Sunset on an approaching spring,
a refuge lake of snow melt greeted fondly.
Shown, a quick taste of fire yet to come,
that which will heat the land and scorch the muck to dust.
But on this fine night,
hopeful fauna begins to bud lush green,
filled with tall iris, fanciful tulips and bashful daffodil;
I await in summation like the geese in this gaggle
swimming in the beauty of a sunset spring.
Softly she rose
from bulb to flower
scattered in the ground
of muck and mire;
beauty happened.
Delicate petals born of
sunshine and cool storm-backed
rains
she stands tall and grows strong.
She is spring in the storm and a
reminder that the world is reborn
anew.
An exquisite life cycle that produces
magnificent blossoms and a new feeling
of life continued.
Lay beneath it
Let it stretch your soul
Hear the angel sky speak
They will whisper your heart song
Oh sweet sky~
Photo Credit: MaryCaliendoPhoto2020
There is no denying its beauty
raw and unfiltered
treacherous and wild
Nature is a beast, fierce
untamed glamour
like diamonds glisten from
branches.
A rustic ice cold makeover
for the woodland thicket,
who waits for spring.
Photo Credit:
MaryCaliendoPhoto2019
Hello my name is Douglas R Brayton II creator of CNN CHAOSNEWSNETWORK I am an American Poet and writer and Satirist My work can be seen on: Instagram: douglasrbraytonii douglasrbrayton2 douglasrbrayton222 Facebook: Douglas R Brayton II Douglas Brayton II CNN CHAOSNEWSNETWORK If you would like to have your work published […]
Solemn remembrance
of flowers on graves
of a peoples whose service
in all wars and armed forces,
gave to a country strong with
observance of memorial; their lives.
On this decoration day,
a summer BBQ laced with cemeteries
and American flags near headstones
will honor and weep for those
who knew patriotism is yet a sacrifice
of the highest honor.
We will parade for you as we recall
the somber battles and comrades lost or maimed
in defense of our country.
A rebellion, a commemorative fight,
a tribute to the countless fallen and affected men and women
we gather as our freedom reigns.
The plight of Chicago
of shots ringing
night and in the day,
A sounding echo
of children never knowing but clinging
to the ease of play~
Natural smiles and laughter, where’d they go-
how about the morning birds singing?
Tomorrow must be better to know~
Because today greeted with a stinging-
when gun shots sound we drop low
who knows what they’ll be bringing.
There’s the plight of Chicago
and all the church bells are ringing.
The peace of September
falls upon the hearts
of those who’s greater family
is all of us.
To remember and to cherish
is to love without end.
From the warmth of the sun
to the dust of the storms,
may we forever rise.
My personal 911 tribute.
Summer sweat; back and neck
a mile of tents to go.
The crafts of souls creative,
foods of those homemade with hands organic~
~The city comes alive with festivals of sun rays~
Cheap pizza, lemonade slushies, pork chops on a stick
anyone? Can’t get enough, care to throw your wallet at
the dart board?
On a midway filled with elephant ear sized cotton candy
and moldy scented stuffed crap along with
the tribute bands and craft beers trying to be all fancy later~
~The city comes alive with festivals of sun rays~
Whirlwind of summer hotter than ever, get it
all at once because the window’s so short to not
enjoy a super soaker or waterslide, a sunburned nose and
a fire hydrant deluge on a burning side street~
~The city comes alive with festivals of sun rays~
Mother’s Sympathy
Mary had a little lamb
whose Gun toting causes a neighborhood
disparity~
honor thy mother on a weekend
for her; they shoot them up instead.
Buy some chocolates, balloons,
sympathy cards and candles
together, you’ll need to.
One stop shop, the city endures
soon the sun comes out to bring the next
day on pace for record breaking, the loss is
just heartbreaking~
Mother’s crying no time for celebration
the kid is going in the ground with nothing
but his dignity and jersey, surrounded by
the roses meant for her~
All in a Chicago minute; mother’s sympathy.
Brutal Streets
Trapped, gunned down; brutal streets
it’s even the kids now; elementary.
