April Morning

clouds dance in the sky
revealing patches of blue
as the sun returns
the dark winter of my soul
welcomes the light of new hope

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TGIF – Tanka God It’s Friday

slowly the hour creeps
as I wait to join the march
daily exodus
forgetting things accomplished
remembering love at home

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my smile exploded

I ended up with two different poems today. Both seemed to express the same thought, but I wasn’t sure which one to post. I decided to include both.

*****************************
a smile
then simple words
that changed my world
an exploding smile
laughing
*****************************

My Dad's Exploding Smile

My Dad’s Exploding Smile

I wasn’t thinking
when I entered the room
and I didn’t know why I came
but somehow you knew
and your greeting made me smile
then you told me a story
with twists and turns
and ended it with perfect timing
and bursting out
from somewhere inside
I felt my smile exploding
and I laughed
and I laughed
*****************************

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The rose

Trying my hand at meeting NaPoWriMo Daily Prompt challenge for Day 10: an “Un-Love” Poem . . .

a rose in bloom
I softly caress you
consumed by your perfume
I watch
your beauty unfolding
slowly revealing yourself to me
I surrender
to the desire
to hold you
to take you as my own

then

I dare to reach out
and feel the pain
the thorns
that rip and tear my flesh
the hurt consumes me
and I know
who you really are
and I watch
as your beauty slowly withers
your heartless soul revealed

bitch!

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Is he sharp?

he’s sharp
sharp as a razor
whose blade no longer cleanly slices
but gouges skin
and scrapes across blemish
leaving seeping wounds of pain
that lingers
and small pools of blood
that quickly spread
across the semi-stubbled face it leaves behind

he’s sharp
sharp as a tack
whose point can no longer punch its way
into unforgiving surface
and violently convulses
under pressure
piercing fingertip
and skin
causing pain
so deep
cursing can’t relieve what is felt to the bone

yes
he’s sharp

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her story – chapter 1: dark night

I wanted to capture raw emotions that I could feel. The first stanza brought out some powerful emotions in me, but I’m not sure if it does the same for others. Initially, the story wasn’t supposed to matter, but now I’m left wanting to know more about this person’s story. 

she knew that she couldn’t tell him
the pain of knowing ripped at her core
some nights she wondered if he already knew
on those nights the music would return
and she would die
again

the details never mattered
the memory alone was enough to tear her soul
and still he loved her more than she deserved
his sleeping embrace brought no comfort
and she would cry
alone

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Midday Funk

I was trying to write while I had a few moments after lunch. I had to skip my walk today and had little energy. So,…the result.

midday funk
after lunch
chicken slices
hit the spot
and now
I sit
on my butt
staring
at the screen
searching
for what?
nothing matters
after lunch
midday funk

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The Volksmarch (die Volkswanderung)

friends wander
on trails
through forest and field
in vineyards and villages
following the signs
leading uphill
over mountains
overlooking the beauty
they stop
to refresh
then return
to the trail
to walk
and talk
and wander

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The Song

This is a reflection of my friendships at work. I wrote this at my new desk on a Friday and found it in my notes. I recently moved from an office of ten people, where I’ve worked for 4 years, to an office of two. I was homesick. As a team lead, with a military leadership background, I have struggled with building friendships in the workplace. Leadership is a lonely place for me.

“When will I be loved?” asks the man in song,
“And when will I no longer feel that being loved is wrong?”
“I am not sad on most days,” the song begins again.
“I know that I am loveable, and some do call me friend.”
“How can I be loved?” sings the man once more,
“When will I allow those friends to see what hides behind closed doors?
“When will I allow those friends to see the treasures that I store?”
“When will I be loved?” asks the man in song,
“And when will I no longer feel that being loved is wrong?”

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Words…

The words escape me, but
I know I felt it sometime today
When I feel it again
I’ll be ready
With words

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