Tuesday, April 30, 2013

The Last of April's Poems

In my early years of college, when we started reading poetry from the classic poets, I was drawn to Walt Whitman. The weird thing is I can’t remember why. I can’t even remember what poem fascinated me about him. But since I’ve often thought about why I like Walt Whitman, I thought I’d end April, National Poetry Writing Month, with a Whitman poem. I picked this poem because I love the title and how he speaks of a country’s flag.

BATHED in war's perfume--delicate flag!
(Should the days needing armies, needing fleets, come again,)
O to hear you call the sailors and the soldiers! flag like a
beautiful woman!
O to hear the tramp, tramp, of a million answering men! O the ships
they arm with joy!
O to see you leap and beckon from the tall masts of ships!
O to see you peering down on the sailors on the decks!
Flag like the eyes of women.

Patriotism and Poetry,

Thursday, April 25, 2013

I Used to Dance

I wrote this today and decided to make a slideshow out of it with me reading the poem. It’s a free verse poem called, I Used to Dance. It's something different. I hope you like it.

I also want to share an audio piece with you. The rhythm is so upbeat that it makes me want to dance, AND, most importantly, it’s my grandmother singing. 

Wednesday, April 24, 2013

Ode to a Gift

This is another poem from my poetry eBook, Sipping a Mix of Verse. Ode – a poem praising a person, place or thing—my one and only Ode.

Ode to a Gift


My lungs grow still, air slowly vacuumed up,
a distilled lightness caused by droopy eyes.
The power to rest my heart is found in a cup
or a sharpened edge, closer to my demise;
It’s not for want to carry this to the end,
sorrow leading towards the rocky cliff
where the docile surrender to a cold call.
Monotone voice crackles, deafens words that blend,
taste the bitterness which makes my body stiff.
Raise my head to heaven, begging before I crawl.


The peril of this news drips and burns like acid
words searing skin, throws me against the wall.
A silent movie of memories plays in a placid
room made to steal unhappiness and enthrall;
Draws me up to ease this unrequested burden
where death is planning an early impromptu trip,
consumed by thoughts of leaving before arrival.
My stagger leads me to a full bottle of bourbon
to forget about reality and let fantasy slip
in knowing this is the last chance for survival.


Watch children run through meadows of color.
Intimate whispers exchanged from lover’s lips.
Senses will end from the expression of the caller
pull me away from life, ready to write my scripts;
Then laughter seeps through window panes and doors,
requires reaction to nature’s unwritten music.
Turn my head, faltering from original sins,
similar to what men do when fighting wars.
Although brought back by a warm anesthetic,
and therefore the cure for sorrow begins.


Forget what might come of my withered corpse
bones chipped by disease with curdled blood.
The fa├žade will give way as the mind warps
let this sink in, turn a cheek I know I should;
A perilous thought prevents a skilled cure
to help my pitied soul rise above such amiss.
Fortified by love, amend for future dreams.
Naked I stand before a mirror, once so pure
closed eyes and smile while I reminisce,
your presence repeats splendid themes. 


Supported words blanket my swollen heart
For I vowed to ignore the dark whispers.
Perchance, quality exists for a fresh start
stand high, God’s breath - the zephyrs;
Smell renewed love from spring time dew,
Laugh at the awkwardness of dodging rain.
But remember recent events to show scars,
however today I shall read vows to renew.
Let the pain swirl around then down the drain
Lay under a sycamore tree, last wish on the stars.


A steady drip echoes my darkened belief
while eyes close on an old blossomed seed.
Body drifts into the abyss, a disowned leaf
heart ripped from my chest like dead weeds;
Decayed part replaced by unfortunate donor
accept rejection is part of this thoughtful game.
Drugs will be one of my closest friends
except I can’t thank its previous owner,
who wore this heart inside his or her frame,
so duty to explore the rest, lies in my lens.


Wake fresh with another’s beating past
ended quickly with enormous tragedy.
Now responsible for both to surpassed
the others with what was given as a remedy;
Question own mortality opens vault
of truth and lies of how I’ve led,
yet stranger calls from six feet under
says ignore where those declare fault.
Forget what had been done and said,
hanging on will cause murderous wonder.


Beauty comes from an unexpected gift
cherish by forgetting history of errors,
and wash away all feelings of guilt.
Listen to precious advice from the bearer;
For once I’m left without a way to describe
overwhelming emotions unable to hide.
Away! This seeker left behind a prize
without interference by threat or bribe,
fills our heart with nothing but pride.
Thanks for giving; now it’s time for good-byes.

Gifts and Life,