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Continue reading →: Throw Me a Line
When poetry slants, And phrases dribble down, My parched lips part, And life trickles in Where nothing else passes. A Psalm, a song, An edge-wise word Tipped over Into my soul.
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Continue reading →: Phunny
You think? I simply want to stumble Across laughter, Slip on some silly, And fall down, Belly rolling in Hysterical mud. Life is seriously funny Don’t you think? This smile?… You wipe it off my face.
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Continue reading →: Line Breaks
I tripped on a poem Of uneven lines. No rhymes. The phrases phased Me, and looking up, My steps were Unattended. That’s when the gravel Met my hands And embedded My palms. Line breaks My fall.
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Continue reading →: Driving Through History
Each Memorial Day I visit my father’s grave marker at sunrise. It started in the year 2000, the first anniversary of my father’s passing. My three brother’s and I met to reminisce, pray, and pay some respect to a life, without which we wouldn’t have our band of brotherhood. This…
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Continue reading →: Runaway Psalm
Oh God, how my heart beats me up. Its own rod and staff comfort me not. My face runs flat with self-control. My figuring has no end. My passions, frail, off balance Lead me beside myself Where no water is. Then a mockingbird flew silently by, And I heard…
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Continue reading →: Shelf Protection
The books are listing on the shelf. Pock marks left, where authors, dead and alive, moved over to my coffee table. Then there are the bookmarks tucked in many pages like floss reminding me there’s something, some thought waiting to get unstuck, dredged up between ideas old and…
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Continue reading →: If Tears Were Race Horses
If I release tears like race horses which one will fall into the lead? The gate opens and they’re off! Anger gets out at the jump, with Dissappointment a nose back. Loneliness makes a run for third, edged out by Rejection. Grief settles in between Laughter and Loss, While…
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Continue reading →: Mother Mary. A Mother’s Day Reflection
Originally posted on Gerald the Writer: She pondered these things in her heart. Mothers do that quite often. She kept all these things. My mother did too. ? An angel told Mary. The power of the Highest will. An overshadowing of foreshadows. “For with God nothing will be impossible.” ?…
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Continue reading →: Rain Mates
Let’s just skip the stones and get dirty. Mud pies in the face. Bear disgrace. Fall into place. Wallow and weep into each other’s eyes. The river’s a half-peck away from your cheek. We’re weak, let’s cinder sneak. We know who we are from where we were, and now is…
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Continue reading →: Besides the Point
The light fell down, bruised its knee preying in the shadows, tilling the ages spots on my brow and forearm. Today, while it still is, I will walk in the fallen light; that flipped switch of night. It dawned on me that light by which I see, is the point…
Gerald the Writer 