Absolute Abandon

Have you ever feared the blowing wind
And the shadows of the night;
Or felt the eerie tingling chill
Of a specter by your side.
In the darkness of these empty streets
I have heard the spirit screams,
just echoes of a lonely life
deep in the world of dreams.

They gave it all to gain the world,
to claim it for their own,
these selfish little impish souls
to whom the night belongs.
Cast down by love they never knew,
they search for Peace and Light;
only to find emptiness —
in the shadows of the night.

Death Came Visiting

By brian francis

It was so easy to watch them smile
while watching them growing up
Discovering life, making their way
Becoming what they will be
Making us laugh with glee and joy
their treasures they gathered just so
memories of days when they smiled
meanings lost behind unspoken words

It seemed so normal like any other day
A pat on the head a kiss on the cheek
who can remember the words we said
parting our ways and living our lives
the busyness of business filling the hours
Just humming along passing so fast
While they were hiding and cowering
in the clenches of fear and pure terror

Death came visiting the halls and danced
amid pleas for mercy and forgiveness
but death knows nothing but the harvest.
walking with purpose he chooses his prize
nothing can be done but to mourn and cry
to remember the smiles and the good times
living with regret and sorrow, embracing pain
counting the tears that never stop falling

Seasons Turn

by brian francis

When winter lays her bounty white
Across the grassy knolls and meadows
Frosty winds blowing a shivering gale
Drift the shallows and fences high
Its harrowing voice a banshee wail

Spring breathes a warming breath
Stirs the sleeping potential hidden
To rise up to stand and budding bloom
To tempt the bees to visit caressing
From flower to flower bride to groom

In summer the nests sing and chirp
The flowers disappearing lost to fruit
Weighing the limbs to sag from drupe
The cornucopia of nature’s stunning gifts
Constant in nature a recurring loop

The harvest, fall’s generous gathering
The reward of the farmer’s long days
lowering of the sun from high in the sky
Cold winds start to blow a whispering wail
A prelude to winter’s harrowing cry

Broken Wing

By brian francis

I watch the sun rise, and pass on overhead,
And I see the others flying south again.
I wish that I could go, but I’ll stay here instead,
my broken wing and I fighting against the wind.

Winter is coming; the leaves are turning brown,
the nights are getting cooler, and darkness lingers on.
Low clouds on the horizon are telltale of the storm.
Whispers beckon in the wind coming from the north.

I feel it as it touches me, the cold, cold hands of fate.
I know that I can’t get away, so I’ll lay here and wait.
While on wings far overhead, the others pass me by,
Oh, how I want to join them, but my broken wing can’t fly.

Cold rain falls upon my back; cold wind blows in my face.
Soon the numbness touches me, then soon the light will fade.
Then I will cast away this shell, its broken wing and all,
To start on a new journey, I will fly into the sun…

Midnight Bus

By brian francis

She caught the midnight bus to take her down the highway
The life that she’d been living had never been her own
She packed her bags and took a room down at the motel
She slipped away the way her father once had done
Danny had waited that first night for her returning
He would have chased her if only he had known
But by the morning a state line stood between them
And the wheels just kept on turning until she was gone

PBR and a shot of Walker had helped him pass the evenings
That sense of loneliness was tearing at his soul
He’d heard a rumor that she’d run away with a soldier
Moved to the Philippines and found happiness at last
Red or black don’t matter he just wanted another Walker
And they kept them coming until the money was all gone
He’d stumble home most nights assuming he could find it
But the bushes by the bank had often served as his home.

She’d come home again when her mother passed last winter.
She had found Danny standing at the bar just down the road
They talked about the time that had passed since she left him
She told him how rough times had often worn her to a nub
He could only look at her and remember why he loved her
The pain had faded and was lost as he looked into her eyes
As she walked away again his sorrows were at once upon him
Line them up he said as he felt the cleaving of his soul

Copyright ©2021 brian francis

Fractured

By brian francis

I have felt you cleaving great pieces from my being.
Leaving me to care for my wounds, whimpering alone,
Like to toss a canvass over me, to conceal my torture,
Until you again choose to sculpt me yet even more.
I am the rough image you coax perfection from within.
Always becoming what you desire – chiseled pieces fall away.
Fearing that a fatal flaw might be found deep within–
to be tossed away with the unwanted shards of my being.

Copyright ©2021 brian francis

America

by Brian Francis

Where is this place called America?
Where freedom rings and justice reigns.
Where equality shares a common hope
And compassion trains a steady hand
and lifts all tired souls like a tide

The Lady still stands by the doorway
lighting the way for those lost in darkness
beckoning with the promise of freedom
faithfully proclaiming Liberty for all

Where is this place they call America
the golden valleys and great forests
small patches of remembrance
promised to the future generations
snipped and carved into nonexistence
by the greedy business concerns
equal to a soul it was proclaimed

The giant must be sleeping again
waiting for some call to crisis
perhaps dreaming of its perfection
where America becomes itself
a pleasant dream

Where is this place called America
where can it be realized and when

Only within ones heart I am told
in the way we live our freedom
guaranteeing the same to all
The best that we praise – self sacrifice
giving the gift and demanding honor
flag draped caskets and caissons
and the discharge of rifles
of one, seven, seven, and six

There is the place called America
in our pausing to honor the flag
embracing the promise and creed
a willingness to share in the load
shh, quiet the giant is sleeping

Queen of Heaven

By brian francis

Asherah, long has your name been bound
Josiah’s rage defiled you, hid you in the dust
Unknown yet still they pray to you for gifts
Your name still hidden your power yet given

Asherah, Mother of all things seen from the heavens
Blesser of woman and the fertile seasons of love
Wife of devotion and protection of Him who is
Mother of creation’s toil, witness to the light

Asherah, Lady of the seas to some, also lost
Progenitor of all that is and too of all that isn’t
Drawn from the memories of stone we find you
On shards your name rings among the highest

Asherah, we when in passions embrace worship you
And strive to be worthy of your gifts for life
Asherah, I call out your name to witness your beauty
To one day hold your gift and honoring you raise it up

Copyright ©2020 brian francis

A Cry of Darkness

by brian francis

Freedom’s ring, a nefarious thing,
As seen by fanatical minds.

Freedom’s ring, seems flat indeed;
To a soul blinded by lies.

Jihad is cried.
Jihad is sworn.
Jihad against the free.

Unholy things must be done.
Stains must mark a soul.
Evil must be held embraced.
Evil must be the cry: jihad.
A truly unholy taste.

Creation’s Dance

By brian francis

In the morning’s early moments
When the sun begins to rise
Shadows start to coalesce
Beneath the purple skies
Birds begin their songs of love
A chorus as old as time
Breezes sway the mighty trees
As a poet seeks out rhyme

Words dance upon the tongue
In a graceful metered churn
Reflections of life’s embrace
the soul’s smoldering burn
wisps of life’s experiences
gleam within his eyes
as words are cast upon the page
in jumbled mixed up lines

The rhythm of these moments
Drift in eddied swirls
Like shifting sands creation brings
A string of precious pearls
Verses made with care and love
comedic or wise and sage
waiting there in black and white
For the turning of the page

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