river of salt

Your Majesty of Tears

The spirit of the mirror      
feeds these years in blood    
It dries quickly,      
marking the place      
where blue skies wither      
and brittle corn sighs dust    
   
 
In search of your rose      
I worry ghosts    
drawn like a bee      
past bludgeon of murdering clock    
wing torn weary      
and beating a fool's tune    
the shock of bitter tongue    
blind to thorns of the heart    
   
 
Your reflection      
was always a dream      
from a place I dared not look    
the cruelest truth      
ruling love imperfect--    
your majesty of tears    
   
 
But once      
away on the mountain      
gnawing earth alone with the crows    
there for a moment      
I was certain    
although we never got to dance      
I almost glimpsed    
the perfect smile within your soul

Amiss Without



Their eyes to the loose soil

Nobody says a word

Cries of anguish deep inside  

But not a wimper is heard

Aching for the other half...

Left here alone to walk the path...

The dirt now packed and the people gone.

All are gone except for one

A single rose clutched in one hand

He kneels down to touch the ground

Placing his hand upon the stone...

Ever so softly he weeps alone.

Amiss without.

She was the one, to whom he'd of given his first born son

No longer here to lighten the load...

Taken from him, to her new abode

A prayer on the wind of summer's breath

Carried to the heavens, wishing for death...

A broken man his hand does shake

A rose left which no hand can take

Words forgotten never meant so much...

As his cheek caressed by a lover's touch

I love you never seems enough

When it is your heart that has been snuffed...





http://deepundergroundpoetry.com/poems/28690-amiss-without/

Sitting on the front porch, the light wind is tickling my hair
I see you with the kids and think of us,  and where we have been
The life were trying to get right
We would walk the streets hand in hand
Picking daises to put in my hair
Long conversations over dinner and wine
Such a mystery you were
Years later you became defeated
That day that was tragic and real
I know that the voices admired you most
We could not escape
With medications that made you high
While others made you sleep all day
Watching your decline was so hard to see
When you painted the children's rooms
With blood that day
It was such a delightful day
We gathered in the yard
I watched the kids play
So innocent and sweet
Playing, having dirty feet
Climbing trees and chasing one another  
I relive those moments in my head

I have lost all I had
The sun has died
The clouds are not in the sky
I ran to the store the kids needed milk
How they drank it to grow
Big and strong just like dad
You seemed better to me
Home from the hospital
The doctor promises your medications are right
I'm tired and drained
I leave the kids at your side
Who would have thought that day would be


Searching the house looking for them
I see a blood filled shoe
Tiny hand prints and torn skin
I vomit all that I have  
My body seems to shut down
I fall to the ground feeble with pain
An unimaginable disgusted and hopeless feeling
I sob and scream
Please God, this has to be a bad dream
I run to the phone, I know its to late
My little tiny angels that I need
I weep everyday since they been gone
Why couldn't I be the one

I suffer everyday and think of them so
He sits in a hospital but I refuse to go
Voices are so strong , perhaps he didn't know he was wrong
My life is done I'm not complete
I shall go to sleep
With a bottle of booze and his medications
I go falling slowly then quickly I descend
I see three beautiful faces my babies once again

Happy Fatherless Day

I wrote a poem with the same title last year, same day.
But it had a crueler meaning.
I grew to not want to be around my father,
because of how he treated my mother.
So I ignored him.
And pretended that he was ignoring me still.
Like he did when I was a child.
And I wrote a poem.
Laced with anger.
And hatred.
For a man I didn't really know.
But now I write this poem.
For a different reason.
Because my father is not ignoring me.
Nor I ignoring him.
My father is gone.
As of last August.
There is still no grave.
And the ashes of my father's remains.
Are not in my possession.
But in my sister's that never bothered to visit him.
And so I am brought to standing in front of his bed.
Morphine dripping inside of his veins.
To stop the pain in his leg.
The leg they were going amputate.
But couldn't cause he got sick.
And now he's in too pain.
And they can't, they can't to it--
Tears slide down my cheeks.
As I am a little girl again.
My mother is trying to tell me to tell my dad how I really feel.
When he's not around to be with me.
But I freeze, and don't want to make Daddy sad.
But now I can't live in the way.
So I step close to the bed.
And I say:

"Daddy-- It's me, it's Annie.
I'm sorry I didn't come visit you sooner.
I was angry with you--"

I stop trying to fight tears.
Take a deep breath.
And than continue.

"You were never there for me really.
Not when I was little.
And that made it hard for us to be close,
when I got older.
And I love you.
And I always wanted to know you.
But I don't--
I don't know you.
And you don't know me.
I wish you did.
Because, my favorite color is purple.
Just like yours and I love you.
I'm sorry that I wasn't here for you recently!
But I tried so often before and you pushed me away.
I wish you hadn't drank so much.
Or went to a bar.
Or been so stubborn in the first place.
I love you and I don't want you to die!"

But he still did.
And I cried.
Staring at a wall.
Listening to music that I dedicated to my dad.
That not held a different meaning.

Now it's almost been one entire year.
And there is still grave to place flowers on.
The obituary in the paper was joke.
And the ashes are being held hostage by someone that does not deserve them.
And I am crying inside.
A little girl missing her daddy.
Maybe she didn't treat him so well in the end.
But she looked up to him as the moon and sun when she was little.
And I loved my dad.
No matter what anyone says I did.
I love him.
And I suffered more than anyone.
Because I was there for the drinking.
The trashing the house.
The fights between him and my mother.
I was there for the mood swings.
The anger when I was little.
And mellowing out when I got older.
The bars.
The friends.
The hitting and screaming.
I was there for the suicide threats.
And arguments in which my father wanted to really just protect me.
I was there for the Six Flags trips.
And the movies he watched.
I was there for Independence Day, Dutch, Bandits, Catch Me If You Can, and Code Art.
I was there for good things.
And the bad things just the same.

But I don't have the ashes.
Or something as reminder to this man.
Instead I have the memories that I will cherish forever.
I love you Daddy.
I'm sorry I didn't show it before.
Last year was not fatherless day, it was daughterless day.
And I'm sorry for that.
It's fatherless day this year for me.
Because you're not here for me to make last year up to you.
And say I'm sorry.
And I love you.
And I miss you.
And I wish you were here to see me and Gaige, your grandson.
I wish you were here.
And I'm sorry.
And what I really want to say,
even though it's kind of lame after all that has been said.

"Happy Father's Day, I love you Dad."