While the Angry Earth Growls Beneath my Feet

Auditory Visions as a youth, early morning dawn where sun greets this fiery lake, a day (or was it, days), of skipping school leading to a barren wilderness of pre-mature philosophical truths, while the angry earth growls beneath my feet, I walk on in later years upon the “black ice” of the day and risingContinue reading “While the Angry Earth Growls Beneath my Feet”

The Violinist

The concerto begins as she lifts her bow and resting her stringed instrument gently across her neck & shoulder. The notes begin slowly as one sweet note after another in an even tempo. By her lead others slowly discover their own way into the melody and create song within a beautiful harmony. No words areContinue reading “The Violinist”

Morning Tea brings a Rejoiceful Sound of Liberation

John G Evans c 2019 A tall glass of flavorful tea, memories of mine have always enriched me, made me stronger in the early morning, almost fall-like breeze. A few notes from I Am: The Tiny Mustard Seed: So, where is home? Home is where the dust cries in a foreign land, as we allContinue reading “Morning Tea brings a Rejoiceful Sound of Liberation”

Silver Love Under a Crescent Moon

O love! This contented night of a crescent moon lie sweetly b’ neath a drunken sky, and your hips of round succumb to the dark, the burn of love persuades me to dance naked with imparted lips, the slaughter of my soul…and finger-tips. The tilt of your head as the burn rushes through, the saltedContinue reading “Silver Love Under a Crescent Moon”

Villanelle of the Eastern Pond

John G Evans © 2019 Arise, dear child! Walk due East: I have come to greet you, Behold! Our open hearts shall meet. This eastern pond, My masterpiece I’ve spoken words here, created, anew Arise, dear child! Embrace this peace. Through wood, and hill I shall guide your feet Envision this pond filled with morningContinue reading “Villanelle of the Eastern Pond”

Desolation

Beyond my darkest desolation I have cried a thousand tears. Music has not entered my heart for decades of not hearing each note and, through each teary-eyed moment I have known but one bliss. And, through this devastating loss I have suffered a magnanimous pain. And yet, this god of Mercy has rendered his divineContinue reading “Desolation”

This Risque Night: A Villanelle

Thus, engraved of form within my soul, my words do flow – I shall write from memory days recalled in the absence of soul where each encounter does render its toll. This Risqué Night: A Villanelle John G Evans © 2016 I’ve lived this dark and risqué night, befallen and stroked by this erotic burnContinue reading “This Risque Night: A Villanelle”

Whitman: A Word Cloud Poem

John G Evans © 2019 Poetry  translate           experience life             cynical             lack of trust     injured             as a child            humanity factor          vision of hope             the still woods             naked in all my truths Plant you permanently within us        insatiate           minsters           sour death       To experience the translation of a poet, why, it makes sense. Though life,Continue reading “Whitman: A Word Cloud Poem”

Distant Shores in a Four-Bedroom House

Pacing – four walls I call home is not easy             Cutting a rug to distant shores I see a Samurai sword, a painting of a junk rig, an iron peacock, a woman warrior,             and a Hindu Holy man photographed by Joey L. I appear to enjoy the journey             It appeals to myContinue reading “Distant Shores in a Four-Bedroom House”

A Nostalgic Bruise

Here I am: Standing naked of earth and sand – To rid this dusty land of legacy and rotted out bones, bleed ashen words upon this page of virgin tones. My youth, thus, desecrated – imprudence awaits, a trust and an unknowing glance from a sleepy boy’s eyes, Why, is this a generational hindrance fromContinue reading “A Nostalgic Bruise”