A bad day
iaian7 » blog » poetry John Einselen, 20.07.06a bad day,
maybe a year.
as the trees bud,
and bloom,
and leaves grow
dark and green.
I find the longer days,
are feeling short.
and the eyes are hanging dull.
and as the traffic flows,
and ebbs and weaves.
and coats are welcomed,
yet again.
a bad day,
maybe a year.
oh the trials, and woes, and pains.
surely a person grows,
digs deep.
their will strengthened,
and arms holding fast.
a bad day,
perhaps just in my head,
and so, never ending.
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To choose this life
iaian7 » blog » poetry John Einselen, 14.07.06To choose this life,
of loneliness.
Forgotten, or alone.
What must one do?
The choices made,
the attitude applied.
preparing for a role.
In the theater,
acting out a tragedy.
With the actor as only audience.
What must one do?
How to alienate,
remove, and seclude.
to choose this life…
What must one do?
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Sit down
iaian7 » blog » poetry John Einselen, 14.07.06go there.
go here, and come.
sit down.
let a person sigh.
you’ve felt.
you’ve lost, and now.
the insides.
tied up, and sad.
no option.
no out, but through.
though darkness.
maybe an end.
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Blue jean V's
iaian7 » blog » poetry John Einselen, 4.07.06we sit down,
and our legs spread out.
making blue jean V’s,
on the gray wooden boards.
maybe we laugh,
or perhaps just sigh.
watching the clouds,
and dust from distant cars.
on dark blue plates,
and covered in butter.
we’d eat corn on the cob,
so crisp, and fresh, and warm.
sitting on the porch,
with our legs spread out.
blue jean V’s,
on the gray wooden boards.
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Too dense
iaian7 » blog » poetry John Einselen, 3.03.06far too dense to breath,
too thin to actually hold…
this feeling you leave in here
too opaque to see through,
too transparent to perceive,
the effect you have on me
it’s too dry to drink,
but wafts from room to room…
this air of leavingness
all too impenetrable
but too waifish to believe,
the thoughts that spin
too naive,
too scared,
I’ll hide.
too long to tell,
maybe it’s gone,
but I fear to look out
from my little corner
tonight, I’ll block it out,
tomorrow you’ll be back,
and then we’ll start again
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To the last
iaian7 » blog » poetry John Einselen, 15.01.06to the last glimmer of dawn,
as the sea clouds roll
and nearing thunder darkens angry waves
to the parting of the hands,
as wind fills our eyes with tears
and the grass sings final requiem
to the sleet and hail,
as a drumming, pounding, farewell drum
and those along the shore seek shelter
our eyes see naught,
as rain tears way
and the passage makes complete
the journey you must make
far away from home,
but never from those hearts,
lying broken in the sand
and thus our eyes see naught,
but as a mirror’s dim reflect,
the hint of life glints off the water
and we may glimpse
eternity beyond
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July in January
iaian7 » blog » poetry John Einselen, 13.01.06till the last shimmer, when the fireworks at last fade away…
I will see… the world reflected in your eyes.
Drifting in the wind, and brightly coloured tendrils…
I can feel… the sky in your breath.
So as the notes of solemn patriotic strains forget the night…
Embrace the life, embracing me.
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I think of you
iaian7 » blog » poetry John Einselen, 21.10.05when the rain falls down
if the leaves are blowing in the wind
when the moon shines bright
and my breath glows frozen in the night
I think of you
when the river runs clear
if the grass is wet with dew and footprints clearly show
when the heart of nature lifts
and on the dirty path is writ the path of people past
I think of you
and as the years progress
when the anger is softened with quietness
if the comfort of home is enough
when the sigh of wind is merely an echo of someone else’s
I’ll think of you with love
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Fireflies
iaian7 » blog » poetry John Einselen, 26.08.05The fireflies are alive,
flashing from the branches of these sycamores.
Floating above the fields of grass,
in languages of silence,
of melancholy beauty…
delicate.
impossible to grasp,
improbable to hold,
entrancing to merely feel.
(unfinished)
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Spring at school
iaian7 » blog » poetry John Einselen, 17.05.05tiredness reeks from the loosely hanging eyelids.
the wear of odoriferous throngs.
spring. loneliness.