Poetry

Marching Down Fifth Street

One hundred twelve in the bright florescent midnight shade I bumble through a weary crowd marching down The Strip beside dancing neon, drunken girls, and gold firelight Mojave desert heat blasts the granite marble hills towards God’s tower man-made One hundred twelve in the bright florescent midnight shade Dreams fleeting as fast silver coins tumble through the flashing casino parkade The jingle-jangle rhythm strikes a mirthful heartbeat of disjointed amusement in the night One hundred…

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Poetry

In the Mirage

In the mirage   Ripples rise before my eyes The standing noon sun heat dries Beads of salt sweat on my forehead   Leaving me heatstroke weak as I tread In the ravine, a winding snake path intensifies Following a sand mouse lengthwise   A rodent’s fate demise I ponder the tan path to the tragic end   In the mirage   A fan palm hides rock art mysteries A spear thrown ripples past a prize Landing short of red rock bloodshed  …

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Poetry

Arms Outstretched in the Dark

I stand in the darkness Outstretched arms seeking a name Of one person who served a cause Proud in service. Each believed in the mighty nation Pressed into liberation of people oppressed Under a threat of ominous winds along the Ho Chi Mihn. A boy my son’s age; he knows a lot, so he thinks. This truth learned before death; Warriors serve their masters even when they change their minds. I’m looking for a relevant pawn in an irrelevant war.…

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Poetry

Sequoia Strawberries

Sequoia Strawberries in the flower bed mulch Lined up like bare root roses Patted safe in the warm soil Watered and blessed; a hopeful refrain. Spring lasts a few days before summer rays Bear down on the garden beds Warming the soil to dry dust A delicate balance to keep them moist. The morning frost reminds spring follows winter Breezes blow as March enters like a lion Or they sneak in like a lamb. Either way,…

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Poetry

Old Age Whispers Rather Than Screams

[aesop_image imgwidth=”800″ img=”https://wordsmithholler.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/03/old-books-436498_1920.jpg” credit=”Pixabay” align=”left” lightbox=”on” captionposition=”left” revealfx=”off”] Old age whispers rather than screams Wrinkles form slowly around the eyes A decree of whereas this and whereas that beams Old age whispers rather than screams Signed by envoys of teams Unripe fellows who first sought the prize Old age whispers rather than screams Wrinkles form slowly around the eyes.   Thanks for reading. Leave me a comment?  Related posts: March 2, 2017 Scribble Alive and…

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My Craft Poetry

Wakan Tanka Waits For Me

[aesop_image imgwidth=”850px” img=”https://wordsmithholler.com/wp-content/uploads/2016/11/route-66-868967_1280.jpg” credit=”Pixabay” align=”left” lightbox=”on” captionposition=”left” revealfx=”off”] Taking the mother road east Seemed like a rewind trip Into the dreams of west bound Men and ladies who left Chi Town for Santa Monica; they Sought the sunny shore to rest. Sunset at our back door down Somewhere in Arizona The passenger trains replaced By cargo trailers never to stop At wide clips of towns built only For fuel or Indian trinkets. In the distance a tee pee…

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Poetry

The Moment a Heartbeat Shifts Trice

[aesop_image imgwidth=”850px” img=”https://wordsmithholler.com/wp-content/uploads/2016/11/3054775751_411ebc3ea7_o.jpg” credit=”Michael S. Sommermeyer” align=”left” lightbox=”on” captionposition=”left” revealfx=”off”] Snow dusting the crest of Mount Tom, Patches of orange and brown balm, Cold air smell of jet metal-cased gneiss, The moment a heartbeat shifts trice. Clouds roll over the summit peak, Dark anger of winter mystique, A chill of slushy snow and ice, The moment a heartbeat shifts trice. Skew angle of silvery rock, Makes way for a white aftershock, Of wind breath’s plunging sacrifice, The moment a…

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