hopes

by

even when…

even when

his prayers
never
saved
a single soul
nor
kept death
from
the doors
of
those he loved
his
devotions
to
the divine
were
his hopes
offered
to
his
beliefs
not
to
any one god
just
a simple contract
with 
himself
so as
to
have a reason
for
awakening

 

 

by

hiding place…

hiding placed

that small hole
in the wall
is where
i
place
my dreams
to
keep them
safe
from
those who
shade
the light
of hope
with
words
of despair
and
their
icy cold
stares
i
would
invite
you in
but
there is
no room
to
spare

by

a proper plot….

 

Photograph by CWMartin

where shall we place the grave
the one that will hold our hopes
shall we place it beside
the one for our dreams
or near the lies
we’ve been told
perhaps we shall place it here
within sight of our
yesterday’s sorrows
so we can visit
the hate
that was planted
and blossomed
with our despair

During the next few days, I will be on holiday…yes again…so I will be posting very few comments on your blogs…however I shall continue to post new poems here and hope that you will enjoy them.  Until then, cheers!

by

the perfect marble…

i can’t believe it
i found it right here
while cycling
a steely
a childhood treasure
beyond wealth
more precious
than cats’ eyes
or even
steel-blue swirls
a steely
polished to perfection
i can see myself
in every turn i make
i’m circling the globe
seeing myself
as the reflections
of other’s lives
in every turn
i make
seeing
that
everyone
has
the same
desires
hopes
loves
disappointments
and fears
as
me
so
why
is
there
war

This poem grew out of watching ‘Special: Human Cost of War – Featuring “I Know I’m Not Alone“‘ with Special Guest Michael Franti on Link TV…if you can please donate to this very important sources of world inofrmation .

by

obituary …

Image from asiancorrespondent.com

don quixote
a retired country gentleman
a soldier for truth and justice
died this year
while fighting windmill-dreams
he was assigned to a company
of dreamers
believing that mankind could be saved
but somewhere along the line
lost his shield of faith
and so was easily forced into his grave
by insurgent corporate prostitutes
governmental goat herders
and one-way thinking priests
long before the battle had ended
his heart gave way
and could not heal
from the debt of hopes unfulfilled
and scorn of his past lovers
who promised undying love
but merely gave lethal support
quickly reaching for his purse
upon his death
finding only a daydreamer’s lint
in his ragged pockets
and so they cursed his name
as if he were the villain
not them
but that is the course of life
and history
good is met with evil
and evil
notifies the next of kin