A town where the snow is black,
bringing coldness & fear.
Old remnants of tears held back
& times too hard to bear.
Woven from black sheets of rain,
fear covers in disarray.
Anguished & frozen with pain,
dark petals fall in dismay.
THE DEAD GAME SERIES
Yesterday, I met a famous photographer, Tony Vaccaro, who had photographed my brother in 1981. It was a year before my brother’s car accident. After two years in a coma, Neil passed. I’m more determined than ever to write a book on my brother’s life. Tony took photos of Presidents Kennedy, Obama, and Nixon. Famous stars like Sophia Lauren. Artists like Picasso and Georgia O’Keefe. And my brother, Neil Leist. Neil had just become the CEO and President of American Bakeries. He made his fortune in the commodities markets and was on his way to the top. The accident ended his dreams and mine.
This isn’t the photo taken by Tony Vaccaro. This photograph is the last one I have of my brother.
Abandoned Library (by katka.havlikova)
Abandoned books.
Knowledge lost.
Potential buried.
Animals scurry past
Discarded pages
That no one will read.
The wind sighs.
SING ME A SONG
Sing me a song.
Write a melody
Of times gone by
And moments lost in time.
Stroke the keys.
Massage the ivories.
Raise your voice high
So I can hear your words.
Words of hope and loss.
Sing them loud and clear.
Stories of faraway places
And times that are gone.
I close my eyes.
I can hear your words.
I see your fingers
Stroking the keys.
The words take flight.
They reverberate through time.
They leave your lips
To land on mine.
A sweet melody
To soothe my advancing years.
A pretty song To fill my empty heart.
The skyline is clear.
Buildings stand tall and bright.
Then a day arrives that
ruins every day to come.
Intruders invade our space
and destroy our twin towers.
Towers I love.
Towers where I had worked.
Goodbye, my precious towers.
Never again will our skyline be invaded.
It shall remain clear forever.
A solemn promise.
The castle sits in the woods,
its walls filled with memories.
Sounds of laughter and music
float in the still air.
Whisps of smoke hover
between the trees.
A soft shadow in the wind
settles beside me.
A tap on my shoulder.
A sigh in my ear.
I know who it is.
Goodbye, my love.
We’ll be together again soon.
pale-womannSource:
The storm approaches the shore.
Dampness coats the air.
Mist sprays against my face.
Strands of hair fly in the wind.
Thunder rumbles in the distance.
I feel it.
It’s almost here.
Will I lose myself to it?
Let it take me to its depths.
I spread my arms,
Lift my head high.
I let myself fall.
Arms pull me under.
Lips reach for mine.
I’m lost for eternity,
Lost to the rushing wind,
Prisoner of the ultimate despair,
Partner in pain and sorrow.
The choice is made and done.
I float away with my dear one.
Together we will forge a path
Through darkness and hell
To a heavenly place beyond.
I reach for you.
I can’t touch you.
You are gone.
I must accept this.
There’s no coming back.
No second chances.
CRY IF YOU WANT TO
In the dark of night
when others sleep,
I sit in the woods
and count my sheep.
My heart hangs heavy
as I think of you.
I refuse to cry
if I dream of you.
They have told me
to allow my tears to fall.
I shut my eyes
and fall asleep in a ball.
The wind whistles through the trees.
I open my eyes to a sight.
You sit on the grass facing me,
your eyes shining in the dim light.
“Cry if you want to,”
you whisper.
“But I don’t want to,”
I whisper.
The dawn lights the dark sky.
I yawn and stretch my limbs.
My eyes are bright and dry
since I’ve refused to cry.
