steps to a mocking truth

my shoes have grown
as my heart and eyes have seen
they walked with me,
since those first inaccurate stumbles
seeing surface and texture
slipped on,
tied,
buckled
leather formed about the feet,
or thrown in disgust
at a politicians head,
they walk with us
mutely seeing and interacting
as the  animal they once where
to a human misery,
without shoes connecting to earth
and nature of earthen creation,
ski hardening
to dust
stone
and blacktop,
miles witnessed
to a freedom attained
toes as extremity population
encounter first and enjoy
what was once an overall entrapment
thorns may spike
stones may pierce
batons beat
and electrodes burn,
washed and anointed
our shoes are needed
protect
shelter
enable
and keep away the awful pains,
shoes see more
than we think

poetry , poem

dversepoets.com

 

sewing in blood

if rambo sewed curtains
instead of his arm
what strength would he
place in the cotton,
resilience to tugs and pressure
from a climbing cat
or a child wishing
to see snow from a
winters window,
it need not be war
it need not be pain,
sometimes curtains close
out the things we wish
not to see,
but does rambo need
to sew them every time

poetry , poem

Rambo

angels at the pagan threshold

landscape seen by standing eye

on wind stripped rooftops edge,

answers pilgrims of nausea

fall as if from the depths of the sky,

horizon alone with forest

sun faced green silk and gold,

tracks of those who journey in faith

into the still of wooded glade,

within voices imagined

brambles pulled by enraged fingers

mess and tangle hide

that place used as a remote hope,

he should be there

pale faced

emotions a fountains stream

pleasure would not be found

with slackened vines,

this horizon embraced him

pulled into its complex afternoon

where time lie down

petal seconds fall,

chaos is not for choosing

sleep will not be heeded

as these files of thought

are put away,

staunched by class,

those in power jailers to tomorrow,

gas would fill indecent blue

and many more would fall,

for the sake

of secrets of kings

prompt , poetry, poem

wordle

Sunday Whirl, poems