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Poems By Poet Alice Anne Gordon  10/22/2014 4:40:48 PM
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summer song

Summer song
summer long
summer sounds
of summer throng

summer light
summer night
summer feels
alive and bright

Floating breezes
fresh and free
gentle sunkissed
bumble bee
curling creatures
sleeping so
marching ants
they come and go
tall grass bends
in sun lit beams
medows shimmer
golden gleams
birds call out
their summer song
dawn to dusk
singing long
bubbling brooks
with silver waters
bluebells dance
like woodlands daughters
velvet moss
enfolds the boulder
tree stumps covered
shadied; colder
smile in their place
mischievious little dainty face

Summer song
summer long
summer sounds
of summer throng

summer light
summer night
summer feels
alive and bright
Alice Anne Gordon



The Cupboard Under The Stairs

Dark devours the hurt,
cradled under coats in the cusp of safety,
far from prying ears
a tear,
a whimper of self comfort,
in the company of a clicking meter.
The light slivers along the crack,
breaking into the darkness
of worn shoes and winter mittens.
Circumstances and surroundings uncomfortable.
How long to stay in the shadows?
Alice Anne Gordon



Advice to a schizophrenic...

I drift and dream between inventions
of worlds that are not there. Illusionary, intentions
bearing down an unreal calamity.

Always after, finding normality.
Uncontrolled avenues of imagination
terrified of the self imposed brutality,
confused by its duality,
addicted to finding an explanation.

Skewed archytypes form dimensions
unknown and unreal. Balanced attention
needed in the prevention
of fatality. Can't focus all on mentality,
advised to curb temptation.
Alice Anne Gordon



Fear of Gods, Fear of Death

Epicurus states our responsibility.
In all my meekness and volatility,
irresolute am I to appear.
But for him it was crystal clear
His thoughts on life and death.

Religion grasps at our own docility,
plays to the masses our susceptibilities.
He was, indeed, a pioneer.
It may just be strife and breath.

Is it beyond ignorant capabilities?
To pursue a fathomed possibility
that gods are just the last frontier
In modern man: imagineer.
No need for religion that brings hostility.
The atoms resume to be life and death.
Alice Anne Gordon

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Poems By Poet Alice Anne Gordon