Someone Is Shouting Jihad

Clear Parisian sky 
a sweet night 
to live and die 
without purpose
or validation of intent
but a twist of fate 
walking down 
the Champs Elysees 
and in my heart 
there is a love song 
and bright city lights
and what is that 
I heard you say 
not in a soft whisper 
but accusatory verbiage
and solitary sob
someone is shouting Jihad
you have a cause 
but you have no home 
you hide, linger and roam 
and wander in obscurity 
blanketed chatter code 
distant and detached
from the pulse 
of the universe 
you were born 
to cherish and to hold
loyal to a higher source 
fantasy wild illusion 
of what may be waiting 
for your brothers
on the other side
there is no solution
there is no pride
stained in blood and flesh 
your stairway to heaven
is a fiery inferno 
leading not to the purity 
of innocent virgins 
as you have been told
but as a venomous snake 
you will find only darkness 
not shadow or light 
nor colors bright 
but an abyss 
of nothingness 
we create what we are
someone is shouting Jihad... 

© 2015 TrilbyYates 

Slow flow...thoughts and photo's...

Bended Knee

Walking a path that is unfamiliar
Kicking stones at the crossroad and the
Crucifix faces places unknown with
Hands outstretched pointing the way
And while it never touches me
Each step wanders further from
That sanctuary for poets and martyrs known
And the questions of evolution and faith collide
With smoke of incense lace pattern’s rise
Over an alter of Saints and Sinners
That we trust naively with each step
Taking our chances with Hope as our Guardian Angel
Rosary beads fall gradually to the ground
Slipping from the grasp of a zealot's hands
Yet I continually take the time
To reflect on bended knees
With little to no anticipation
That my prayers will ever be heard …

********

First Yawn

First yawn of summer
A slight breeze
The air is warm and cloaked
In an early morning walk
I hear the surround sound
Of a bird’s song
As insects dance above
Blades of silky green
Threads spider webs
Weave across the lawn
While flowers tire of being in full bloom
After spring’s burst of joie de vivre
To the slow exit
Of another season
That comes around
Full circle over and over again...


Photo's - Rebecca @ work, Paris home for summer, Me sunset sailing, Ari in Paris, France, Me and Jerry NY apartment.

Poems - Pamela "Trilby" Yates

© 2008 Pamela Viscomi Yates