A Small Collection of Poems
Here’s a small collection of poems I’ve written, from the Archive. [See today’s writing prompt at the bottom of this post.]
Dawn
When the earth cracks open to release the muted fire of the sun turning slowly to create a new day outlining the blue of the emerging sky that fades into purples and pinks briefly reminding me to let go of everything before this moment and after to greet the renewed cycle alone and release all man-made burdens to the daylight before they begin to sink past the horizon of dusky twilight so that I may begin again and behold another celestial event at daybreak. To live again and again and again. Forever evolving and starkly beautiful. Our enduring comfort of new days. Begin again and again and again. Until we or our sun reaches an end. Which will only bring a new beginning. A new dawn to experience eternally.
(Read the original post here.)
Natural Disconnect
The connection of disconnection Out among the trees of falling leaves While falling in and out of time In a place that is alive but not mine To keep track of the tracks while Trying not to leave behind a trace Of my treks on thinning expanse that Is being closed in and bartered now For unnecessary exorbitances unseen So literal life can be sold to bidders At the cost of extinguishing all the light Inside out, up and down and all around The bright colors of dawn and dusk transposed Across the felled skies and oceans and trees Cutting down all literal tethers of oxygen that Bind our lives to Earth and Sea and tomorrow Gone. But why? How come? There is no human rhyme or reason to Disrupt the connection of disconnection Of the past lives of the falling leaves That will no longer outline my steps Erased by bulldozers and debt ceilings I can’t and won’t owe when they come due For the otherworldly intangible commodities Already sold to the highest faceless bidder I never owned or saw or touched or wanted Underneath the raging fires of energy Exhumed and exposed to naught Outside the dark tomb, outside in and all around Severing the breath of my life at dawn and dusk From the blue skies and oceans and trees Cutting down all literal tethers of oxygen that Bind our lives to Earth and Sea and tomorrow Gone. But why? How come? Does it really need to be said? What is it all really worth, this natural disconnect, when we’re all dead?
(Read the original post here.)
Liberty
The green-copper flames of freedom Beckoning all across the choppy seas To triumph over waves of burden To lay at her sandaled feet, to be The torch of the tired, weary masses Lit for all to read, to breathe The declarations of life first, not classes To bill the rights of all humanity The bold stance of honor, kindled grace Poised for all to civilly emulate, to meet The crown of connections to embrace The brave new world of evolving equality The engraved tablet of steel, chronically Nestled in broad arms of justified iron To remind us all of our living history The eternally ignited emancipating fire For thee, I burn boldly in statuette For thee, I live and roam freely For thee, I scale symbolic parapets For thee, I sing, sweet Liberty
(Read the original post here.)
Road Trip
Windows halfway down. Crisp summer air tousling our hair. Charged by the vibrant energy of renewal. By the light of life. And constant movement. Wheels and headlights. Driving all night. Heavy eyes. Exhausted hearts. For the time. Being. Dreaming of a future that only lives in that moment. Not caring much about the blurry road ahead. Listening to stories of love and loss and twinkly lights. Laughing until we were spent. And full. To the brim. Almost ready to begin. Again. Distance closing in. Heart to heart. For once. Just us. Amidst the persistent median. Trees and trucks blazing by. Through the busy night. In steady haste. Long enough to feel frozen. In time. We reached our final destination. Where the journey faded into the dawning light. Precarious and fickle. The past passed us by. Too soon. Fate had arrived.
(Read the original post here.)
Survival
The waning sun embodies the ticking of time. In the fading twilight oceanside. She has left the light of night. Lost, but wondering. Where to now? Against the rising moon? With nothing but the developing black clouds for company. She thinks, and wanders. No direction. All around, faint rumbling. Like someone is bowling balls for sport. In the distance. Innocent. The waves crack. The wind bellows a warning. Thunder breaks overhead. Louder now. Dimming her turbulent adolescent consciousness. In a hazy underwater seabed. Along with her tipsy anesthetized swagger. In the saltwater. Silent footsteps approach. Hunting. Haunting. Quickening. And then. Crash! Boom! Bang! All at once. Her body is nothing but a blur rolling in the sand. As the riptide and fear tears at her seams. Echoed by too distant screams, calloused hands, and sharp knees. For those in the distance carry on with their nightlife. Oblivious to her mini hurricane on the beach. Holding their umbrella drinks, sheltered. Nowhere to see or be seen. Forearms blocking muffled bursts … help… help… …heeell… She is gargling. An hour in the glass rages on for minutes. In the eye of the storm. Driftwood appears. A damp buoy washed ashore. Resistance surges. Her survival instinct flares to life. She reaches and grabs to regain her balance of the skies. As the torrent of rain falls and lightning strikes. Smack! Thwack! Thunk. No more. Tranquility. Calm. By the raging sea. Survival. As wide as any ocean. And just as deep.
(Read the original post here.)
Motion
It holds the texture of the wind but feels like nothing private while caressing priceless objects and industry and epochs in time and space as a holy human law that is a real thing with no ticking clock besides the one we give it that is also only a vessel both endowed and intrinsic in time and space a living thing that is inert once contorted and controlled but free when wild and enlivened within a pure state of anarchy that exists beyond the manmade outside inside space and time of the sensing and perceived and confined life.
(Read the original post here.)
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© All Rights Reserved by K.E. Creighton; Creighton’s Compositions LLC.
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Today’s Writing Prompt
Writing Prompt: Poem, Faith
Write a poem about faith.
Writing Tip
Keep in mind that this writing prompt is intended to spur your creativity. You don’t need to be an expert poet in order to feel inclined to complete it. Just experiment with words a little bit and see what happens.
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