View RSS Feed

All Blog Entries

  1. The Messenger

    by , 11-02-2006 at 05:41 PM (Ramblings from the Blue Ridge Mountains of Virginia)
    The Messenger

    And so at last I come to thee,
    Like thousands gone before
    To pluck my beak at my ebon breast
    And drop a black feather at thy door...

    Behold the dusky down as it descends,
    Regard its gyrations and pathway well—
    For upon length of descent thy length of days depends—
    It is a summons to Heaven or to Hell!

    Other eyes than mine watch the feather fall,
    The orbs of He of whom I am but the messenger. ...
    Categories
  2. There are Days

    by , 11-02-2006 at 05:41 PM (Imported Poems)
    and i am afraid
    i'm very afraid
    of taking a deep breath

    and drawing
    a knife
    wrenching
    it
    into my
    heart

    and finding - too late -
    only empty space

    small flecks
    of what may have
    been blood

    tiny shards
    of what could have
    been life

    there are
    days, Dorothy,

    when i
    am jealous
    of the Tin Man.
    Categories
  3. Man Who Wasn't There

    by , 11-02-2006 at 05:41 PM (Ramblings from the Blue Ridge Mountains of Virginia)
    That Little Man Who Wasn’t There

    Let me tell you what it is like
    To exist on the fringe,
    To be a Shadow of The Man
    That you might have been.
    I used to walk into a room
    And people noticed that I was there:
    But now I always feel like
    That Little Man Who Wasn’t There.

    I can feel the eyes as they scan me,
    When I pass down the street;
    But the smiles freeze on the faces,
    And our eyes just never meet. ...
    Categories
  4. The Lovers

    by , 11-02-2006 at 05:41 PM (Ramblings from the Blue Ridge Mountains of Virginia)
    THE LOVERS

    Darkness is a lady that dances with Light,
    A gentleman, he, proud and noble.
    The shapes they create with their intertwining bodies
    Cause the mind to grow giddy with disbelief.
    And the eyes ask themselves if they really saw
    The things the mind says simply cannot exist.

    No finer dancers in the Universe exist,
    Weaving a pattern unmatched, Miss Darkness and Mr. Light.
    The Earth is their stage, their dance familiar ...
    Categories
  5. She..

    She Wept, She cried…

    She felt impure…

    A wound inflicted…

    It had no cure…

    She knew not what to,

    Say or do…

    She could not start

    Her life anew…

    She said all through

    Her helpless cries

    No hope left…

    In her tearless eyes…

    She felt as if she’d,

    Lost the race…

    Fear and sadness,
    ...
    Categories