Lonely Note

Travel has torn, parts I become,
Lonely hotels, wander as one
Bathe in excess, need to give back
Nothing but words, my burden attack, Scribble to paper, I pen a quick note, each city depart, a promise for hope, left on a desk, words to inspire, I wonder if found, or tossed to the fire


Feast Of November

New world we set course, lost in the moment, to fail is no option, for all is deemed hopeless –

Tossed by the waves,
Sickness surround me,
Our journey months waiting,
With will now resounding,

Left persecution,
In search of new home
Must learn to survive,
As we await the unknown,

The ones left behind,
What will become,
The land now before us,
Untamed and left young,

Eyes now alert,
As we reach upon shore,
To think I’m of few,
First to explore,

Time passes quickly,
Winter has fallen,
Many have passed,
Disease and exhaustion,

Food is now scarce,
Why have we come,
This land is foresaken,
Death won’t be long,

A miracle needed,
Time is of essence,
Suffering rampant,
Children to heaven,

Oh lord now be with me,
Hope it seems lost,
A native has come,
Surely war wont be long…..

Mother I write you,
Our voyage was made,
When all was begotten,
Our family was saved,

Indigenous people,
Showed us to farm,
A harsh land was woken,
A feast was then born,

Im thankful today,
As some have survived,
So giving they were,
With tears to our eyes

We feast now on roots,
Hunt and grow strong,
Thanksgiving was born,
By the hands of them all,

Father’s Rendition

Though alone for just now, my spirit take flight,

In the wings of the battle, I’m the birds of the light,

Though trials become many, hardships endured,

The strength, solidarity, comes to mind for a word,

Must be a strong father, who comfort and cuddle,

At night kiss your cheeks, say good nights, and I love you,

Stand tall a role model, my daughter, my world,

Will never see harm, yes your daddy’s little girl,

It is you that I live for, and wake up each day,

Push forward to triumph, never to stray,

I promise you now as I write on this page,

To always be here, through the rainiest days,

Now this is the bird, I speak of the light,

These but the words, that disturb me at night,

Though born to be free, oppression seems right,

I close my eyes slow, but the walls are still tight,

I channel my anger, bottle and ship it,

As the clouds of all black, engulf all my vision,

The darkness it falls, to the hearts of the soul,

Will I be remembered, in the end when I fall


One Day

Falling is felt, a large and dark hole,
Wake up to shaking and loss of control,
Though still I’m secure, awake in my bed, it’s as if I’m still falling, reverberates in my head.

This feeling it comes, it goes as it please, not sure of alertness, conscious or dreams, is this just a mark, a sign of duress, or is life simply slipping, toward my moments last breath.

One day will I not, come awake from the depth, One day will I not, tumble-down like the rest, For I know the feeling of falling most told, The spirit embodied, to have and behold.


Lost Traveler

Illumination of shadows reflect on a past, a time not forgotten, endured to outlast, a city of souls often lost and untold, travel silent at night, heart heavy now cold.

Though passage through fate left an emptiness state, a mind of regret, proved harder to break.

Now stuck in a wonder, all choices are felt, lived life as a rebel, left only to self, one contemplates pain, an excuse for the blame, live life for the moment, or travel in vein.