my poetry

Creativity reached it's apex for me in my Creative Writing class which I attended online at Baker College. Some of the poems below were written for class and others just for my own personal enjoyment. I hope that you get the opportunity to read each one carefully and that you enjoy them as much as I do. Thanks for visiting my Poetry page.

The Search

The Code now broken, no easy mission
Little by little, tasks of attrition
Requirements needed fulfill the grand test
Langdon and Sophie complete their great quest

From the beginning it seemed very hard
To believe the words of an old canard
Looking past the words reveals the cold truth
Her grandfather died to protect her youth

They wondered in whom they could place their trust
So many questions in their minds were thrust
How could a lie last for two thousand years?
Too few knew the truth of a mother's fears

Secrets were hidden by Knights in a tomb
Guarded for centuries against their doom
Others had sought to remove the great threat
Those secrets revealed could cause a great debt

Mona Lisa's smile concealed wisdom's fame
As do those who keep still the Grail's true name
Intrepid are they who seek what's hidden
By conquerors is history written

First Impression

In contrast to the dull clay like runways
between the bases, the emerald gleam
of the lawn accented the diamond
with its little bump in the center.
This cathedral of sport was more deeply
stirring to the soul
than any anticipated imagining
could have been.
The impact of a ball on the bat
resonated through the vastness
of the enclosed park like a cannon
discharged in an auditorium.
The game unraveled like chess
on grass with the good guys
adding a digit to the L column.

The Final Game

The haze of the evening bent electric
With satisfaction at the impending doom
Of this Goliath of stadiums,
Its 50,000 plus seats filled and then some

Like ghosts of the past revisited on this last day
Of the season, late September calling
As so many years ago, with the idols
Of children in their ages past

Numbers, the endless numbers of this game
Imagined centuries ago by Saxons
Or perhaps Gauls as they fought
Back their Roman adversaries envisioned

And the parade of this gifted game, now
In its glory, made me tremble in thought
Of never seeing it again, live
As it was that day in the year 1999

Nor since has my shadow drifted
Among the seats of an eternal
Coliseum such as this was, yet
Again someday will I revisit the memory

Of the final game at that corner
That held so much mystery
For me as a child dreaming
Of one time staring down a pitcher

There have been a few questions from my readers on the meaning or purpose of the third stanza in this poem. While I like to ordinarily leave something for the reader to find purpose in I feel I should share where this image comes from and why I felt it necessary to add to this poem.

For those who are unaware, baseball is the descendent of a game that can be traced all the way back to northern Europe in the 5th century AD about the same time as the decline of the Roman Empire. My thoughts of baseball at that last game were of the history of the place and all of the great players that played there including Babe Ruth, Ted Williams, Hank Greenberg, who himself was a Tiger among others. Knowing as I do the history of the game not only from the 1800's but also of where the game originated I know that a game called creag was played in the dark ages in europe and that evolved into Cricket, and eventually rounders, baseball, softball etc.

Struggle

I am form, with thought
Outside the struggle I stand
It is everything

My first attempt at Haiku, it is perhaps not so good but does follow the structure of Haiku.

Storm in the Park

When the sky turned gray and dark
We grew nervous in the park
We then saw the lightning flash
Followed close by thunder's crash

As the rain began to pour
All were nervous even more
The wind picked up and blew hard
Then we lost most every card

As with most this storm moved on
The rain had stopped clouds were gone
The sun now bright lit the way
We again began to play

This poem was adopted from another poem I read and mostly rewritten by me. The idea is not mine originally but the rewrite was carefully done to create a more structured poem.

Silent Cheer

If I were to declare
that my wedding day

was the most excellent
day of my life, it would

be an understatement
of incredible magnitude.

The Indian summer waltzed
upon the air as the solemn

vows were honored.
Emotions pinnacled

upon an I do
with silent cheers and applause

in the presence of family and friends.

No More Days

The other night, while looking at my feet
I thought about walking in the winter wheat
Through the field by the house where I grew up
Taking it all in as if drinking from a cup

Kicking a football in a dream that night
Visions of college were not all that bright
For though I could kick I could never dream
I would play on a college football team

And yet as it were I fulfilled this dream
But it lasted not much longer than a scream
The year went by fast without time to spare
Though at the time I didn't much care

For other days I thought there would be
Looking back on that time how could I see
There were no more days of football to meet
This is what I thought of when I looked at my feet

I Hate, I Love

I hate my car when I drive to the bar

I hate my cat when it knocks over my bat

I hate my house when I see a mouse

I hate my phone when I'm all alone

I love my wife even when there is strife

I love my boy when he plays with his toys

I love my girls when they jump and twirl

I love my dog when I go for a jog

I hate my book because I can't cook

I love my chair when I sleep downstairs

I hate my luck and my broke down truck

I love the way the hate and the love
Have all been gifts to me
From above

Four Little Seasons

These thoughts are confusing as I lay here alone
Darkness, depression surround my hearts home
Longing for some light while holding my breath
Will you please save me before I stifle to death

Happiness is not just an anything away
It's harder to hold than most people say
Clinging to hope of much happier times
Keeps my heart beating and saying these rhymes

If you'd be so kind as to give me a call
I could tell you of winter, spring, summer, fall
The four little seasons are controlled by the fear
They won't come again until this time next year

Snowmen and ice are all that winter brings
Much happier will I be when it gives way to spring
Summer is the best time of year to play ball
Though depression sets in when it turns into fall

It is fall now and the leaves start to turn
Drifting down from their branches a lesson is learned
That skies will get cold and darker than gray
As the warmth and the sun both fade away

Clicker

Poet I'm not, but do me this favor
Listen to my rhyme, the rhythm savor
Enjoy the sweet and the bitter flavor
Don't turn the page, or think as I waver

Settle your thoughts and don't place any blame
The Weatherman's ice is simply a game
The Anchor is such only by his name
The Sportscaster is completely the same

Commercials I hate, I just cannot stand
Flip through the channels with remote in hand
Stop at a show about making a band?
I think NOT! but my dumb clicker is jammed

Again

my thoughts right now
are all of you
and how you were tonight
I had a long and tenuous day
at both my jobs
but now I'm home and
you're asleep and I can't
help but wonder if
you are dreaming of me
as I think about you
With all I do at work and play
I think we get lost
too much from each other
I want to find you
AGAIN!