Yessiamto's Poetry
 

Letting Go

Last night as I tossed and
turned in my bed I began
to dream. I envisioned myself
going to a bridge. A bridge that
stretched across a great sea.
I saw myself dropping
flower pedals into the water.
Time after time, day after day
I would return to the bridge.
I would drop one pedal into
the water and watch.
Watch as the tide washed
it away. Carrying it further and
further out on the cold waters.
I stood still and all alone.
Watching, waiting, hoping to
see something different.
But everyday the results
where the same. Finally I
decided I no longer wanted
to carryaround that old flower.
That flower that never
seemed to run out of pedals.
I took that old flower
and cast it on the sea.
This time I did not wait
to see what would happen.
I don't know if the tide washed
it ashore or carried it out to sea.
But what I do know is finally I was free.
My heart was finally free.
 
 
 

On that day

On that day I'm dying,
I'll make my way to darkness
and spend some time admiring
the treasures in my heart.

There I'll find your portrait,
adorning every wall,
your fragrance in the flowers,
your voice in each bird call.

When leaving these surroundings,
the last things I will see,
now line the walls of my heart
while life is good to me.
 

Fujiyama

Jillian's life was a jigsaw.
The beautiful Fujiyama
Held together with
promises galore.
Alas, in the hands of
Luciana, In a comedy
of errors,
The pieces are now
strewn across the floor.

Social workers rake
them together,
They chuck them in
a bucket.
Thousands of pieces,
all out of order,
once a lovely picture,
I long to see.
But I don't know
where to start.
Only Jill knows
Mount Fuji.

She must sit quietly
now and work away at
the edges.  Piece by piece
the corners form.
Then I can kneel
beside her and help from
the bucket this person
who wants to rebuild.
 
 

Cardboard Charlies

The target changed from a bag of
barley to a moving wooden crate,
then into cardboard Charlie,
we all must learn to hate.
I bayoneted Charlie, to
the sound of an awful name
the sergeant gave me yelling out,
show anger or feel shame.

Then set upon the wet canteen,
this new inhuman breed,
increase the twisted madness
with alcohol and weed.
No time to sleep, the chopper
took us out to fields of rice
to constant fear of contact,
mosquitoes heat and lice.

Then when I did meet Charlie,
he was just a boy we found.
The blood was deep enough to
splash before he hit the ground.
At sixty-two I see him in
his twisted form each night
on bloodied bits of cardboard
from dark til morning light.
 
 

Love is timeless

When we were young we came here
to throw down wine and beer.
There was music in our laughter
and clumsiness in love.

Way back then, I do recall,
contented souls in rocking chairs,
kicking back with cups of tea,
reflecting in the sun.

So now I sit here searching
for the bottom of my cup.
The youngsters come here laughing.
Their music wakes me up.

Those joyful voices singing,
bring back to me your smile.
They help me rock contentedly
In the timeless embrace of your love.
 
 

The first step

I have no worthwhile job now.
or anything that matters.
Just like my reputation,
my life is now in tatters.

Alcohol, my only friend,
deadens all this pain.
It keeps my soul together
while the world thinks I'm insane.

There is no partner living here.
My neighbor hasn't smiled.
My mother doesn't come and stay.
They took away my child.

The drink is holding on to me
as I face each awful day.
It makes me laugh at nothing,
as I throw my life away.
 
 

The Cage

We sit
Quite bewildered
By the need to be caged.
Is it the world I cannot trust
Or me?
How long
Must this pain last?
Anxiety routinely
Drives me shaking to that phantom
Relief.
Looking
Out my window
A friend, once far too sick
To catch this ride to sanity,
Looks well.
Later,
Through that window,
I'm dancing with my friend.
The ladder that will take me there
Fits one.

Yessiamto 2002