(september) when morning falls

when morning calls

freedom falls

in halls of

bright blue skies shine;

someone calls

and all is fine

the fireball cries

someone calls

to say good-bye;

hearts beat between choices!

a hero’s  fight between choices!

wife, mother

husband, father

brother, sister

daughter, son

good morning!

the sun kisses all

the sun kisses us all!;

when morning shone

we went about

without doubt,  when we awoke

we’d see each other by dinner;

so we Dropped the kids off at school

hugged them and kissed them

and couldn’t wait for 

cartoon popcorn movie night;

when morning calls

freedom falls in halls

bright blue skies shine

someone calls and all is fine

fireball cries

someone calls to say good-bye

hearts beat between choices

through the smoke of confusion

he saw her eyes shining in flashback

the way her hand-held his

oh! when morning calls

freedom falls

in halls

of bright blue coloured skies shine;

someone calls and all is fine

fireball cries

and someone calls to say good-bye

hearts beat between choices

in last morning coffee sip

a last goodbye kiss

did we argue? did we make love?

a last hug embrace 

a last good morning joking;

when morning calls

freedom falls in halls

of bright blue skies shine

someone calls and all is fine;

a fireball cries

someone calls to say good-bye

hearts beat between choices

broken in a hero’s glass

      dreams brake and fall fast….

hearts beat between choices!

a hero’s fight between choices!

           but the sun always kisses us good morning

c. 2016, 2018  bgw

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where the memory stings somewhere between you and me

between the thin glass,

candlelight flickers

and monstrous dreams seep between red wine sips.

reminiscing through kept images of a popped up memory,

songs dance with a deep emotion in the present.

the warmth of the Christmas dressed fireplace,

the crackling fire spews and pops sparks;

a memory walked into the neighborhood

and found a cul-de-sac roundabout of a snow covered past.

memories drove around

and made tracks in the snow.

my eyes trace the falling flakes

from the softly gently frosting window viewed.

the Canadian highway ran through my mind

as the heartland’s frost falls heavy on the silo’s hibernation.

guilt and honesty

never knew each other well

but i found myself between the two.

honesty drank until the guilt awoke;

guilt was blind when honesty never showed.

:kisses rose in the sunlight:

and haunted my soul under a polarized moon.

 ice crystals fall

and drips itself over the icicles hanging a distant memory.

somewhere between you and me

self-inflicted pain

took off in an unmanned plane;

somewhere between you and me.

between the thin glass,

candlelight flickers

and monstrous illusions seep between red wine sips.

reminiscing through kept images of a popped up memories

somewhere between you and me

c.2016  bgw

another dreaming tale

4 a.m., the alarm of several screaming diesel machines.

the plume of smokestack signals.

and in that, some find the need for a cup of brewed coffee beans.

there found, on the horizon, the daylight tickles.

 

lost in a dreamed sea;  that is me.

a dawning fog rolls over the waves of thought.

oars that paddle but never to a shore sought.

on the midnight ocean black; shine on silver slivered moon.

 

the beginning always meets the end

and one day the right words will mend.

take off, and the plane will send

a delivered need of emotions hemmed.

 

a break in the bone,

and find the fool all alone.

a look in the mirror,

and find that fool looking back.

 

lost in a dreamed sea;  that is me.

a dawning fog rolls over the waves of thought.

oars that paddle but never to a shore sought.

on the midnight ocean black; shine on silver slivered moon.

 

 

c. 2015 bgw

when i find what’s next

the snow starts to fall

and the world sits in a quiet gesture.

move to the shore,

because inland was such a bore.

soundless motion;

seagulls without an ocean.

i dig in the sands

seeking for the words that are such;

blisters on my hands.

dinner table chatting

wine glass cheers clinking,

did i know you this long?

or did i fall in love before

the first hello ever blew onto shore?

and yet, the snow starts to fall

and the world sits in a quiet gesture.

move to the shore,

because finding the inland was such a bore.

 

 

 

c. 2015  bgw

when the moon stares

this old house sits.

it watches the dust fly around.

and i, i am here;

lying in this bed

watching this show inside my head.

all the dreams that besiege

acting like some sort of picture book;

flipping through all the pages of reflection.

and, when the moon stares,

it passes through my thoughts.

the solitude staircase always sits in its darkness.

this old house sits.

it watches the dust fly around.

the sun sets in colourblind photographs –

memories shake like leaves on an autumn tree –

one by one,

they all eventually fall to the ground;

none can find me,

and yet i am right here.

find my truths,

uncover my weaknesses.

find my weaknesses,

uncover my truths.