Just learning cursive and what is a noun….
it’s a person, place, and thing
like a nine year old in an alley shot with a gun.
Lured, captured and executed in a city cage
by the ruthless, the heartless, the true thug.
Brutal streets compete
one better than another
who’s hands more bloody?
Mortal wounds to the community
abrasive, aggressive, harsh
Brutal streets so unnecessary~
Hearts broke candles lit
another in the mortuary,
prayers in our churches, prayers in the street; vigil
Stunned, while silent tears fall for
another life loss so unbelievably.
Rebel Yell
Rebel Yell people,
The explosions are coming
fighting and searching for the peace man,
among the sand and granite castles; he hides.
Rebel Yell soldiers,
Where machine guns rattle, mortars and scud
patrols in backs of mini trucks with mounted
artillery move,
snipering through the neighborhoods.
With trails of blood droplets left
as missiles whizz past ears overhead.
Rubble lay among the dead.
Rebel yell fighter man,
front line shrapnel pierces.
A regime and then a tyrant gone
revelry smiles, tears and song.
Freedom feels and freedom sings.
Rebel yell, rebel.
Heroine Catches Them Again…
just passed the third year of high school
He, she, it
the spoon and to the moon and back
How long and how low do they go?
How fast does their heart beat
before they can’t see the world;
the one they may have dreamed of.
How long did they sleep before
dreams were nightmares?
The heated liquid injected
torments and scuttles life as they knew it
How long has their mother been crying
when heroine catches them again?
Train Men
City and country rails
run rickety and rusty all along
through groves of trees and up into
elevated areas between highrises with
sparkling windows
Locomotives burp out sounds of
ticking metal screeches
while conductors switch their tracks by
way of signal
Box cars filled with goods and freighters
filled with fuels of coal flammable
then it’s
nightfall and the arm goes down
crossing no one
horns have sounded
in the quiet zone blasted by the
Engineer
he nears with lanterns burning
they are train men on their run~
Spring Out The Window
While there’s spring out the window
there’s indifference brewing; a town in turmoil
there’s discontent, hopelessness and fear
it seeps on through cracks and crevices.
Curfews, mobilization of forces, injury
peace under attack, despair is in the air.
Destruction, lawlessness; violence is not a protest
Before anyone knows, it’s covering them; the people are blanketed
riots, national guard, on top of the breaking news
looting and fires with no reason~ this isn’t the Spring prom.
Letting down the neighborhood trashing out your home
All as the little ones look on and learn; precious innocence
stolen.
While there’s Spring out the window…
Life Debris
A ravaged land garbage strewn
down to a slab of concrete; houses gone
turbulent skies a mile high- a mile wide
its conduct disorderly, unstable and
thunderous, a boiling swirl of inclement
ferocity; a weather pattern scattered and
headed toward the town.
A shrill of sirens whirr and sound, the loudness causes the
dogs to wail and howl and hide under chairs and
beds. They huddle knowing full well something is
amiss. They ask for protection as we all huddle
in the corner with blankets and radios and phones in hand,
as a cyclone passes above our heads.
The damage it does in mere moments is to not believe,
it buries whole entire lives in a millisecond and while
some are completely unscathed and untouched without explanation
others go on to share an unspeakable loss. There are losses profound; like life.
Life is the thing that brought us to this place. Life is what it is that we
live, like kids on ball fields and moms at shopping malls and daters sharing
ice cream malts at the diner- this life until it’s not.
This tornado of damage has left the streets barren and children frightened
and the school has disappeared. But then life happens again. The community
comes together and spirits blend with heartfelt magnetism. And the mission is
to build and rebuild and to feed and feed again, to help remake the aforementioned
life.
The process begins when the paths of life debris is renewed.
Dealing Misfortune
He’s down on his luck
he’s penniless, but filled with pride
he’s waited for each sunrise then
he’s taken for a ride
he hasn’t the required papers
to be that official~
He’s waited for dreams of a second chance
debt plagued, drug used and illiterate
the easy street was dealing it;
changed his fortune
money crossing palms with
morality no issue~
Hard life street corner crooner
buys you a dime bag or chasing the dragon
looses thoughts can’t think straight
next fix when?
