With us today is poet and author J. Rose Alexander.
Here is a little taste of her poetry.
CANDLES
In the darkness, a
candle burns
teaching those who'll
never learn
They see the light
and watch it grow
And I learn from
those who do not know
As the light grows
slowly brighter
It makes the darkest
shadows slighter
My lesson, now, I
know what 'tis
To teach the truth as
truth is
The light rides upon
the black
And at morrow's night
it shall come back
Without the dark, the
light is not
Nor is all for which
we fought
And in the dark, my
lesson's learned
And as thus, my
candle burned.
Silence Screams
Silence screams
A deadly sound
No earthly ears can
hear
They bring forth
tears
In angels' ears
A single note
resounds
A discordant note
Just slightly out of
tune
Sour to a listening
ear
A hateful note, flat
and sharp
As silence screams
inside
The angels' cry of
silence
Resounds in blinding
dark
What pain does inside
the heart
Scars the silent
souls forever
Silence sounds never
quite right
Soul
sometimes,
you can't see the sun
it
is blocked by the clouds
or
perhaps blocked out by you
and
then there is night
you
sit and you wonder
if
you will ever see day
the
moon sheds no light
the
stars seem dull
the
trees stand too tall in their
naked
Glory
the
grass is too brown in its
winter
slumber
and
you are left to think
will
I ever see the spring?
"Fast Enough"
If I
wake up Fast Enough
Will
I see myself standing?
If I
run Fast Enough
Will
I see myself standing?
If I
scream Loud Enough
Will
I hear myself whisper?
What
will I feel
If
my hate is Strong Enough?
What
will I know
If I
learn Long Enough?
How
much will I have
If I
work Hard Enough?
Can
you Hear what I say?
Can
you See what I've seen?
Can
you Learn what I know?
If I
dream Hard Enough
Will
I see reality?
And
if I die Fast Enough
Will
I see myself live?
Have you thought of Death
Have
you thought of death?
How
dare you? How dare you?
To
think of descending into black
to
never come back or return
Cheating
yourself out of life
While
we struggle through?
Have
you thought of death?
Don't
dare you! Don't dare you!
Black
swallows you whole
But
you don't escape, not yet.
You
come to the surface
and
gasp for air once more.
You
have thought of death----
You
dare you will! Then go---
Let
the black swallow you away
from
the world you tried to escape
Then
go--- I want never to see you again
You
think of death---
Oh
How I hate you---
Ihateyou!
Ihateyou! Ihateyou!
You
run away, a scared little child
So,
have you thought of death?
And
how dare you do so?
The
Black opens its arms
As
you descend down and down
Try
again-- one more time
And
so this time you do
Success
and demise at once
You
thought of death---
And
went------
Realization
I
feel my importance amid New York crowds.
I am
one among millions who shall be preserved.
I
fear nothing on the deadly New York streets.
I
am! I exist! See me! here, and now!
I
feel taller than the buildings by which I am awed
And
nothing, NOTHING could make me feel small.
But
when I stand in a fallow field,
Not
200 miles away,
I my
importance dwindle amid the grasses
I am
one among millions whose reason to be is not clear.
I
fear every rustle of wind in the trees.
Who
am I? Do I exist? Can you see me? where, and how?
I
feel less than the dirt on which I stand,
And
realize everything is larger than I am.
Fade
Could
it be?
All
this is over?
Shall
I say amen?
I
remember
morning
Waking
up before the sun
to
help with your lunch
riding
We
went all over
to
deliver cake and cookies
There
were a hundred rooms
it
seemed, to a little girl.
But
I could always find you
no
matter how many rooms.
The
car was green,
the
driveway narrow
the
car-port home-built
in
your enormous yard.
I
remember
coloring.
The
books I have
were
as big as me!
Sitting
The
bench at the front door
welcoming
company
A
little girl’s imagination
went
wild on those benches,
on
those back porches
in
that huge yard
I
remember
driving
It
seemed like hours
to
a sandy barren place
wondering
Live
there? But how?
There’s
no roof, no walls.
At
first, it was a cement block
Then
a collection of wood
I
don’t remember walls
There
were no trees.
