Not Lost in France

Poetry

Sunday, April 26, 2009

Dominique.

Caressing the essence of invisible curves

that floated around the overly wrapped body

the fine lines above the face

that once held

laughing eyes

youthful memories stiil carved

in the sunken yellow

mask

touching her soul

ever so lightly

fearing the

fragility

of the moment,

I watched as

she welcomed death with

peaceful

opened arms.

I kissed her brow, then her cheeks

and smiled

then like a cat I slipped away into

the afternoon sun.

Cursing the swaying

indifference

of spring flowers.

Dave English (c) April 2004

 

Dachau !

A final judgement

brought by fascist order

justice blinded by snarling dogs

The common man

craving solitude

remembering

briefly

the ecstasy of life

Evil transforming the

innocent

no gratitude

even less mercy

as they cried square tears

to wash away

the gas that stung

their eyes

Only the pain and

hunger

that war

had provoked

The history of many

buried

by the

Angel of Death

Love

Is no more

and the soul

has ceased to exist

tell me Oh Lord!

What can be left of

Self?

Dave English (c) May 2004.

 

 

Modem Heartbeats

Switching on

to her planet

breathing in the

latest

electronic whispers,

her eyes fixed on

a screen

that hid her from

reality

she typed away her

existence

An angel cried

as broken hearts

gathered round

linking their despair

to hers

"connect failure"

then the silence

as night finally

gave way

to day .

Dave English (c) 2002

 

 

ABC

Author of his proper destiny
Broken by the silences of his past
Crying out for some kind of recognition
Drying his eyes on a young girls shoulder
English rose shy and contemplative
Forgetting the hard times when he had been
Growing up in the shadows that others cast
He bows his head to the wind
Ignoring that each step
Joined another path.
Killing the image that he had carried
Laughing at his misfortune
Mocking the twists of fate
No one turned to see him pass
Only a child who had seen an angel could understand
Private thoughts a
Quest unfulfilled
Reminding him that the road was long
Silently he marched on
Triumphing
Under pressure, his head held high
Victory approaching
With each hesitating step
X marking the spot just
Yonder past the rising sun, to a
Zone, where peace was waiting to embrace him.

David English © January 3rd 2000.

 

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