Magazine Posts

As the sunset evolves
My sadness increases
Do I mourn for daylight?
Or do I fear the night?

All Copyright rights reserved: Calob 2020

Heading South.
Going bad.
Your the best
Thing I've had.

It's not too late,
I'll tell you so,
But it is hate,
Stealing the show.

Not hate for you
For this I know.
It is for fate,
Which takes your Soul.

There is no cure
For this terrible plight,
But it helps not
Through the dark night.

What can I do
To keep you now?
Bringing back the joy
For loving you.

"Let America be America again.
Let it be the dream it used to be.
Let America be the dream the dreamers dreamed
Let it be that great strong land of love
Where never kings connive nor tyrants scheme
That any man be crushed by one above"

Langston Hughes (1902 – 1967) American Poet, social activist, novelist, playwright, columnist.  More

Life was great.
Life was good.
Then I found
It wasn't understood.
For those who know
Life is not a play
Or a movie show
But a path forever
With nowhere to go.

“Before you know kindness as the deepest thing inside, / you must know sorrow as the other deepest thing.”  Read More

Little slug I do see
why are you eating
my lovely Pansy.

Your life was short
And you left me early
One day you were here
The next day you were gone
And life was never the same

Perhaps you thought
I would not remember
Lessons you taught me
About right and wrong
About love and respect

But I remember them all
Like it happened yesterday
They helped define me
And will be with me always
In my heart, right next to you

All Copyrights are reserved: Calob 2020

The sound of music
floats through the trees.
I hear your voice;
So sweetly you sing.
The melodious sound
of the music I hear,
reminds me of times
when I called you dear.
Will those years return
back to thee?
I suppose they will,
when you are with me.

Day slowly fades to black.
Moonless sky; Stars all bright,
on this, the darkest night.
Streaking comets, satellites too,
a most remarkable sight to view.

The shadows dance;
It is not a romance.
They are creatures
who jump and prance.
Rippling light, in the dark.
A different noise; a Lark?
I think not
was said to me.
Justice for all
and to be free.

Do you ever have thoughts
of things, all asunder,
when you hear the sound
of a clap of thunder?
I do and my mind starts to roam,
away from the troubles now,
away from the trouble at home.

Rain around me.
North and South.
No rain here,
least not now
but soon enough,
rain will abound,
beating at windows;
A rattling sound
of gutters full
and run off too,
as I await
to see you.