Losers lost finders keepers
always are the weepers~
Crack in the empty lot
underneath a street light
as the sirens pass him by
he lights the lighter…another try~
Bring the sunrise bring the rain
withdraw the needle
too much pain
sweat it out~ wait it out
perhaps this is a dealers doubt~
The cards are dealt
the game’s been played
the thunder’s coming
the trees have swayed~
Five card stud dealing misfortune~
Softly, she feigns sleep
no air, hot humid dog days
sweat drip, light hot breeze on toes
siren distant, dog bark near
clock tick tock tick tock
wishing for many dreams deep
****
Softly, she feigns sleep
too poor, always feeling sore
tossing turning, another tear
always wanting always needing
T.V. plays on bleeping infomercial blah…
wishing for many dreams deep
****
Softly, she feigns sleep
black hole suck you up
lottery loser red bull drinker
fast food eater, taillight busted
starry night, cloudy night, never ending sky
wishing for many dreams deep.
****
Violent Little Village in the City
He’s so young definitely scared
A child in a little village in the city
Threatened, beat and slashed
Pled left for dead dumped like garbage
Defiant; fight to survive huddled
A dangerous path with a
Violent alley allegiance
Tats, scat, ploy, toy and initiate
Horrendous action cold night; join in
Life nearly lost a commandment unfollowed
Continual sunrises daybreak finds
Street corner fills~ a neighborhood mentor
Begs friendship brings up God’s crown
Laughter while the pursuit of the next one
Flashes signs on this a black and gold day~
Rough tough tumble
breakneck hustle
car lights neon lights
Strobe light the mind……
Long list Short list
bills bills and credit denials
job interviews little white lies
Life tying knots super behind…..
Double trouble zero tolerance bubble
people talk and people babble
let it be let it free
Sun comes up again…..Another day in Paradise Decline~
Ripped jeans chains and things
and tats as sleeves
with piercing ears and nostrils too
tricolored hair teased and all messed up
but that’s the weekend
stay covered shy and nice he is
working suit and tie
says CEO and now you know
Reserve your judgment.
Suburban kids meet in alleys
or sometimes its in parks with pockets
filled with money
sad but elated the rush
they feel the rush they want
the rush that can’t stop pulling at them.
Wrapping around their brains
turning them into an ugly mush
easily addicting them in milliseconds
forcing them to choose
good clean happy lives
for one dependent and crazed.
Jane and John Doe wanted to go on a trip
the trip of a lifetime
they had each other to cling to
the two got into their car
and drove into sunset
on the heroine highway.
Blurred waves to the eye bounce off pavement
black, it smolders, it radiates and it burns
feet soles of the barefoot
sticky hot air don’t move
dogs looking for scraps
kids their hydrant open full blast.
Dangerous relief, even seeking hot breeze
with homemade fans in hands waving
on porches or wherever the shade may be
cool tall beers in plastic cups
distant grill cooks while BBQ waifs
smells across the alleys.
This making hungry belly’s growl
somehow the smell of sprinklers
and newly cut grass along with wet hairlines
convertible topped cars with radios blaring
here comes the ice cream man becoming pied piper
this makes summer in the city complete.
Snow
Dreary cold and grey
the skies as they fill with slush
falling into fields of brown not
yet dead.
Snow, it’s fierce at times and
as angelic as the child’s snow angel
a blanket of froth upon everything;
almost alive.
Each flake different like us people
shaped, round, lovely and soft
obtuse and even angular but always
ever so beautiful.
In the kaleidoscope of most things snow
it may peril us or it may soothe us
and may be the star in most pictures is merely
a nuisance on life’s highways.
Solo
He furrows his brow
at the loss of it all……
the loss of her has left his heart
open to all kinds of sores
the looks of love, the lapse of laughter
the emptiness inside.
