Is it worth it?
The pain you caused?
The hurt you brought?
The damage you wrought?
The heart you broke
The soul you destroyed
The love you lost
When you said
“Sorry… Goodbye”
You, Are the reason I wake in the morning
You, are the sweet dreams that fill my nights
You, are the smile forever on my lips
You, are the stars within my eyes
You, are my heart, my breath, my soul
You, are my life
You, are my love
You, are with me
Airplanes fly over
Soldiers march along the street
The diceocho
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The ground is shaking
But I don’t feel anything
Engrossed in my work
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I light a candle
An offering for loved ones
To show that I care
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They are there
Upon me when I first see you
Green with just the faintest hint of brown
Sparkling in the lights of the city,
Like the finest diamonds
I am drawn to them,
As if they’re all there is I want to know
I get close, they get wider
I see myself looking back
Deep from within your eyes
You saved the letters I wrote
The rough prose and youthful hand an unfamiliar receptacle for familiar feelings
I found them in your dresser drawer
The one place truly yours in a life totally shared
I had never opened it
Not in all the years since we moved in together
Not through the highs and the lows of decades together
Not even those final hard years of sickness
I thought about keeping them
A memory of how I felt
The love that makes what I have to do the hardest thing I ever did
But I don’t need to
My love for you is the only thing still bright as the rest of me fades
I instead have decided to place them with you
In the casket
As you take your final rest
For those letters
Like my heart
Are for now and forever
For you
My wife is in bed
Sick with a blocked nose and cough
Treatment, tea and hugs
#
Dangerous spiders
May be found sneaking in our flat
They sure love bathrooms
#
Grandmother’s Birthday
She has reached one hundred years
And still going strong
Sticks and stones may break my bones
But words they too may hurt me
Sticks’ loud crack can smart you ears
But words leaves silence deeply
Stones bring bruises blue and black
Words bring but a tear
But bruises soon fade from the fore
While words keep deepest fear
Sticks and stones will ache my bones
When I bathe they drift away
But words can cut into my heart
And down in there they’ll stay
Sticks and stones can kill outright
As the body curls to break
Yet words may work a slower pace
And move your soul to take
Neither sticks nor stones can truly hurt
The strength that lies inside
But words can niggle at its core
Find it where it may hide
Sticks and stones may break my bones
But words do greater still
The first may break my body
The next my soul will kill
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Written for Grammar Ghoul Press’ mutant 750 challenge # 36.
Sway me with verse
With rhymes and words
With raw passion
With the strength of emotion
Use the almighty pen
Sealing thoughts in jet-black ink
Safe from memory’s vagrancies
Free to roam around the world
Use voice
Bring the words to life
Syllables in machine gun rapidity
Explosions of verbiage
Bring me poetry
Wondrous, magnificent poetry
Every which way you can
Show me what words can do
In out, in out
Fill lungs with the good
Release the bad
Send it out into the aether
To the vastness of the world outside
Where it can disperse
Fade into nothingness
So the soul
Malleable beyond words
Infinitely Changeable
Adaptable
Can once again soar
Be everything it can be
Written for Grammar Ghoul Challenge number 27
He could’ve had a father
The guy was a descent sort
Would have been kind
But sometimes romance does not kick off
And his old man had walked out the door
Long before he first kicked in the womb
He could’ve been a rocket scientist
He was bright, all the teachers could see it
His mind burned bright behind the eyes
But school was for idiots
You can make a fortune sitting on a street
With a swig of the bottle to take away the cold
He could’ve been a daddy
It would have turned his life around
To see a part of himself looking back at him
But the bottle’s siren song
Was stronger than the pull of the heart
And love’s promise died on the vine
He could’ve lived
He could have thrived
He could have made his mark in the world
But the poison had rotted his mind
Making him numb to cold’s harsh dagger
In a doorway the world would not see
joe2poetry 