Prose Poems & Poetry

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Comment by starrwolf on March 17, 2009 at 9:06am

this poem is Untitled so bear with me on it. i been writing poetry more than I ever written any type of story lol.

Untitled:

I stand above and outside along the parapets of my castle.
Looking below, I see Life scurrying, hurrying itself against the empty passage of time.
I know my love is true when my child sings her song dancing amongst the fairies of this world, hearing the wind beckon to her like a wild dream.
Her grace cultured and pure, no scruples in her beating heart.
I feel my tears slide, fall like the gentle mist of rain.
I hear the pain in my son's voice as he cries to be heard among the masses, huddled for warmth against the evil cold of night.
I lose myself in their journeys watching my princess and prince become the voice of strength in a word lost to endless war.

Comment by Gerald Drueppel on November 6, 2008 at 10:00am

The Unveiling by Gerald Drueppel

I suddenly catch the eyes of indifference
and direct their gaze towards a glowing
pillar of determination
Behold , I say Behold ! How the grains of truth
coalesce into an unshakable foundation
Behold! The spark of hope
Shining with unyielding brilliance
Does it not stir the soul?
Does it not give pause for reflection?
Let the light find your center
Let peace purge disaster
How is it the blind find what they're after?
They feel
They simply feel

Comment by Charlie Bear on September 25, 2008 at 7:10pm

My Mother
She’s life’s beginning; the bonds of never ending love and care flow from her.
Her warmth comforts and sooths fears of things that go bump in the night.
Her love and tears shape and make her apart from all others in your life.
She’s soft and tender yet strong in times of need.
An unending, timeless wonder: My mother.

Comment by Moshee Yisrael on August 28, 2008 at 6:09pm

did the door tell you that ?

the door didn't care or change much...
actually, it was a concrete lamp post...
the finger(s) bruised and bled
the door (lamppost) didn't change much
the finger scarred...
the thrown away couch was delivered and used
by a friend who died of chemotherapy at twenty one
some thirty years ago...

~Moshee

Comment by Brenda V Northeast on August 28, 2008 at 5:18pm

Another late addition to the Cherry tree as I have been away and have just returned. It did inspire me here is one of my efforts so far.

My Love is like a Cherry tree

My heart blossoms
like a cherry tree,
pink with anticipation;
spring's awakening kiss

Glowing with summers
harvest fare
dangling red earrings
hang from a slender neck;
your gift of love

Sweet Cherry
like no other
plump and red
the nectar of your
fervent love bestowed

Sweet Cherry tree
your kiss
has left me blushing

Brenda V Northeast © 20/08/08

Comment by Ken on August 25, 2008 at 4:08pm

"The Cherry Tree"

"We spent so long building a paradise
What we thought was a strong foudation
Began to crack in half
And I was left to pick of the pieces
Of this masquerade you call yester' love
And so begun the end of us....

We spent so long under the shelter
Of the Cherry Tree
But here I am alone
Left to bleed, oh....left to breathe

We spent so long whispering forever
What we thought was the chosen road
Disappeared on the map
And I was left to hitchhike by myself
Without a clue of what happened to you
I suppose in the end you had me fooled

But I never thought in my life
That Robert Frost would be right
Because I believed in love and you and me
And that Eden is a paradise that few get to see
But just like that I was proven wrong
When you left and ran off
To some other place in time
Leaving our love behind
With the crippled branches and wilted leaves
Of the Cherry Tree

There's nothing gold about love, oh no
There's nothing gold about love, oh no
There's nothing gold about us.....

I hope you enjoyed that or that touched you somehow...
~K....

Comment by Moshee Yisrael on August 22, 2008 at 6:23pm

DESERT

Leaves do not exist there
nor grass nor much bush. Mostly
it is rock and sand, cactus and
brush. Naked mountains range bravely
across your vision while white heat
sears and the long winds parch,
pit and wear, carving up the
ruggedest of mountains.

Stones grow in the desert. You
can catch them if you look.
They begin with a growl and
quiver shimmering in the light
that surrounds them.

You must listen close and hard.
The desert is mischievous in its
ways. To catch any glimpse takes
patience, dedication and serious
attention.

It can be a teacher or
a satisfactory lover as it never
lies. It lives in truth and the
truth of some things lies in the
desert.

Shimmering images speak its
hidden reality and in a split lick
a rock grows. In one twisted instant
the truth shimmers in the image.
Catch it if you can.

~Moshee

Comment by Moshee Yisrael on August 22, 2008 at 6:13pm

COYOTE

The wind dropped anchor and stopped
that sudden. Though well past midnight the
temperature rose and flushed a tiny shiver
at the base of my spine to climb its length
then shudder and die across my
shoulders.

This is what it is like under the bell
jar I thought. Enveloping. Protective. A
half risen moon, having nothing else to do
with its light, draped the desert with jagged
shadows and pale sheets.

My eyes adjusted as a roar rose in my
ears, then quick as the wind it stopped then
rose and broke again. Again it began to rise.
A sharp snap close behind me. I whirled,
froze. The roaring ceased. Everything
stilled. In the shadowed night we waited
each other's next move.

~Moshee

Comment by Angel1 on August 21, 2008 at 12:45am

After Twenty-Six Years

You still have bubble gum kisses.
Hershey's with almonds still melt pleasingly in your mouth.
Although your toys are more expensive; they take gas instead of batteries,
Your eyes still sparkle with anticipation of a new one.
You still pout if something goes wrong and ruins your plans.
You still make up silly songs and always know
Just what to say that will make me laugh.
You’ve quieted and you've mellowed some over the years,
You still pout when you don't get your way.
Even though I've long since lost my girlish figure,
You still make me feel beautiful with your compliments.
Best of all, after all these years,
I still see in your belief in me when I look into your eyes.
Please don't ever grow up.

Comment by Brett Gillmore on August 20, 2008 at 1:41pm

Hi everyone;
You have all posted excellent poetries!
I am excited to see the development of the 'Cherry Tree' writing circle. Welcome aboard Juliette. And the Cherry Tree Circle sounds like an interesting idea, with some terrific authors; keep those writing juices flowing!
---Brett

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