I
wanted you to stay
not
to move so far away
Retirement
was a blessing
“Idle
hands....”
I
remember
playing
The
lawn was plush, green
carefully
trimmed.
getting
wet
We’d
bring our bathing suits
and
run through the sprinklers
There
was always something
for
us to do there.
A
garage full of things
of
memories, of junk
The
bicycle with a skipping chain
The
taped-up jump rope
The
ball-bearing balanced rope
The
harmonica
I
remember
searching
You
always went out to hide
out
Easter Eggs to find
singing
Out
came your harmonica
and
the songs we knew
There
were Christmases spent
at
my house
You
slept on the pull-our bed
Or
were supposed
You
left that night
We
didn’t know why.
Memory
made you go
Pride
forced you home.
I
remember
waking
There
was no one downstairs
to
sneak around
wondering
How
come you left?
Did
we make you angry?
If
only we had realized....
Many
more times would you go
Memory
forcing you to go
Pride
forcing you to keep going
It
was the first time you asked,
“Who
was that?”
For
someone you had known
all
your life
I
remember
watching
Your
hair grew greyer
Your
gadgets less original.
wondering
This
was the third time
you
had taught me that problem....
More
and more you watched
Less
and less you moved
The
chair was a sanctuary.
A
safe haven for retreat.
You
no longer remembered
Who
I was, who you were.
The
stories became jumbled
The
memories crowded.
“I’m
Jennifer, your granddaughter”
“I’m
Stephanie, your wife”
“I’m
Christine, your daughter”
“I’m
Paul, your son”
“I’m
Chester, your brother”
For
just one moment she turned
Just
a moment, there was no eye to watch
And
the next moment, you were gone.
The
eyes had nothing to watch.
The
forest--
cold,
dark
The
memory--
cold,
dark
No
one is around to tell you
where
you live
who
you are.
A
bed of pine needles,
ten
miles from a place you do not recognize
as
home
serves
as a bed
It
was on that bed you died.
Stubborn
body lived on.
No
one could say you had
not
been healthy
Your
body clung to life.
I
remember
hearing
They
had found you,
cold,
alone, half dead
seeing
A
shriveled and drawn man
cold,
alone, half dead.
Trapped
in a body which wouldn’t die
Trapped
in a mind that couldn’t remember
Were
you aware?
Did
you know?
You
walked for a while.
You
rode in a wheelchair for a while
You
stayed in a bed for a while
You
stayed in that bed.
I
remember
smelling
Your
flesh rotted before
your
heart stopped beating
looking.
A shriveled,
dying man lay there
this
was not you
Sicknesses
they could not name
ate
you inside out.
You
would not eat anymore
except
for yogurt
The
first call was a nurse
“Should
I call a priest?”
“Has
it come to this?”
I
went back to sleep.
I
remember
wishing
I
was seeing you die
and
I wished it sped along
wanting.
This
should be over
no
one needs to suffer
It
was quick and quiet.
The
way it should have been
on
that bed of pine
so
long ago.
You
hung on stubbornly
every
day forgetting
another
piece of yourself
‘til
there was nothing there
I
remember
crying
How
I would miss you!
How
unfair--
thinking.
Peaceful
and dignified
you
lay there
Perhaps
it looked like wax
But
it was peaceful there
And
finally, you were given
your
dignity back
As
much as we will miss you
it
is better this way.
The
grandfather I once knew
died
on a bed of pine
and
pined away on a bed
A
slow
agonizing
Fade.
Amen
I
remember mourning.
Poet Bio
Author of a few poems
here and there, co-author of "The Faction Stories",
"Penumbra:Equinox", and contributor to "Heroes &
Villains" Anthology, she lives in Pennsylvania with her husband and three
cats. Chatter box, compulsive writer, bon vivant, stunt commuter, and a ninja
in her dreams, J. Rose enjoys losing herself in the capes and masks of her
superheroes, finding new trouble for her witches and werewolves-- and is always
on the look out for a new adventure, on the page or in real life.Links:
Very nice. I like her poetry.
ReplyDeleteYes, she's very good. :)
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