| Joshua Griffin Poetry 1 |
| Swiss Poem Account Collection |
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| A Pauper’s Grave Lo and behold this grand scene: Once a boy, born to rags, traveled abroad these lonely streets-- through the dank pall of blanketed vision, through the chill of winter days and scorching summer nights. The boy did traverse and emerge a man before the eyes of sainted pilgrimage before the hands of invited bliss. This boy, from holy rags, to oil paint framed canvas, taught the mass ignorant-- taught of ambition and sadness to the minds of youth to the ears of the old and grey during days spent alone, during nights spent wandering-- passed future transgressions passed wanting hands of greed. Lying now, in a pauper's grave after death after royal ceremony, this boy teaches still as mourning on-lookers turn mindsight to life and cast eyes toward the sky. August 2001 |
| addiction lighter quick flick flint rock spark spurts liquid flames here there in air everywhere but on it-- unlit smoke in hand waiting fate tempting destiny here beside my hand here beside my mind. shaking hand, quiver with vice quiver with TEMPTATION-- fingers tight closed over matchbook thoughts distracting inevitable strike distracting inevitable breath. here in my hand, against life line and scar, stands freedom stands escape stands addiction. August 2001 |
| To Mother on my birthday Through life, one hand guides through life, one voice will lead - - this voice, this hand shine bright and touch light over the hardships of life, through the fights and hugs. Through life, one hand, one voice, one person smiles at mistakes, smiles with unconditional love at children writing on walls, at broken glass on the floor, at yells and screams. One hand, one voice-- the hand of a guide, the voice of reason and love-- provide hope, provide stability, provide nourishment. To mother on my birthday, memories, sweet and happy, rise above the rest. To you, Mother, on my birthday - - twenty years have come so soon twenty years have made me who I am. One hand, one voice, one guide pushed me through life with love held me close when I cried, forgave my mistakes forgave my words handed me life, handed me encouragment. One voice, one hand guided me through misery and brought bags of kisses, and brought a smile over sadness and made me realize how much love matters. |
| Tribute to my Grandfather it's 6am, chicago time, thoughts turn to the rocky waters-- the current that lies ahead, all the while courage trasforms to mush under shaky-kneed sob for the love of a man. So simple and natural, this feeling, so deep and ingrained, an animal instict for survival. on this day, my grandfather's day, my bittersweet home coming party awaits in hospital bed, behind a family's mournful tears. A father to me in thoughts-- a patriach fallen years ago to weak heart and will to live lessen. Lesson in life today, a rite of passage takes its toll on us, the reason for my journey. Oh GOD, heed my thoughts hear them now! "Take him quick Take him painless" Oh GOD, life without will hurt life without seems not true, day by day as it doles out the cycle of life-- |
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| Poem Account Poets wylde Barry Fitton Craig Moore panta rhei Paul Kren Orphicgoblin Jota judih |
| comments: judih@hotmail.com |