His breakfast, lunch and dinner is for one
only his side of the bed is warm
he only answers to himself now
he only talks to himself now
He furrows his brow at the thought of it all……
The moon that shines in his window is only for him
the morning sunshine and the birds that sing so sweetly
he is sure are not just for him
but when he looks in the mirror he sees it all so solo.
He furrows his brow at the loss of it all……..
I saw you on the train today
So close yet so far
Too many conversations away as always
Fear struck to move closer, I accept never meeting you
This leaves me stinging and so sad
And always wondering why
But today somehow, it’s different I breathe deeply
I approach, you turn, and you’re so close now….
She waited for him in the garden
but when her tea went cold
she left to sow more seeds.
She waited on the chair, she waited with breeze in her hair
the sun still shone; it made her tears glisten
As she left to sow more seeds.
(micropoetry)
Hush Falls on the gritty city
Cold dew is on the grass now
in the glow of the lamplight; almost angelic
Until ‘morrow sunny grit begins again.
(Micropoetry)
The Barge
The eerie spotlight shows upon the river
Back and forth from side to side to check
For night time debris; possibly floating miles ahead
The barge slowly rumbles forward.
Keeping its pace of slothingly forward progress
This barge carries coal heaping full with blackness
Crystalizing glitzes in the moonlight
The barge slowly rumbles forward.
The metal floating crate, with its rusted turned parts
Burps out puffs of meandering oil waste
Its smell is thick with caustic overtones
The barge slowly rumbles forward.
The man who is at the helm is but a shadow
He breathes the fumes of old
He hears the bubbling and gurgling of the water below him
The barge slowly rumbles forward.
The vacuum power of this huge albatross sucks
And pulls the forgotten dingy under its rudder
Then spits it out wrung into pieces
The barge slowly rumbles forward.
The tempest of its route is but a narrow causeway
Its banks filled with dead fish and rocks and bent
Branches of trees that have witnessed the parade
Of …….
The barges slowly rumbling forward.
Eviction of Life
The eviction of life
Stands promptly at the curb
Where today passerby and neighbor bear witness
To the harsh reality of hard choices
That this collection of unloved or forgotten
Pieces of one’s hard work or devotion is
Now sifted and gathered for the parasitic rovers
To laboriously pick through as if this find
is something lost and then gained
Would fit them or their pockets snuggly or
Cause them the jackpot to be cashed in
The thoughts of that child without its bike causes
one to want to holler at the man running
Down the street with it until it is realized
that
Perhaps he has none and that it was he who
May have also suffered at the hands
Of the eviction of life.
City Sleeps With One Eye Open
The city sleeps with one eye open,
Fall like soldiers in a battle of ambush in the streets.
Children collateral; no discrimination in this place,
Shame, flows like blood on concrete grass.
Put your brain in the game; put the metal down.
The city sleeps with one eye open,
Feel. be. move. emulate and create.
Be the change, need the change stop the raw,
If you see it, you need to say it.
Silence is quiet but feel the flow,
The city sleeps with one eye open,
Ebb tide and demystify the fictional leaders of the street.
The spirit of a city that weeps for it’s innocence and then some,
Sirens, lights and neon bling evolve.
Bring the peace; the sobriety of the soul.
For the City that sleeps with one eye open…..
Spring’s at play..Cupid takes out his bow..arrows take flight..flowers tell lovers…it’s okay…to enjoy the sting.
Finches getting their load at the birdfeeder..changing colors…shining purple like I’ve never seen.
left over giant oak leaves… crumpled up… start to walk across the barren ground…as the mourning doves moan their midday song.
Fish swirl in the cold water… looking up for warmth and of course food…while the snakes make landings between the rocks.. and the turtles inch along
Peeking is the ghost-like moon ..who tells the dark to wait..as this night tries his new black clothes on.
The trees bending in the wind …with fingered branches holding up the sky…and winter left its mess of broken friends on the ground…a prize for the bugs.
The dumb squirrel digs in empty holes …the very ones he ate the nuts from last week…while the cottontail rabbits zig-zag in the woods.
The pungent odor takes the…
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