Under the Street Light
by Serena Mossgraves
the cold sets glistening
the ones that live
under the street light.
with no roof above them
the light exposes the
darkness below.
no home, no warmth,
the night is just another thing
to harry the broken soul along .
The Past
by Patricia Harris
the past is gone
forgotten,
repeating.
it leaves so many
feeling defeated.
it is not even happening
in a different way,
the past is gone...
so we will have to
live it all over again.
Shame
by Serena Mossgraves
sitting in the dark
thumbing though
shame drenched
memories.
Wishing I had
a light to
illuminate the
truth in what
was just me.
The Problem with the Pen
by Patricia Harris
the poetry seems to flow
when the pen is no where
within my grasp,
inspiration striking as sleep
begins to take ahold.
I wish my memory
was set to be
as perfect as writing
the words would be.
Then I would have never
lost the words that crossed
my mind you see.
When Death came in
by Serena Mossgraves
we welcomed him with a smile
for the cards had laid clear,
when death came in
we all awaited him.
now please don’t worry
please don’t fear,
death was not the end at all
it was the choice to start again.
when death came in
the walls would fall,
and the ghosts would be
no longer drowning us
in a waterfall made of
memories and sin.
Unspoken
by Patricia Harris
I have forgotten how
much I enjoyed
the wprds that were
a river flowing from my mind.
so much to say
I somehow never
expected the world
to kill the joy in words
I could so easily find ...
struck dumb in the face
of what was humanity revealed,
I hated what I found.
it was easier for me
to live in the unspoken
then to fight cruelty all over again.
I am seeing so many people argue about the truth lately. No one has any idea about what it is anymore. Here is what the truth is.
the truth is personal,
perspective skewed,
and always changing.
It is political as Hell
and painfully littered with bias
It is so powerful
and passionate about what it knows,
it is pure and simple
It always grows.
it is ego
it is faith
it is standing your ground
and it really gets around.
no one can tell you
what your truth is
no one knows it but you.
Moonlight Muse
by Serena Mossgraves
As the moonlight illuminates
the world around me,
that is when my muse awakens.
Though the whole world
is closing its eyes,
and I find myself wanting
to settle in weak and weary…
the muse is insistent
I pickup the pen
and bleed again .
The Language of Poetry
by Patricia Harris
it seems like poetry
is so out of reach,
the language oft
dark and deep.
the poet's soul
broken into metaphor
and need,
written in a language
only the heart can read.
Pull the strings
by Serena Mossgraves
The political voice
spreading propaganda
is putting more darkness
out across the land.
It is time again for us
to light up the world
with a creative plan.
Turn on the light,
spread joy as far
as you can.
pull the strings
on the last lamp
and illuminate the lies
before they take hold.
Pattimouse 