Lofty adventures often stumble o’er
The darker side of heroes’ violent acts
They use the blood and gore so’s not to bore
The list’ners, but this is a silent tax
Tag: poems
1/25/2021
Fresh snow
Lying on the ground
Eddying around
Sitting soft
Waiting to be stepped in
Firelight
Firelight shines bright
On the face of my beloved
Outlining her softest features
Giving breath to her breath
Light to her light
As she lies there
There, her expression still
Quiet as her mind grows quiet
Worries slip away
And firelight shines upon her
Worries now are gone, her
Hair falls easily, wildly
Her breath, soft
Like the fire’s
They breathe together
Both soft as ever
One crackles, both burn
With light
So bright
Spinning circles
Spinning circles
In my mind
Often I find
I’m jumping over hurdles
And my mind hurtles
Spinning circles
Enough
Brave enough
Wise enough
Strong enough
That we can be enough
To deserve
All we have
That we can be enough
To seize
The light
That we do enough
And choose
What’s right
Inspired by the words of Amanda Gorman in her poem “The Hill We Climb”.
Silent orchestras
Sweet sounds of music spinning in my mind
Play symphonies no matter what the hour
In silent orchestras daily I find
A tranquil, simple, everlasting pow’r
Unearned
And when did kings and despots
Earn their unearthly pow’rs?
How did they claim the priv’lege
To rule o’er others’ lives?
Gobbledygook
I opened the page
And read of a mage
Whose powers were endlessly strong
He killed many beasts
Went to royal feasts
And s’pposedly knew right from wrong
But oft was I struck
By how his good luck
E’er boded ill for all but he
He’d “rescue” a town
Yet hundreds would drown
The carnage there for all to see
“A hero he was!
“Our hero because
“The man killed the treacherous king!”
So many would cry.
(Before they did die)
I know not why for him they’d sing
Yet still he’s cheered on
This storiéd con
I read about once in a book
Some say it’s all fun
To read what he’s done
But I say it’s gobbledygook.
Why am I me?
Why am I me?
Could I not be
A hero, praised from West to East?
Why am I me?
When I could be
Much farther than now from the least?
Why am I me?
Why can’t I see
How I could go and seize the day?
Why am I me?
Am I not free
To walk, to run, to fly away?
Knowing

Since long before I met you, I have loved you;
Since first we locked our eyes, so have I known you;
No more can I recall not knowing of you
Than how it felt without you, me alone.