Eons and generations
Come and go.  You remained,
Standing in freezing cold,
Through withering heat.
Sunrises and sunsets
Marked the days and nights.
Comets streamed past,
You, looking skyward to witness.
You became a beautiful green meteor
Falling to earth.

Oooo, oooo, the wind has a sudden voice
Ice crystals like trinkets hanging in the trees ******
As the stiff wind blows and mourns, we mourn

Banks of snow are built, torn down, rebuilt
The howl is haunting as it cries in distress, and we cry
New snow atop hard-pack crunches beneath bare feet

We have walked the soles off our moccasined feet,
No water can quench our thirst, for no water is given
We have dried up, blown away, like the husks of corn

Oooo, oooo, the wind has a sudden voice, we do not

Moaning, aching, memory
Exquisitely painful to touch.
Why do I reach for that place?
Cease, hear my command
O, ears open! Tormented mind!
Comfort I seek but do not find
Each time.

The weight of a dragonfly does not break the stem of a flower.

I love words that make you visualize
The intent of what the writer desires.
What the writer sees within the mind
Conveys what I can see in mine.

You said, "I love you."
I hear your echoes even now;

Although our love has fallen.  Down
With the trappings of human sentiment.

Who needs LOVE, anyway?  Not
I.

This poem began somewhat biographical due to aging eyes.  
It took a darker turn.  What else can you do with an unruly poem but write it?

I have imaginings trapped inside my mind
Yet, I fear that I may be going blind
Because lately this is what I find
I get bleary images and flashes of light
I try to focus with all of my might
It is no good, you know, it became a fright
No matter how I try, I can't adjust my sight

I said to them, in answer,
It can be that way with small-minded people

Love chooses you
She does not care for sensibilities
But sneaks up from behind
And places hands over your eyes
Then leads you with a smile
To where she wills you

the truth is a modest little flower

- be not content with one flower of truth
- had one been sufficient there would have been no more

gather each with all earnest effort
gather, ever seek for more

until every nook and cranny overflows
within your strong mind’s vessels

Try JW dot Org

Have you wondered about the meaning of life?
Is God to blame for our trouble and strife?
Do you have unanswered questions that make you sigh?
Do you ever wonder what happens when you die?

Yes - Life may trouble you
Bad news may trouble you
Questions trouble you as well they might.
If life troubles you - questions trouble you, try JW.org website.

Have you wondered; "Does God really care?"
“Does He listen when we pray - is He there?”
“Will war and suffering ever cease?”
“How can we find inner happiness and peace?”

Yes - Life may trouble you
Crime may trouble you
Questions trouble you as well they might.
If life troubles you - questions trouble you, try JW.org website.

The reasoning is clear - the answers are viable
They always adhere to God's word in the Bible

Yes - Life may trouble you
Doubt may trouble you
Questions trouble you as well they might.
If life troubles you - questions trouble you, try JW.org website.

Life may trouble you
Doubt may trouble you
So try JW.org website.

Try J W dot Org Website Try J W dot Org
Try J W dot Org Website Try J W dot Org
- Brendan Vincent Owens


Have you wondered about the meaning of life?
Is God to blame for our trouble and strife?
Do you have unanswered questions that make you sigh?
Do you ever wonder what happens when you die?

Yes - Life may trouble you
Bad news may trouble you
Questions trouble you as well they might.
If life troubles you - questions trouble you, try JW.org website.

Have you wondered; "Does God really care?"
“Does He listen when we pray - is He there?”
“Will war and suffering ever cease?”
“How can we find inner happiness and peace?”

Yes - Life may trouble you
Crime may trouble you
Questions trouble you as well they might.
If life troubles you - questions trouble you, try JW.org website.

The reasoning is clear - the answers are viable
They always adhere to God's word in the Bible

Yes - Life may trouble you
Doubt may trouble you
Questions trouble you as well they might.
If life troubles you - questions trouble you, try JW.org website.

Life may trouble you
Doubt may trouble you
So try JW.org website.

Try J W dot Org Website Try J W dot Org
Try J W dot Org Website Try J W dot Org
- Brendan Vincent Owens

Tumultuous beauty
Like raging waters
Falling over vast cliffs
Into basins of whirlpools

And billowing monoliths
Of dark clouds rushing past
All within a container
Of your human flesh

Twisted together an intertwined weave
Encircle, enfold, stretch to move in a sinuous manner

Coils support meandering threads, two twined in interlacing part
Interwoven and embracing curls cleave unto themselves

You are part of me

"Oh, Harry!  Harry is that you?"
The old lady calls to the young man passing by.

"I have looked for you everywhere, but could not find you.  
Why are they keeping me here, Harry?"

And when he pats her hand and bids her goodbye,
his heart is breaking;

For he wishes with all his being to have had her same recognition.

