We’ve heard the calm before the storm;
peace that surpasses understanding;
in good conscience, I must forewarn;
even in peace, life’s demanding.
Though storms in life, come and go;
they never stay gone for long.
Through them all, we seem to grow;
and that’s why all storms
I really can’t say, how it all came about;
somehow, I became a sculptor of words;
voices are troublesome, when they shout;
and poetry is the sculpture of nerds.
They always say if the shoe fits; wear it;
so I slipped those shoes on my feet;
they squeeze my
I walked through a store, I used to shop;
I could feel her at my side;
a memory existed; like a photo op;
how could such memory reside?
Little bleeps and blurbs, of memories past;
my present awareness could not escape;
news clips of a lifetime, seemed to just last;
I write from my feelings, deep within;
intending your sorrows to share;
sometimes, I don’t know where to begin;
wanting to show others, I care.
Strangly enough, such feelings return;
emotions travel in a circular fashion;
from such energies, I’m able to learn;
the Love of God’s
Sticks and stones may break your bones;
but words can never harm you.
Some of these words must find new homes;
over fears, these words can alarm you.
Words are thoughts in camaflauge;
concepts and ideas, wearing a mask
often they seem like a mirage;
until they’ve completed their
A beautiful red bird entered my world;
a flower of a rose wearing wings;
into the world this Cardinal was hurled;
strutting with the trappings of kings.
Why he had come; no one knows;
he had simply come from nowhere;
and Perfection in red took his pose;
and all were
Thought conceives all reality;
creating all living Words;
converting them to physicality;
creating a world full of birds.
In heaven they’re called angels;
beautiful winged creatures;
some of them were quite baneful;
they all had different features.
The evil ones were called devils;
always up to no good;
they
It wore the stains of dust and dirt;
with age, adding to its wear;
yet, my wardrode, I couldn’t desert;
tho, in much need of repair.
When young, my clothes were fine;
neat, pressed, and in style;
with my energy inside; aligned;
those clothes; gone for a while.
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