Poetry
A Trip Down Nostalgia
Come on and take my hand, Let’s take a trip to memory land, When although life was not so grand, It was never sad or
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Come on and take my hand, Let’s take a trip to memory land, When although life was not so grand, It was never sad or
Our little wooden cottage was set up on the coast of the Summer Vacay, not very far from the sea. A walk with grandpa, enjoying
He stares at me strangely This son of my mine He catches me smiling When there’s no reason or pantomime I’ve wondered down memory lane
It was odd what had come over Jake’s parents. Usually they argued. Sometimes violently. But this morning it seemed they had found some sort
On lofty land The pure savage bird Builds its eyries With plenty of benign Dark from the human race The majestic Eagle, Flaps its mighty
Keeping my daily journal diary short these sweet bird sounds lost- reviews January through March. Joy a dig deep snow on top of my sorrows.
Virescent lines drawing curves of hills I worship every time I recall her figure, Douglas firs aligned Rivet memories from our first kiss How dry
For years, we smelled smoke. The facade was on fire, still measurements went un-taken. Flames carelessly set by those who ignited lives as if humans
When the sun doesn’t shine And dreams are no longer mine When hopes run out And volcanoes no longer shout When all the oceans
Fog horns sound though air soaked in blackness. All evening long listening to hiss of trucks, cars. Shadows brush across walls as trees
The sole meaning of life is to serve humanity. ― Leo Tolstoy We live here. In this city. A Godforsaken one. We live
I have examined the night sky. Seen appear the moon, stars, and meteors. During winter’s freeze, Orion, lost in Crete, stands tall, his belt tight,
In the cooling air of the lingering dusk, the flames from the fire-pit clawed higher The steps to the wood-rack, heavy and slow, retrieving
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