 

 

 

c.2015  bgw

indigo swims

a winter night’s rain falls; drizzles.

found finally

after a long crippling disappearing act,

ink appears and draws up these words;

the cold drifts through the piles of facts

while an old, dusty empty room chills the feet.

seeking in theses are hollow, reflective, blinding thoughts,

desperately shoving them full with memories engraved.

the last match strikes the box

and left a candle flame flickering.

small patches of ice floats down a blackened river

and there, justifying everything that was and all that is;

the darkened indigo swims and still leaves me in a silent creek bed ripple .

a familiar echo crosses the street

and invades every dream.

shadows raise a brow

and tips its hat to the last shone moonbeam.

a winter night’s rain falls; drizzles.

found finally

after a long crippling disappearing act,

ink glides and draws up these words…

 

c. 2015  bgw

anymore

i awoke to the golden crisp sunrise

shinning through the open window pain.

disappointment was standing there,

lurking beside my bedside, time slipping by;

i was cold and lonely.

waking to this summer morning,

there i was –

an empty bed and no telegram delivery.

while the coffee that brews,

waking, i stand here;

waiting, for the things i’ve lost –

to come back in different form.

i stand here in the kitchen

waiting for the things i’ve lost

to come back –

to come back in some different form.

a dear john letter,

and she won’t be coming back.

she won’t be anymore,

but forever a god damn attack on myself.

her amazing eyes,  never coming to this ship wreck.

solo black coffee toast,

yet i knew that some kind of pain was overdue –

a little expected,

but never not this soon.

never not this soon.

absolute can never be certain,

tell me it’s not this again –

she wont be coming back,

anymore,

anymore.

i awoke to the golden crisp sunrise

shinning through the open window pain.

disappointment was standing there,

lurking beside my bedside, time slipping by;

i was cold and lonely.

waking to this summer morning,

there i wasn’t,  and there i wasn’t.

 

 

 

c. 2015  bgw

springtime

church bells rang,

welcome!

sunday morning sunshine graced.

spring sprung and marched,

thawing!

glorious warmth brimming!

a hammock sways in a lazy breeze –

a lawn mower hums and spews the fragrance of freshly cut grass –

baby leaves flower and bloom

and birds sing a song rejoicing!

baseball!

the crack of the wooden bat –

the taste of a cold ballpark beer.

yes,  spring is here!

it’s a kayak trip down water’s slow current,

it’s a fishing trip with friends to the lake’s edge.

a blue sky with no clouds in sight!

the sizzle and smell of the charcoal grill,

springtime,  where children’s playground laughter fills an afternoon.

spring, once thought of a return exiled,

now proves to be not true.

so today we celebrate!

spring is here,  spring is here!

the church bells rang,

welcome!

sunday morning sunshine graced.

 

 

c. 2015 bgw

a parent’s tale

silk cotton sheets

in a curled up book view

was her late night vision.

five a.m.

wake up call delivery,

and the pre-dawn coffee brews.

kiss the stirring child good morning.

breakfast of cartoons and cereal smiles,

sending her off onto the bus –

and in a moment of realization,

once a baby in your arms

now grows into a childhood,

in a world she’ll seek herself.

oh, days like this,

“where did the time go?”

iron out the wrinkles

and the mid-afternoon snooze.

sesame street rhymes whistles

as the vacuum motor roars.

toys march out

and then back into treasure pile

laptop work,  deadline files.

a mother welcomes

a daughter hello smile.

dinner simmer’s,

homework sinners.

her goodnight whispers,

leads her to a storybook dream.

daddy’s little wonder,

a mother’s little miracle.

silk cotton sheets

and a curled up book view

was her late night vision,

two a.m.

and in only three short hours,

curtain calls.

 

 

c.2015   bgw

morning paper blues

new york city sits empty

in a crumbled ruin lie.

a civilization escaped from a violation

of the import/export of invasion

*

under a full moon light

the unfortunate timing

of a great lake drought,

now brought a lighthouse to failure.

*

from the train station downtown

the departure of romance

vanished and was never seen again.

but the tears from pain stayed in town.

*

when morning lost her sunrise

time was forever left in obscurity.

*

the blind face in the window

draws the curtain to an evading public.

written in blood on the surface was help,

but all that was read was encumbrance.

yet, found there on the cold tile floor

was the baby cut away,  nevermore.

*

in a world,  where creation was,

now sees only self outlasting solidarity,

charity is now done in flash and facade.

give yourself a hearty pat on the back.

*

a montana sky, open and bright,

now gets drawn in by towering metal devices.

native rocks disappear

with the roam of the buffalo.

*

when morning lost her sunrise

time was forever left in obscurity.

 

when morning lost her sunrise

time was forever left in obscurity.

 

 

c. 2014  bgw