He’s Gone!

Inhaling smoke from your flame

Burning in the heat of the moment

You were warned, you were told

Did you listen? No!

Now you will burn

Like flash paper in a magician’s hand

Combustible feelings up in smoke

That mind-blowing moment gone

Your all-consuming desire

Not quite what you expected

Leaving ashes for memories

Dust in the wind

He’s gone!

Painting: Dwight L. Roth

Our Children

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How fast they grow leaving us behind
Dependent creatures with insatiable needs
Little bundles of joy crying at every whim
Now grown, mature, and independent
It was our original goal from the start
Sort of like wanting to go to heaven
Just not now
Life moves on and so do they
Taking our hearts leaving an empty chair
Sometimes detours got in the way
We tried our best not to get in their way.
Although we worked so very hard
Some will stay,
Needing our nurture and strength
Yet another day.
Whatever the outcome life moves on
Slowly leaving us behind to observe
With pride and joy the persons
They have become.
And… whether they go or stay
We love them anyway.

Photo: Dwight L. Roth

Keeping Quiet

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I read this poem earlier this week and thought it was very appropriate for the time we are experiencing, with our stay at home order. Maybe a little silence would be in order.
KEEPING QUIET
by Pablo Naruda
Now we will count to twelve
and we will all keep still
for once on the face of the earth,
let’s not speak in any language;
let’s stop for a second,
and not move our arms so much.
It would be an exotic moment
without rush, without engines;
we would all be together
in a sudden strangeness.
Fishermen in the cold sea
would not harm whales
and the man gathering salt
would not look at his hurt hands.
Those who prepare green wars,
wars with gas, wars with fire,
victories with no survivors,
would put on clean clothes
and walk about with their brothers
in the shade, doing nothing.
What I want should not be confused
with total inactivity.
Life is what it is about…
If we were not so single-minded
about keeping our lives moving,
and for once could do nothing,
perhaps a huge silence
might interrupt this sadness
of never understanding ourselves
and of threatening ourselves with
death.
Now I’ll count up to twelve
and you keep quiet and I will go.

“Pablo Neruda was a Nobel Prize winning Chilean poet-diplomat and politician. Neruda became known as a poet when he was 13 years old, and wrote in a variety of styles, including surrealist poems, historical epics, overtly political manifestos, a prose autobiography, and passionate love poems such as the ones in his collection Twenty Love Poems and a Song of Despair (1924). He won the Nobel Prize for Literature in 1971.”

                                                                                                                                                                ~From Wikipedia~

Photo: Dwight L. Roth

 

Surreal Dreams

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The tragic death of basketball star Kobe Bryant, his daughter, along with seven others in a helicopter crash once again reminds all of us that ,”life is but a dream!” It can be taken from us in an instant. It is so sad when lives are taken in their prime. For those left behind it must all seem like a bad dream.

Sudden death brings shock
Like living a dream too surreal
Never forgotten
Their spirit’s always with us
A deep sadness lies within

Photo: Dwight L. Roth

At d’verse Lillian asked to write a poem about dreams. There are many kinds of dreams. I chose to reflect on the events of this week, and the lives lost in California.

Join us at:  https://dversepoets.com

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