Monthly Archives: June 2012

S.O.S.

Posted on June 25, 2012 | 2 comments

Deepening scars crease
Searching my old face for peace
Expecting release

For a brand new body lease
Not closer to the deceased

© 2012 Michael Yost 06/25

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The Face of War

Posted on June 24, 2012 | 3 comments

 

From the peaks of areola mountains
And the lush vaginal valley’s depth
We cede to the wrist’s demanding time
The face fails to stop the sighs that leaped

Our face’s hands will not be interrupted
Only our memories coincide long
Drums closer and louder demands more
Cacophony won’t wash way our song

© 2012 Michael Yost 06/24

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Posted in Poetry

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How Good are the Oldies?

Posted on June 15, 2012 | 5 comments

Listening to music from my past
Parts of every song there you are
Clouding every thought brought forward
Oldies from years together still scar

I’m punished believing in magic
Nostalgia overcomes us all
So I’m bent down in reverie’s revenge
Overcome now, fighting to stand tall

If only we could celebrate again
Returning for us would help love rekindle
Tapping toes to the beat of used to be
Looking up at our mountain of life dwindled

Now listening to new memories
New loves have broken through once more
Because being gone as long as you were
Old songs shared are again slamming doors

© 2012 Michael Yost 06/15

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Posted in Poetry

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St George’s Shield

Posted on June 12, 2012 | 2 comments

Caught up with the kites around me
Winds taking us through the light blue skies
All for me to wonder is laid out below
The clouds billow and stretch before my eyes

Children dream with dragons flying up high
With St George’s shield deflecting their flames
Down drafts thrust the kites to the earth
The crosses crippled down with heaven’s blame

Parents stroke their children’s hair and blot tears
Hoping more time would make them all right
Burnt edges angry now from lightning
Crosses twisting wildly now in the night

Writing away with the wind and rain
Caught up as the twisting crosses fly
Parents and children scatter below
Dark clouds swirl; stretch angry threats from the sky

© 2012 Michael Yost 06/11

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Posted in Poetry

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Lined Distortion

Posted on June 10, 2012 | 6 comments

Who is that man in the mirror?
Is he the one I used to know?
The boy with brown curly hair and
Faded freckles. There’s the hazel eyes.

Is that all that can be seen now?
How ironic is that; green eyes?
The nose was broken then and now.
Now the faded memories come forth.

The pictures are long gone now.
I can only piece the puzzle and
The man in the mirror forgot.
Not remembering what was then.

© 2012 Michael Yost 06/10

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Taping the Glass

Posted on June 8, 2012 | 6 comments

You’re there again night after night
With accusations smiling delight
Pointed finger punch holes in my heart
Ensuring your wicked pleasure imparts

Your tears making believe fools me not
I can almost feel your warm clear snot
Seeing it doesn’t work, you start to grin
Ripping off your belt, whippings begin

Welts on your back rise laughing at me
Hoping it will bring me to my knees
Tonight, tomorrow and the next day
Reflection goes on making sure I pay

© 2012 Michael Yost 06/08

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Who Was He?

Posted on June 5, 2012 | 9 comments

Melancholic choices hangs from my crooked neck                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                 
Epitaphs, the past of pain reigned, forward to rest
Bled dry with falling tears crystallizing my cheeks
Fumbling and stumbling through the grave yard dare I seek                                                                                                                                                                                                              
 
The cost of our lives are the feelings left behind
You can’t reverse the rising sun only the blind
Shoring up the walls are not needed for six foot deep
And the ways to heaven and hell for some are steep

© 2012 Michael Yost 06/05          

9 Comments

Posted in Poetry

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