Lament of the Wizened Child

A poem on war.

Who will care for the children

when your war, when the fighting -is done?

Who will protect and deliver

when the mothers and fathers are gone?

Who ever cares about the children

when there’s call for blood in the air?

What good god would ever consider

a sacrificed child as a prayer?

Can you say that you care about innocence

while laughing at forgive and forget?

Is there not enough pity in those souls

to neglect the price of old dept?

Is there not enough room here for all of us?

Do we need so much power and space?

If you trust in your faith, let it be -warrior,

for your enemy mirrors your face.

Who will care for the children

when the last loving person is gone?

Then there will be no more children;

even your petty wars will be done.

Short Poem of the Night

Bedtime for weary souls I think. Been a hard day.
Enjoy and goodnight...

Too tired to sleep

and the fire burns.

In days to pass

much will happen, still

I wonder -

will it be worth the while?

My eyes see roads expand

and burn.

Too tired to compute.

this is heaven -

a comfy bed and a cover

for my weariness.

Short Goodnight Poem VII

It's okay to be small-

you'll grow up in a while.

It's all right to be scared,

but you don't have to worry.

I will be here, when shadows close.

I will be here, even if you don't see me.

I will be here, so you can sleep tight.

Nothing will hurt you tonight.

Short Goodnight Poem VI

Simmer down little one,

the heat is fleeting.

Take your bow,

like the sun,

as it shimmers

into night.

Let the puffs

of angels breaths

cool your sweaty brow.

Simmer down and go to sleep,

like the crimson heavens.

Short Goodnight Poem V

Flickering lights of softness,

flushed roses in a bed of down.

Troubles forgotten,

left behind.

Now we go to sleep.

A Short Poem for Graduation

Well, not my graduation obviously, but while I was working the shouts from the trucks full of happy students lured me away from analysis and numbers. Here's a poem on time. Bittersweetness and all.

Time trickles like rain behind the pane.

Bleary eyes measure each gain

and each loss on a rusty scale.

Cheery voices fill the distance

with memories of youth.

Old eyes wither, but first they glitter

with a smile for summer.

Short Goodnight Poem IV

Snuggle deep beneath the cover,

feel the warmth surrounding you.

Soon you will go safe in slumber

to meet fellow journeyers

and have the merriest adventures.

Feel the salt of weary sleep,

like drops of ocean you may keep,

singing lullabies of joy

and whispering of peace.