Dear Mom,
I can not put your love into words
And the more I learn of your past
The more I realize
That I didn’t know you
Not really
You were able to see the depths of my soul
While I barely scratched the surface of yours
I would do anything to have one more day…
One more hour…
One more minute…
To see you again
You were stronger than I knew
braver than I could comprehend
Wiser than I wanted to believe
If God is unconditional love
Then I must admit
That I would have trouble
Distinguishing you from the Lord
A Message To Death.
Oh Death i know you will come and take me away,
But the memories of me will be with my close friends to stay,
I have no fear if you were to come,
As my love will be always there for my loved ones,
Your the part of life where there is no running from,
Yet their still beauty inside you which no one can fathom
#poetry #Life #motivation #inspiration #quotes.
©Alipoetry, All Rights Reserved.
Between the Lines
Each story starts
with just two lines,
in pink
inked
on a stick;
developing an image
in the dark
of mother’s crib —
where spiritual is present
as the body,
formed of flesh,
hides
future sight
from vision
’til it stretches, thin, the mesh —
&
through the window pane,
we fall
like Alice
down the hole,
to chapters
that were written
before eyes
covered
our souls.
Purpose pens the plots,
each path,
(the author
yields free-will
in every choice
between the lines:
heartbeat
to limb leads
still).
’Til deja vu,
a bookmarked page,
illustrates
what’s been,
and destiny
reads right to left,
beginning
from the end.
Heavy Hearts
God wrote of eternity
and placed it in our hearts
perfect love that drives out fear
a light within the dark
So enemies of his and ours
distort the truth and fire
shadows formed in silence
twisting heavenly desires
The longing for security
beyond the other side
where all the evil, pain, and tears
are washed in crimson tides
Will always be a part of us
as long as time remains
but, sanctified, each thought we have
yields grace in Jesus’ name
The power over each deceit
a plumbline to his throne
where every lie meets its defeat
until he calls us home
Insistence
I comb with needles of words
I float out with the breath of morning
Coffee
I sit up high on Empire State Building
Legs dangling
High heel pointed
Like a dagger
At passing
Ants
Freeing the wind as its tail is sunk
In mudgrass and I run,
Shoes disappearing as the
Earth turns
Square
This is before trees fall upon pages
And mute the birds
But the ground was never rooted
And the sky could
fall down
Cranes and Birds
In bed, cranes turn to birds.
The light’s glow licks their feathers.
Above are rain-dipped stars:
Bright fireflies, imposing gates.
The tap slows & scurries away.
Mother distances from the screen.
She is mummified with lotion.
I watch her eyes swimming with tears.
Each stroke of the clock sweeps
Away another package of my bundled thoughts—
Feet becoming strangers
As feathers sneak inside the pillow
Cold milk staining the window
A new day calling my name
In bed, birds turn to cranes
The night unfurls the papers...
Camera—Broken
Die with liveliness
Rats with wings
Come back to consciousness
The young flower girl at her wedding
Burning with your coin cough
Water calling in the sirens as you blacked out
Bagboys murdered birds enough
For old trees to growl about
Seek out fragrant ashtrays
Cast fake blood on the snow
Pack poor women betrayed
By the letter O into jars of the bungalow
Dying bodies left in the rain haunt you to surrender
Yourself to start over
Pretension
Antlers of war
Pose
Like fashion models
For brief camera clicks
Fighting for attention
Fighting for success
Skin leaving to bare
The beauty
Blood rolling out for their
Red-carpet entrance
Call it quits will you
Peace love & happiness
Just start talking
Make amends
Bow out humbly
As long as the gazes of people
And the snaps of cameras continue
Posing is still a running business