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Senryu Quartet...

Flowers bloom and fade
in her heart was a desert
the rain did not come

He was well aware
a wind blew into his life
she was ever there

His hand brought her hope
she drank from his love blossom
her mind opened up

They fled the desert
drinking in the cool water
he brought food for thought

Swords of Glass

People are like swords of glass:
beautiful, fragile and delicate
but also fierce and sharp
We must use care with them
and protect them from harm or break.
The soil of battle and wear of miles
may stain them and etch them opaque.
They may shatter when put to the gamut.
If by chance this does occur
and left with gathered pieces are you.
Be quick to hearth and oven with them
for glass once tempered is forged anew.

MY FATHER ( RANDOM CHALLENGE #16

My lovely father,
you were something
of a benevolent despot.
When the days were young
every Tom, Dick and Harry
felt your goodness.
Your benignity born of
selfless devotions will
ever stay in the hearts
of the people that felt it.
You truly afforded
the decencies of life.
You lived an unpretentious
life with simplicity and modesty.
The sky you are the colors
of my life's rainbow.
Oh every time I look to the sky
I have got you in my mind.
You disciplined us and with

(My Father) On a Morning in Early June, 1944

When your number’s up, it’s up
was the motto my father uttered
to steel himself at his battle station,
in the radio shack of an LST
as it crossed the English Channel
on a blustery day in June.

Those same words must have been
on the tongue of each young man,
crammed aboard the Higgins boats
his ship launched toward Omaha Beach–
most of whom never even heard
their number as it was called.

THE LOST SWORD

I’ve found a sword in a battlefield
Where the mighty called the fallen land
It created the field with its bent
After it stooped so low to conquer the bent
In its hide was pushed to wall
And its voice was heard in the city’s wall
To quench the land thirst for knowledge
By the sword I pledged to its old and worn badge
When it birthed the soil
With its atypical movement fashion toil
I swayed when I held its grip
Like whirlwind on a trip
To strip the old and new cankerworms
Which had eaten up the corms.

Yours, from a distance

I'm not yours.
I've never been yours
and I probably will never be yours.

But I want you,
and I've wanted you,
and I will continue to want you.

When the sun shines
I see your smile.
When that song plays
I hear your voice.
You feel so close,
yet untouchable.

Your Choice

your choice
of growing with loneliness
as a tree abounds in a deserted land
with winds blowing up only sand
then there in the midst of an oasis
broadens a mirage
as it blanks the mind

you chose loneliness
to that hopeful mirage...
which designs mankind

perhaps 'twas no mirage
but an apparition of mind
in the deepest
darkest and solitary refines
which make you
melancholy
depressive design

unmarked territory

My body is an island.
Fossils, my scars,
Leave behind exoskeletons
Of abuse that was left
Engraved in the most beautiful
Parts of me.
I have craters from
Asteroids that promised
To destroy the pain but
Left me with an aftertaste far
Worse.
I seem to draws tourists
That all just take a picture
And leave
Take a suvenere
And leave
Take advantage
And leave
Take off and leave.
My eyes ,volcanoes ,
Once dormant but now
Erupting constantly, leaving

Love - Common

Eyes, dark violet,
flower.

I am here my dear.

Nothing matters anymore,
each of us will go its own way.

But, know. My words,
Your dances, our tears,

Will go someday to the meter

Embrace

Long skeletal fingers grip tight around my throat
squeezing what life force I have left into a pulp of skin & blood

Forcing sound I release one last final breath into this lost paradise
where the only truth is death itself cloaked in black & grey

Anger & pressure exit from my heavy mood
as I enter the moment of true acceptance & no return, I smile at…

…death’s embrace
I fall in disgrace
Savagely taken
Into a new evil place

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