Wait On Tomorrow
In the flat awful of your newly broken heart,
Find that space for a (yes) scant new start.
It’s a hard surprise, a twist in the plot;
It’s your chance to show ’em what you got–
A vision true to see over the far yonder hill:
That happiness can still find you, I know it will!
So repair to a bed that druther entertain two
That is again graced with the joy of just you.
Wait on tomorrow.
See the new day.
Start a new poem!
Aloning on New Year’s
Tried to share her in a poem,
But the heart would not scan.
Trying to forget all about her—
I fail, trying as hard as I can.
Winds turned to colding;
The heater runs all day;
I can see each wispy breath—
Singled out in about every way.
Staple-gun together some words,
But joy and doubt won’t rhyme.
Aloning it again on New Year’s—
It’s Love for sometwo else’s this time.
But, it’s all good for this po little coda.
And, yes please, a lil more rum for my soda.
Waylaid in the wrong parallel life
Ever been waylaid in the wrong parallel life
Such sadness, such death, and curdling strife
Cho killed Emily. Why. Who ever knows.
Tears still bedew at the nape of your nose
Petals before full bloom are buried too soon
Remember your friends erelong rises the next moon
Forgive, forgive the heart that lost its mind
I hope better times, brighter sunrises, all may find
But to understand, to unearth the seeds of hope
Some reason to live, some method to cope;
The solution may be much closer than you think
So forget gods, witch doctors, drugs or drink
When next waylaid in this wronged nonpareil place
Find ye the answer alive in any child’s face