Us

Love, hate that’s us.

Butterflies. Nausea

Heart pounding. Blood boiling

Twinkling eyes. Laser beams.

Love is never what it seems.

For me it has never been butterflies or rainbows or flowers or candy.

But heartache and tears and worries and fears.

Does true romance exist?

Maybe! Maybe not but what I have could never be bought or sold no matter the gold.

What we have is real.

 

Nature Calls Me…A Pastoral/ Nature Poem- #4

The beating of the falling rain

The rythm of the shore,

The gentle whispers of the winds

Calling me once more.

 

I hear the voice grow stronger

The longer that I stay

Beckoning me now,

to follow him this way.

 

HIS inspiration

is everywhere-

Flowering plant and tree.

Miracles take stem around me

As far as I can see.

 

“Life gives life and so it be”

Is HIS promise now to Me!

“Protect these things and let them grow!”

“And, one day you will come to know.”

“Life gives life and so it be”

Was HIS answer unto me.

Copyright 2015 by Ingrid Exner

When it Rains

I remain, listening. The slither of a snake,

the soft hiss of rain down tin, I hear it.

I taste it, metallic, sugar-sweet,

a memory from some distant time.

The love of a history, the kiss of a past.

My peace fulfilled, my heart light.

 

Meeting a commendable person in a life

meeting in a group adhering

good governance

for all humanity

enshrining life

in boundless and borderless

no meaning abhorring division or strife

emulating in all corners

though a wrecking ball at times

simply being oneself

emulating

a living legacy

indwelling spring of endless possibilities

imperfect person

still a wrecking ball at times

pleasant listening into

uncovering the self evolving

undergoing

over the board

a global treasure in my eyes

shining light not  blinding one

 

 

The Broken Man

There is a man
who site on top
who counts his coins
and lives alone.
He is not mean
he is just sad.

The one he loved
she ran away
and broke his heart.
The scarlet left
A broken man
without a care!

He is a friend
and yes I love
but he’s not mine
-he is unbound.
His heart is his
I’ve been friend zoned.

But still I’ll fight
I’ll stand by him
and let him cry.
His wound will heal
And soon he’ll find;
He’ll fall in love.

Until that day
I’ll stand as guard
I’ll be a shield
and give him strength
Until the day
He spreads his wings
and fly away.

The tower – Hour 4

Gleaming cubes

stacked one atop another,

each housing one body, one soul,

empty bodies, empty souls.

 

Each cube a home,

a white, gleaming box,

spare of furniture,

screens on all sides.

 

Each cube a prison,

each person a prisoner,

chained to screens,

soul sucking screens.

 

There is only inside

only these white gleaming walls,

there is no color, no smells,

no personal contact, no outside.

 

There is no connection,

when always connected,

no perspective, no understanding,

no meaning, no point.

 

Gleaming cubes,

stacked one atop another,

each cube a coffin,

housing one person, one soul.

 

 

 

 

Light Bends

The Black Void

Sucking up space

Light bends

Fear comes in waves

I am being pulled in

Who will feed the cat?

#4 Avalanche Blanche and Snowshoe

Some say she was born in a snow cave on Sunlight Peak in ’92.

Others say she came from Crestone Needle with her rabbit named Snowshoe.

Avalanche Blanche, Avalanche Blanche. When the snow mass shifts, she’ll be there for you.

 

Blanche has big wide feet like snowshoes and eyes that see through snow.

She carries thermal blankets and coffee – maybe a gallon or so.

Avalanche Blanche, Avalanche Blanche. When the snow mass shifts, she will always know.

 

She doesn’t need a shovel, cause Snowshoe digs like a whirlwind, you see.

Around his neck, Snowshoe carries a beacon, so help comes 1-2-3.

Avalanche Blanche, Avalanche Blanche. When the snow mass shifts, she’ll get you free.