Poetry Corner
 
One Man's Journey
Long, bent fingers twist against the gale.
Crooked, they clench the wind blown sheet.
Piercing droplets hammer a furrowed brow.
As Fractured light rips the stern,
and crashing thunder echoes, unheard.
 
A fight for life is launched,
As Battlements are set against Neptune's wrath.
Toiling, straining, to reach the bow,
There is one last wave, and then adieu
 
Down into its brittle grip,
the man sinks within the brine.
His ether is lost unto the fish,
As the once brave man breathes
sip
by sip.
 
No dirge is wailed,
No honor is shone,
No tears of love are shed,
For the man
who is not coming home.
 
Juneau
The mountains jutted from the landscape,
Piercing the dusk laden sky,
As lanky trees blanketed the expanse below.
An opulent array of reds and purples
streamed through the cottoned clouds,
embracing the remains of the resplendent summer day.
The shimmering crystalline waters reflected back
the iridescent cascade of color in the darkening sky.
On wide wings I descended into the dream-like vista
The awesome display of color placing a longing of home in my heart.
 
Such beauty have I rarely seen,
Nor shall I ever see again,
Unless I am allowed someday to return,
To the land I dream of each night.
 
A Mother's Love
In friendship is the power,
In destiny lies the path,
Forever mixed, they mingle,
Never wavering from their aim.
In joy and sorrow they cling to thee,
In heartache they lend their care,
In times of trouble, they listen,
Knowing what you need.
 
It is a thing so special,
A bond greater than life.
It is the love and joy and strength,
Given freely and without reserve,
A proud and impregnable barrier,
To that which would bring you down.
It is their love, a mother's pride and joy,
That sends you out into the world,
In hopes that you will someday be,
That of which they've dreamed.
 
Ropes of Burning Bridges
Alaska's reverent call echoes,
against the cavity of my soul.
Its tall pines beckon,
exacting me towards the trail.
Mouths,
ice-filled mountains
bellow their blame teeming pleas.
Foretold, a foregone fashion,
pulls my body north.
Pulsing, my blood courses,
as the rivers that forge the land.
Enticing my tenement of clay
upon the boreal path.
 
I cultivate forgiveness,
weltering in mountainless valleys.
Laughter of torment plagues me,
cognizant of my fate.
Fettered, my ankles stumble,
as the path withers to dust.
 
Beyond my back lies the flat expanse,
the untenanted, impotent hollow.
Lurid - forsaken - a wasteland,
denying my escape.
 
Desire to espy loam-hooded shores,
I require the redolent ether.
I compose my conveyance outward,
And the path before me is unmasked,
a wind reveals its shadow.
Breaching the expanse, my feet succumb
unto nature's coercive tug.
A dance of miles taken,
Northward I return.
The barren land, now a mere whisper,
vanquished by midnight's sun.
The past no longer lingers,
The future is now
- - - behold.
 
The Burning Spire
The incandescent spire descends unto the hollow,
Glimmering with its coral hues,
Reflecting the burnt sienna of the setting sun.
From the realm of wonder it appeared,
And all who see startle, then freeze with fear.
For never before upon this land,
Has Valhalla's stair danced.
 
Thor, with his might hammer,
Crashes into Gaia's exalted domain,
As two religions clash,
Fighting for the right to abide.
 
Earth sieges upward,
To strike a mighty blow,
As the hammer of Valhalla
Descends upon its enemy,
Shattering the hardened dirt
into a cascade of stones.
 
The people of Gaia,
Finally shaken from their fright,
Scatter among the trees,
Attempting to hide their eyes.
Their ears they try to cover,
Their screams they hope go unheard,
In a failing effort to block out
The war of the gods.
 
For twenty nights and twenty days,
The lightening from the sky cracks,
And the earth heaves and rumbles.
All the while the spire stands.
A sign that Thor yet lives.
Beneath the base of the mighty tower,
A crack suddenly appears,
As a mountain forms, slowly pushing upwards.
Marble shards crumble,
As the variegated fragments tumble to the ground.
 
The peal of Gaia's laughter
Echoes through the land,
As a dejected, lessened god Thor,
Declines his head from its righteous pose.
The hammer rakes across the ground,
Its lightening all but spent.
Heavy feet shake the ground
As the dejected god ascends his unearthly spire.
 
The people of Gaia slowly emerge from the trees,
Sounds of weeping, and joyous song
Echo forth from their lips,
Because they know that a new age has begun.
The answers to life must now be found
Within Gaia's earthly home,
For no more revelations will descend from heaven.

~*~All poems on this page were written by me, Roni Alsman, and are my sole property. Please do not reproduce them for any purpose without my written consent.~*~

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