The Bullet

The Bullet

They’re all blank –
The slate
The page
The stare
The mind
……………………………the bullet
And yet…
When filled with hues
That make them whole –
They all can
Destroy another

Perhaps…
They’re better off
Left in their emptiness –
In silent desperation
For the innocence
Of the child…

Hate on the slate
Rage on the page
Despair in the stare
Misaligned in the mind
All of the above
……………………………in the bullet

And yet…
Children
No longer
Linger in the silence –
No longer
Sit idly by
While those
Who cannot speak
To truth
Hide inside
The voter’s booth
Where money is the root
Of soul-less pleas

Perhaps…
It is the politicians
That are better off
Left in the emptiness
Of their own being…
In the silence –
In desperation
For the innocence
Of the child

Seldom are they ever
Left blank –
The slate
The page
The stare
The mind
……………………………the bullet

And yet…
It is left to those of us
Who dare
To change the hues
That make them whole –
Who dare to erase
The slate of hate –
To turn the page of rage
To peace –
Change despair of the stare
To hope
And realign the mind
With truth
For the most beautiful
Of all reasons…
For the innocence…
……………………………Of the child

Michael33

Beyond the Ledge

Beyond the Ledge

I did not come in innocence
For I have felt the roaring fire
So close
Against my face
Each breath that I would breathe
Could smell the singe

Yet…
Never have I walked into the river
To cool the burning embers
Neath my skin
Nor wandered into reason
To repair my tattered soul
For no longer could I bide
Within the fringe

Always I must lean
Beyond the ledge
For that is where my journey
Finds the flame
Though the smell of burning flesh
No longer lingers in my breath
I alone must dwell
Within the blame

I did not come in innocence
For I have felt the blowing rain
So hard
Against my face
My eyes no longer visioned
Morrow’s light

Yet…
Never did I blink to wash the tears
The tears that blurred my vision
Through the night
Never did I let the rain
Calm embers neath my skin
Nor cool the flames
To change
The wrong to right

Always I must step
Beyond the edge
For that is where my essence
Finds the fire
Though the scent of burning flesh
No longer bides within my breath
I alone must always
Walk the wire

I did not come in innocence…….
For I have felt the heat
— Of the roaring fire

Michael33

Lost Amongst the Primrose

photo credit: Fotos by Dee via photopin cc

I apologize for not posting anything last evening.  My physical well being and my ‘sometimes’ poetic mind were most definitely out of synchronization.  Hope you enjoy tonight’s post…

“Lost Amongst the Primrose”
 
I was beckoned to the garden
Into shadows of the moonlight
By someone draped in amber shades of lust
 
I wandered in the moonlit night
Amongst the flowers, black and white
Till dawn replaced the shadows with mistrust
 
Twas there I found that innocence
Drifting softly in the shadows
Lingers only briefly in the dawn
 
Thence, only in reflections
Can it echo through the canyons
And allow the faded sketches be redrawn
 
I gazed into the dew drops
Where mirrors of the rainbow
Were changing hues of colors lost in time
 
What was lost amongst the primrose
Secrets meant forever
Always seem to surface in the rhyme

Copyright © 2014 Steven Michael Sanders

There is much more to this poem than words of poetry.
If you have an analytical mind, you might find it interesting to spend some time with the meaning behind each verse.  One point of interest might be that the latin meaning of primrose is “First rose”… which could be interpreted as ‘innocence’… There’s many more little points to be made within the text… Have fun with it… Use your imagination.  I’d love to hear your comments.
Or… you can just click the ‘like’ button and have a wonderful evening…

Either way, thanks for visiting, and taking the time to read my poetry.  You are very much appreciated…

Be careful if you’re beckoned to the garden in the moonlight…
You never know what might happen amongst the primrose!

Michael33