Oh my beloved,
As you go off to war,
I shall wait your return
In one piece

I shall be a single teen aged mother
Till your return.
Hopefully, your return
Is not with mournful trumpet call
Or Colours dipped on cobbles bare
As normally many do

Till then I shall await my Love,
For you,
As a widow
At this young age
It wouldn't do

down
deep, deep down
where everything I was
revealed itself
in lightless squirm
beneath sick chaos turmoil
killing slowly
I crouched the coward's flinch
of terror as my death
struck at me once again

yet at the center of my fear
where soul and struggling flesh are
wrenched apart in final anguish
and life becomes a thing remembered
I found a stillness in the madness
a void foundation solid as slow mountains

war is the most expensive
and
useless hobby,
yet some become famous
and
few are rendered rich.

you are a specimen man,
of a variety belonging
to which?

I got a job
as I was useless,
clearing now all human garbage,

'tis worth my while,
as you all know
I smile the entire mile,
as I dance foxtrot
still mighty slow

Love me like it was only yesterday
Hold me as if i am there today
Please god I don't want to fade away
I only want to stay
Watching the flowers in May
But theres nothing I can say
For I died that day
My spirit can't find a place to lay
One by one my respects they pay
Here I must sit listening to her play
The sad song she sings among the hay
Darling, I have found my way
Your song having been the sun ray
to the darkness that it slay
I'm the wind, watch the trees sway

The ebbing life of leaves--
my long ago heart
like a dream catcher hanging on

I cannot persuade you,
bear no gifts of consolation
or reconciliation,
just lonely poems, meeting
clay feet on mother earth

rosemary and lavender hint at our passing
the scent of us
leaving nothing behind,
the forest grows wild again
like a vacant stare.

Animal

I pace side to side
trapped insde
I’ve lost my speed .
and can no longer run
my reactions are slow to come
but I still hunt and feed
to stay alive

my wounds cut deep
I smell of death
I’m easy to find

my will is strong
I am ruthless
cunning by need
and when I strike
I strike to kill
to save my life
and hold what is mine

I feel this morning
like Jairus' father
when he saw with his eyes
the work of God.

Who is like Him,
I ask?
I've never even heard of another God
Who can do the things He does.

There is no room
for debate,
philosophy
or discussion.
I've seen Him myself.

The Lord took me to the pit
to show me how deep,
and fearful,
and hopeless it is.

But He took me by the hand,
and never released me.
I tell you,
the Lord pulled me up
to safety.

How good are the wings
if we can't feel the wind in our face
how good are the waves
if we can't feel their passion

Inspired by SCRIBBLER! just post 1 stanza at a time to continue the poem. Let's see where this goes.

Groping in the darkness...
Where is it? WHERE IS IT!?!
Looking for the cold release of steel.
Frantic in the search for death.

Pythagoras was a music critic
all things in relationship,
harmony and proportion is beauty
the universe is ordered,
sequenced and nuanced

all planets are aligned with clouds
of free thought,
in its center, we are lovers
making love
ascending
and descending, blending ripe
juices of conquest

I am Frida wild on your fingertips

sometimes the best poems are a
canvas
created from nothing,
sometimes we have
nothing to say, sometimes we break
down, lacking even the scorch of air