The phoenix rising,
back from the dead.
Lazarus called,
he wants his life back.
Lost in the depths
of a broken spirit,
left in the lurch
with much more to say.
You stand in silence,
wishing for the return
of your sanity, and
your security, and
everything else that
leaves you feeling empty;
dead from the floor up.
The randomness of words
tossed together with ease
and flair, brings your voice
from deep within you and
gives cause to express
every heartfelt pang,
poem and passion,
delivering your work
to an appreciative audience,
offering peace and
confidence to your lifeless
rhyme. Infusing your heart
and soul with the breath
of a million soft sighs,
for the poet has regained
his promise and drive.
Once again alive.
Resurrected.
Our passions define us. The things that move our souls and puts us in sync with the universe lives within. Music can be the ultimate expression of my heart. But my lyrics give my songs a voice; this melodic poetry of my life. I am driven by the rhymes and rhythms that are the underlying score of my existence. This site will highlight my original poetry and short fiction, as well as my music; the stirrings of my soul that have been long hidden. My observations through the eyes of a poet's heart.
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
RETURN TO SENDER
Returned unopened.
The letter,
an explanation,
an apology,
an "it's been so long
and I've been thinking..."
It says address unknown.
Insufficient postage.
No number found.
The reasons become
more wordy than your note.
All you wanted to say
was thank you for
everything, I'm sorry for
everything. You want to do
everything you can to
heal the wounds. But,
even though time can heal,
too much time can render
one obsolete. Unavailable.
Resting in Peace.
Returned unopened.
The letter,
an explanation,
an apology,
an "it's been so long
and I've been thinking..."
It says address unknown.
Insufficient postage.
No number found.
The reasons become
more wordy than your note.
All you wanted to say
was thank you for
everything, I'm sorry for
everything. You want to do
everything you can to
heal the wounds. But,
even though time can heal,
too much time can render
one obsolete. Unavailable.
Resting in Peace.
Returned unopened.
Thursday, August 6, 2009
ISOLATED
Standing in
defiance to
the defiant.
Not counting
myself among
their numbers,
An island of one
surrounded by
a sea of doubt.
defiance to
the defiant.
Not counting
myself among
their numbers,
An island of one
surrounded by
a sea of doubt.
Categories:
Micro Poetry,
Walt's Heartflashes - Poetry
THE ABYSS
Mouth contorted
into a cosmic yawn,
hungry for life;
your life.
Wishing to swallow
you whole, but
you only allow it
a nibble. A taste.
Leaving it wanting
more.
into a cosmic yawn,
hungry for life;
your life.
Wishing to swallow
you whole, but
you only allow it
a nibble. A taste.
Leaving it wanting
more.
Categories:
Micro Poetry,
Walt's Heartflashes - Poetry
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