New Poems

As Winter Comes

Oh! There came no sunshine back home today.So faint it’s music now as snowflakes playO’er the cold-winded leaves fallen away. And so it is so always so – so always so As winter comes again so — so comes the snow.Comes with its sorrows and growth’s tomorrowsFrom shrill wind’s freeze

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Stay With Me

STAY WITH ME Every day I implore you to stay with me Not to ever leave me Stay with me through the night Sing with me in the rain Rise with me at the Dawn Meet me in the garden Stay with me as I wonder wander In my still

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We Didn’t Have to Learn to Cry

O! Just to learn to bear&hear the rimes of cries& joys, Before we cry ourselves to sleep. Wail-born in sounds of die –we didn’t have to learn to cry. We burst alive, womb-to-hands, sobbed and teary-eyed, Ready for this world’s salt-in-the-wound’s loving care With its daily fare-to-fair of truth-to-trust —-

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WHERE WILL I GO . . .? (44 lines of For Forever)

mdok— 5/29/21 Memorial Day Where will I go when there’s no race-place else to run? Where will I go when the great bell tolls “You’re Done?” Out in the wind! Clod in the ground! A struck statistic! The silence of sound! Merest click on Send-Delete! Mystic-compete of ride-the-stride –to rhymed-complete?

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EPIC JOURNEY– PASSENGER OVERBOARD/ONBOARD, AGAIN

Yes, deaths and loves-lost upheavals pushed one overboard. This voyage’s vessel sailed fine many a year—tacking windward Through tempests and storms — its keep held its holding of songs and breath. Then, that overboard fall into the dark waters of death in life/life in death — Swirled in “That dolphin-torn,

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MY VOICES IN PARADISE – [A VIP-RIP Summation Ode by mdok of mdok]

So many have so much to say- Pastors, Guru’s, Shamans of this and thatThe Illuminati, Cognoscenti – each a fandom of Cultist this Savant that – Talking conspiracies and scriptured theories of heavenly kingdoms, Afterlife RIPs of Reunions In Paradise: Religion’s Immortal Protocol.Being so creaturely mortal — it’s difficult to

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IF I SHOULD LIVE ANOTHER DAY

IF I SHOULD LIVE ANOTHER DAY If I should live another day, It will be to love another day Some tomorrow in the present Some portent beyond yesterday. If I should live another day, Rise with dawn, breathe the dare It will be to love another day Beholden by the

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THE WAITERS

They’re out there…waiting! Some sense it more than some. But, no surprise with waiting done, As someday the news reports “I died.” Oh, head crowned with laurels spun, But no quarried stone on lonely sod With cuts for passers-by to ponder-on. Oh, the wait for “such-a-me” to be gone! Any

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THE WAIT

I’ve known the takes of winter — the last leaves; The cold, brittle branches bare in the wind, Creaking above the grounded yesterdays. My bark sings to charm that residue within, Waiting to bloom old limbs once more to love; That next love affair that wakens us new, Bold past

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