5 Poems

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Romance  |  House: Booksie Classic

a few poems

The short poems written for this book holds importance for me 

And are mostly dedicated or oriented for my brother so please don’t read unless

You’re my brother, Harry, thank you.

There are five poems in total Harry so please read them all.

One about how I feel right now,

the next was dreams I had when I was younger and have all ways stuck with me

the next was just a spooky story

after that was one about my dog

the final one is directly about you so I won’t spoil anything.

 

For What I Do

 

I grew up knowing what I was going to do.

I knew the days would be warm

in shine or storm,

I knew I would be playing with my friend,

I never saw the end-

It was simple. 

 

Now, burning bridges 

with simple short words.

Living in a house of falling cards.

Time is viscous.

 

Seeing what once was, you drain away,

begging to fear every passing day.

Not knowing if you want to leave or stay,

everything is on a highway, 

So I will see you again someday, in another way.

 

Not knowing now where I’m going to be

or what's going to happen to me,

I don't know what I’m going to do,

all I know that I’m nothing compared to  you.

And for some of you, 

 I'm aggravating, irritating and time wasting,

but to my own family, I bring sorrow, sadness, 

and it hurts

because I’ll try to blow it over with a joke or two

but it never works.

 

So in the end,

I’m regretful and remorseful for what I do.

I'm sorry to all of you.

Thank you.













 

Dreams

Cyclops sits and stairs

Sitting in kids chairs

At the kids table

The guy seemed unstable.

Soup was delivered 

Cyclops' eye melted.

 

I wake up to sounds of marching

tin soldiers bangin On my door

I do not know what for.

 

Sailed on salty seas

Porky led me ashore to sees my ability to sneeze

Dropped in a whole with Flint I began to sink

 

Onto the street mom wanted to eat

Cardboard cuts, snails did follow 

Fell down a cold metal slide to meet with a pale man with no eyes,

 

I awake to see everything as it should be 

The girls out of the corner of my eyes staring at me.
























 

Red Lamp

I had a meeting with my physiatrist today: we talked about my family,

mostly about Dad, which made her worry about my sanity

but all I said was true so I will recount it with you.

 

It was a Tuesday morning during a mid-fall break 

Mom was outside dealing with the dog shouting ‘for heaven’s sake!’

Our dog Spot was a good old hound but always messing around

Taking laundry off the rack or chewing on a stool.

Mom was a teacher at the school.

 

Dad was a miner toughen by the iron

He was dragged back to the mine as if there were a siren

He worked late and left early but me and mom never worried 

Until one day he was gone for a fortnight 

Then he appeared at our door looking a ghastly sight

 

Wearing his overalls tattered blackened by something foul

His skin was stained by coal and serrated by some hell fowl

He had at his hip a Red light the gleaned so bright in the cold night

I looked back to his face stoic as stone

But it looked like he didn’t remember his home

 

Mom was quick to bring him in 

Sat him down and ask “what happened Finn?”

All he said was “water” when mom didn’t move he said in crying laughter 

“Water! Water! Water! Get me water!” he ended coldly

I began to cry mom took hold of me and consoled me

 

Dad got up and snached me 

And threw me against a painting of our Ancestry 

Dad grabbed the axe by the fire, acting like Lear, he lunged like a bear

Onto mom with the axe swinging down

The light at his hip fell to the ground

 

Dad seemed to clear from the red fog

But creating a valley, a new split log

Dad feared, time felt weird

Gunshots rang in the night

And the dark  room was filled with a blinding red light.











 

Postmortem

 

Will I remember your voice with passing time?

I will remember your eyes of deep auburn.

How it ended was a true horrid crime,

In the frigid night, left ne'er to return.

 

But in silence of the postmortem night,

In the silence of the following day.

You were passing by just to say “hi”, why?

So you hasten the trip. you have to die?

 

I’m not mad, I just fear to face your eyes

Cause any time, it’s your cold auburn eyes.

 

Will i remember you with passing time

Will i remember anything from ten year from now 

I miss you, you took so much of me with you 









 


Submitted: October 14, 2021

© Copyright 2021 Will Weisenborn. All rights reserved.

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