Wednesday, December 16, 2009


When something bad happens, it is often hoped that bad will dissipate, so good will reign, but that isn't always the case. Not knowing eats at you. This poem is about that lack of control and helplessness.


Raging windswept flames burn mindlessly,
Contorted engine of anger hurls the moment forward
To benighted hope

Egress, whimpering arms of salvation,
Entrance through your door beleaguers man, empty
To temper his heart

Vengeance visits the wounded and the weak,
For knowing’s peace and restitution employs reality
To visit him