Tag: isolation
member name: Daniel Irwin Tucker
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November 20, 2007 05:05 PM EST --
The last few dying leaves of Autumn
Desperately clutching their sterile life-line
Like a hopeful body preserved cryogenically
Refusing to give in to the inevitable
Season of death.
. . .
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March 13, 2009 05:25 PM EDT --
Note - Dedicated to Wade A. for encouraging me to get out of a creative slump --
primarily caused by the chronic pain of prolonged health problems -- with his poem, The Tide.
. . .
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March 11, 2008 04:00 PM EDT --
When the mountain
I am afraid to climb
The ropes and tackles
In abundance be.
In perfect shape
My body and mind
Not a weak link
In the expedition.
But when the mountain . . .
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March 20, 2008 04:56 PM EDT --
I sat by the bedside the day my father died.
The cancer that had riddled
His soul now had complete control.
He fought kicking and screaming the night the
Ambulance . . .
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May 14, 2008 04:24 PM EDT --
Shake me
Please
Somebody shake me.
Awaken me
From this febrile trance
Furtively pilfering my
Heart's old treasure
Once guarded by
Comforting spirits
Of warm hopes and
Beliefs . . .
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May 23, 2008 04:31 PM EDT --
Here I am bleeding again Taken aback by mortal fear. Staring at faith Staged by hope. Pouring rain on visceral cage- The sound of deep Calling to deep.
Repressed feelings buried by time. Epitaph . . .
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May 21, 2009 03:37 PM EDT --
"The Worst Things:
To lie in bed and sleep not.
To want for one who comes not.
To try to please and please not."
--Egyptian Proverb
It fades in and fades . . .
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January 31, 2009 05:10 PM EST --
My friend came by the other day.
As a leaf in the wind he has blown
From street to street,
Town to town.
. . .
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November 19, 2008 02:29 PM EST --
I am weakened without Imagination
Which lifts me above the bitter waters
I have drunk from like a thirsty deer that
Ignores the faint acridity and laps the coolness
Till its mid-section . . .
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December 02, 2008 06:02 PM EST --
Note. I posted this poem last year at about this time and thought it fitting to repost.
The last few dying leaves of Autumn
Desperately clutching their sterile life-line
Like . . .
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