Two lives fusing
      as one
Intertwined
“Ieo vos tien foi tenes le moy,”-
“I hold your faith, hold mine.”

Here,
In this womby-tomby

Safety of my coverings
I begin to realize,

I don't want to remain unborn.

Ah.  There is so much uncertainty in life.
Jobs come and go. Kids grow up and leave.
Friendships form and fade,
As we all walk towards the grave.

Yet, you are here, now, and
I can count on your presence tomorrow, also.
When you are here, I know everything is in its right place.
At least at the end of day we will share this space.

My love and I would bask in the sun.
And we would make love out of doors.
We would, under the grape arbor.

Love’s knot loosened, my gossamer bow,
In a sea of light our love voyage would flow.
It would begin and end under the grape arbor.

There were stories about frangipani blossoms
and monsoon rains and teatime and English gardens,
the smell of mandarin oranges being pealed.

These beautiful, poetic reminiscences fill my soul
just as the humidity wraps around me, now,
as frog croaks filling the moist night air.

Looking back we tend to forget . . .

The lament of a maiden
Cried to the night sky
"Sweet lover,
I will pluck your heartstrings
And sing my call out to you
Hear that my heart is true:

May the mist carry
My words of love
Swiftly to you
On its vaporous hue
Causing it to arrive
With the morning dew

As I look out on my morn
My lonely heart is torn
If I could send you my arms
Across this large divide
I would embrace you
To be your guide

What starts as a mere mist
Will soon envelop you with
A thread-woven protective bag
Filled with this song.  So,
You can trace your way back
It is on its way to you

Let our love be the compass
That guides you home to me
Following the many lines
Of our love and life on our map
The lines of which can be seen
By only you and only me

Follow the line leads you straight
Across this distance home to me
Across these vast seas remember
Our life is more than a mist,
More than a mere song
Our love will continue on and on

The union of the sun and moon
Brief embrace, a kiss, departing too soon

A coming together, energy exchanged
Infusing us all, causing eloquent reframes

A phenomenal show eclipsing us all

My grief lies below the 6-foot mark.
Yet, my hope rises above that depth
Where there are many hands to hold.
I recall that hope is an anchor for the soul.
And then I come to understand and know
That I can endure almost anything.

Shark and Grizzly wander in and out
Nightmare-

More so than psychotic humans
Scary thought-

I live in the city

Drunk caresses, drunken skin,
Drinking in wanton pleasures;
Blood with fever drink on.

Voice island too far to hear-

Hands throw me down,
Take what is mine,  
Then stumble away.

It all began with a moon;
A waxing gibbous moon
Glistening in the sky;
Beauty staring back at me
Within my glassy eyes.
Anchored to the jutting rock
Which is just above the rise
Are my hope and dreams
Of sailing throughout time.
In a celestial sailboat with wings
Onward I would glide.
On through time and tide,
With flags and ribbons streaming,
Fluttering in the breeze, I slide
Into swirling lovely slipstreams
Ever onwards I am steaming
Way up high and dreaming
In a celestial sea vast and wide
If only in my mind!

Give me the words that tell you everything,
Let me start an echo against your heart;
Rhythmic words to bounce and return,
Caressing, Love, until you know.

How brief, this life, oft filled with pain
That those more worthy should die,
More worthy than me.  

And I live still.
"Hasta luego," until later, dear friend
And until the day we meet again.

"This whole neighborhood
Bad, Baby.  We broken.
Ever week somebody get shot,
Right here!"

We drove because we saw the top of the mountain covered with snow.
Our desire was to feel its beauty.  As we traveled up and up
The forest encapsulated us with its velvety-richness; and the sound,
My heart pounding and the cascading waterfalls, played the music of the Soul
In the forest.  On we drive up the narrow road until there is no coming down.

The sky is gray, today
Imprinted on its face
Marks like ancient text
That when read says
Behind this veil is hope

Vestigium, a Latin word meaning "footprint, trace."

Day hides behind a curtain of white,
So hides the night, the fading night.
The fog that descended before the light
Moves and curls around the lights brightly.
The earth is swallowing the memory of the sky.

With pressed-tight lips and dreary-eyed
I am staring into the obscure day, forming
As the fog leaves a footprint, a trace
On objects and roofs, then slyly drips down.
Its soft coolness covers me, as well.

Where is the context of things barely seen?
An ephemeral blanket closes in on us all.
Unsettling until the day is elucidating sight.
The lights all have halos like a holy thing.
At least it gives each one a certain clarification.

Still, the fog is closing in.

You seek to go,
up and up.
So, I let you decide.

You go your way,
up and up,
I just watch you,

And enjoy the ride.
Up and up
You strive to new heights.

Yellow scents the page
With many decades of age.
When gingerly pried open
The dry binding creaks.

Inside grows a faint mold
And it spreads in streaks
Across the brittle folds
Within the pages crease.

