Haiku 9

Veil of molten fog
Crying walls fall from the sky
Where have you gone love?


©Eusebeia Philos 2013

Stand By Me

Stand by me, the smoke house voice sang
Above the brown-noise blacktop
I thought of you, glorious you - Us
Tight and crisp, against the world

Above the brown-noise blacktop
Carried by liquid splashes of memories
Tight and crisp, against the world
Talon sharp, lovely assassin, you had my back

Carried by liquid splashes of memories
I though of you, glorious you - Us
Talon sharp, lovely assassin, you had my back
Stand by me, the smoke house voice sang


©Eusebeia Philos 2013

A three-stanza pantoum repeating whole lines.

Amaryllis

I always stir when the amaryllis blooms,

And the shepherdess collects her strays.


©Eusebeia Philos 2013

Poetry at Work 1

I do what I must
To make my work best
While my love of words
Must wait for a rest


©Eusebeia Philos 2013

Haiku for Karina

Pure girl August born
Hot sizzle slash, sun moves flash
On dawn of new morn

©Eusebeia Philos 2013

Madness Came Upon Me

Madness came upon me
while sitting on a park bench.
Lost in the nether drearies,
I heard a voice faintly familiar,
In an essentially strange form.
Unknown words in my thoughts,
words never heard, shockingly felt,
left impressions with no understanding.

I blinked on the park bench,
hoping to see the terrible voice
bouncing, accusing in my skull,
placing weight upon my heart.
Tight the band was drawn and
narrowly I turned inside to hide
the thought of what I heard
to be the madness come upon me.

It was a sullen angel that descended
from the burning clouds of late day
summer sky, to sit beside me on the bench,
giving black counsel in a breath that
formerly could entice me to heaven's gate.
Now, only was the grayish picture
left that sketched a story sadly told,
when madness came upon me
while sitting on a park bench.


©Eusebeia Philos 2013

Good In A New Way

Errors are rubbed with an eraser,
The paper never as white.
Stains on a shirt be blotted away,
The difference is ever so slight.
Dents bumped out with a hammer,
Dimpled but totally right.
All will be good in a new way,
Looser and never as tight.

All will be good in a new way,
Just not the same as before.
The pieces will sew to another,
Not smooth as when they tore.
The cracks'll glue back together,
Not like new as out of the store.
All will be good in a new way,
Just not the same as before.

©Eusebeia Philos 2013

Young Girl Waving

Day's first breath, a gift from the Creator.
Star-bright morn glows on the edge of blackness.
Young Girl and old star ignite a day to
life, both rising from beyond the dark night.

"Wave to me, wave to me," sings the Young Girl
to her father as he steps out the door.
She runs to the glass and parts the curtain
by half to watch Father come round the turn.

In the window she stares quietly out
through the panes at Father leaving, waving.
Motion in the lace, her hands speak giving,
eyes fixed on Father going for the day.

One last long wave before he disappears.
All's forever lost with no "goodbye" when
Young Girl views life from lower window panes.
Greetings to the Sun, farewell to Father.



©Eusebeia Philos 2012

Revelation

Interpret for me what God has spoken,
the clear, sublime whisper of sunrise bright.
My mind bends my heart, a place dark, broken,
incapable, blind to perfect insight.

Battered, bound to a strangled soul in death,
my life is forfeit through the biting curse
that pursues me, eating my very breath,
as hope eludes the good, becomes the worse.

Reserve me the morn when this pitiful,
lonesome thing - a man I cannot call it,
emerges, changes from the abysmal
through a delivery not decrepit.

Following the God-Man, the Grave-Walker,
his life becomes mine, a hidden transfer,
Father-arranged, he the great Soul-Stalker
who subtly overrules the Saboteur.

So that with new ears, open, I can hear,
So that with new eyes, open, I can see,
the Word made flesh, the God who cried a tear,
and fall, to kneel, groan, and cry out Glory!



©Eusebeia Philos 2012