[Poetry Search] [Contact Us] [FREE Site] [Home] [Poets] [Chat] [Login]


Requiem for Yesterday

Love is Now

A Multitude of One

Forbidden

Visions Released

Intense Imagery (A Haiku)

For our child

Dance Upon Shadows

A Rose

Night bus home

A Comfort Sent to You

Black Lung

Restless

January 14th 1995

January 14th 1995

January 14th 1995

January 14th 1995

January 14th 1995

January 14th 1995

January 14th 1995

January 14th 1995

January 14th 1995

January 14th 1995

January 14th 1995

January 14th 1995

January 14th 1995

January 14th 1995

January 14th 1995

January 14th 1995

January 14th 1995

January 14th 1995

January 14th 1995

January 14th 1995

January 14th 1995

January 14th 1995

January 14th 1995

January 14th 1995

January 14th 1995

January 14th 1995

January 14th 1995

January 14th 1995

Foolish hearts

Heart to Heart

Returning Hero

Old and New

Words

Shades

Clutch

Going back

The Warrior

Facing reality

In the wind

Loyal soldier

Please Live

Lifespan

Sitting

Living machine

Revolution in Bloom

Morning Candle

Welcome Jack

Shadows of December

Unholy Love

Frozen Retreat

Sacred Crone

A Silent Knowing

I Am Not Spoiled Stinky Curdled Milk

Yes, Leonard...It's Math Again Tonight

Winds of time

The Power

What

Hungry for life

Autumn

All men

Man with no name

The face at the bar

Questions

Young girl

To the sea

Mountain Morning Lakeside Fishing

Dragged

I'm Strong Enough to Thank You

Every Step

Whatever!

Carpe Diem

JOEL

A mon fils

TO SARA

GrAttitude

Senses

Crisp and Clear

 

Requiem for Yesterday


A thousand songs are
hidden in the pilgrim
trees:

rivals for the best idea,

while sleep is the patron saint
of death: black yet bustling with
the platinum that we are

and out of the speechless
ground and an erupting sky
there is that familiar home
in between:

a crimson hearth born and reborn
at the end of too many
brittle days.

It's what we thought was safe
that kills us in the end.

The morning is crowded with
plumes of hope-like mist;
immaculate comfort all around.

How I want the newness of you.
I long for every moment I never spent
with you.
I curse the memories I killed
before they were born.

Outside my window
prongs of gray are shredding
my simple white
and stabbing the last
scraps of summer.

All that softness behind yesterday.

And some kind of ancient wings
are carrying you and the promise
of you and those thousand
songs into tomorrow.

You fly through fields of blue
where no one walks and only
dreams dare to go.

Silent pulses are the last
notes before snow
and I repent of all I didn't
hear in the living hours.

The oaks believe me:
their branches are the
slowest beating wings
shaking off the shapes
of youth:
just lattice for the sky
to climb with passion

then forget.

In forgetting we are
true and we are free.
It's best to live in the
promise of our lord sleep,

or so I thought . . .

until there was you.

Patricia Joan Jones





2000 - 2002 Individual Authors of the Poetry. All rights reserved by authors


[ Control Panel ]
Last 100 Poems



Search over
30,000 poems!