Cloudy wafts of odor, light
Hang buoyant in the air,
Like so much lost knowledge
Folded within its pages there.

Viola, with suddenness the cry,
"It is spring!" they all sang
In chorus oh so sweet.
They spread their wing
And as sweetly they sing
Opening wide their tiny beaks,
(Yes, some even stamped their feet!)
Singing loudly, for all the bright world,
"Spring has finally been reached!"

Sweetly you I remember
And with deep gratitude
Sweet, sweet, and true
You and your tune
Indebted memory
Trembling am I each time
Like the quiver of a bow
Memory, and I have come
To know that I
Must keep myself
In this precious refrain
Until impulses pass
To hold you once again
Though try as I might I,
Memories to constrain
I am unable to keep myself
From sweet remembering
You, again and again.

Greenery, like arms reaching out
Beckons creatures on wings
Amidst pink puffs of profuse petals
Cotton ball-like, full-blown blooms
Rows of roses in technicolor shades
Diaphaneity shimmers flash about
As powdery soft multicolored
Shapes like floating cut fabric flit
With momentary kisses given
As brief as a whisper or a shy peck
Fluttering beauty among beauty
Each to each, in a flurry of action
Breathlessly, we say, "Welcome, visitors!"

My days had gone by more quickly than a weaver’s shuttle,
And they came to an end without hope.
     - Until I looked back at the tapestry that had been woven.

A watchful cat sleeps
The small mouse skitters forward
The sly cat smiles knowingly
He soon will have his dinner

My words in writing will sit with you, and
They will not judge.  

They listen when no one else listens.
They will hear what you wanted them to say.

Then speak them to your heart.

Serene, float among green growth,
Buds desire to open, join the flotilla.
Gentle one, you are like the waterlily
Which grow across the surface,
The still surface of my pond.

The earth sighs, we breathe in
A common breath.
Breathe, exhale. Breath in,
Exhaled.

Humanity sighs, we fear
A common breath.
Vapor floats, spreads out,
Breathed.

We hold our common breath -

We fly,
Like birds,
Like butterflies,
Like angels.

And, what of time?
Drug along as it is
Around a spinning earth;

We fly,
Through space,
Though time,
Through lives.

Yes, what of time?
Bound by laws & perspectives
We fly in relativity.

Will the pluses outweigh the minuses?
The plus is a feather-light ephemeral thing.
A minus can weigh many, many tons.
Of the two to fall on you, choose which one,
Even though, my friend, it is already too late.

Man made his brow
Furrowed like a garden row.
Indeed,

He held his own perfectly
Like eyes looking heavenward
In night skies

Searching for hope.

I am not in love.  But I am not dead.  
And I can replay thoughts of us in my head.

I can remember the feel of it then.
O, how we loved in times lean and thin.

Our yesterdays can never be broken
With each sunrise comes something to hope in.

With you I could feel again.
I am not in love, now.  But I am not dead.

Winter brings sights that warm the heart,

As we observe with wit and patience,
Among its seasonal growing population
It is as if winter brings forth an entire nation
Of many species and their relations.

Take for example our feathered friends
Who busy themselves amidst their clans.
Bright feeders that are placed about extend
Needed food and give the birds a helping hand.

But, by their work, they retain their dignity;
As they go about their important activities.
Yes, among our lovely birds we see
Their busy lives, filled with such industry.

And, by these things we see their poetry.

In a forest, I hugged a tree
And this tree spoke to me.
It said I have branches above
And I have branches beneath.
I have leaves for photosynthesis,
Just look at my wondrous work.
I take in carbon to release oxygen,
I allow you to be able to breathe,
As I take sunlight into my leaves.
Take off your shoes.
Feel this life with your feet,
The process continues below.
Beneath your very feet
A highway for travel exists.
My roots, pushing through
The soil in hairy branches
Spreading out in all directions.
With chemical trails, they speak
To tell bacteria to wake up!
My sweet treat takes up, then
Share with our microbe friends.
Dear human, I want you to know
The phyla inside me and inside you
Are four and exactly the same.
Together we can feed all life.

We were beautiful once.
Beautiful mom, handsome dad.
Such beautiful children produced.

But what is the use when scattered
From pillar to post all around this earth
And cannot find our way back to our home.

Butterflies makes themselves beautiful
From an ugly worm inside a strange case.
They are always able to find their way home.

1st draft
1.
She was like a juicy red apple unpicked
He could never resist

Each time he rode by he'd bite that apple
Reaching way up high

He returned, again and again
Until the day when

Nothing was left but core.


Final draft
2.
She was like a juicy red apple unpicked
He could never resist

Each time he rode by he'd bite that apple
Although for him hung way up high

He returned, again and again
Until the day when

Nothing was left but the core.

There are weeds that exists only
In the minds of short-sighted ones
Who fails to see their beauty.