Poetic Seed
by Vincent Lamar Williams
Poetic Seed imparted
into humans’ hearts,
Sown into the mind of dirt-
grounds of thoughts.
More than mere words;
Seed that provoke
habitual memory
and engrafted into
the soul,
Springing out of
the soil of life
as manifested actions.
Wipe Your Tears America
by Vincent Lamar Williams
Wipe Your Tears America!
Your people have come
Back to you
Out of the many storms and squalls of barron travellings
Through the crown of the wave and the uttering of
the light wind
Over the chemical element of the west
And the dimension of the setting sun
the caps of the haughty mountains
and the grasslands soaked with light
Your people return to you
out of the many storms and squalls of barron travellings .
Wipe your tears America
Your people have drunk
From all sources
of mis-fortune
and of vain-glory
And now, once prodigal, we have come to ourselves
To the magnificence of your beauty
to the smell of your woodlands
to the attractions and grace of your waters
to the pureness of your skies
to the tender touch of your sun
Are the attraction at your mass leaves
Precious by the night’s moisture
Wipe your tears, America!
Your people have come back to you
our hands full of toys
and our spirits full of agape.
We come back to dress you
in our visions, dreams, and our hopes.
First Light of the Morning
by Vincent Lamar Williams
O birth of light
Where do you hide your colors at dusk
That calm breath, that fragrance
With which you make sweet the morning air?
O birth of light
What tongue do you use
To teach the feathered creatures to sing
Their morning songs
And small invertebrates to sound
The rhythm of an American heartbeat
O birth of light
Where do you discover the good will
To accelerate the morning traffic ahead,
Awaken the freezing drunkard
And send your stray and barking dogs
To herd robbers into their dens?
O birth of light
Whose calm breathe makes young men and women
Happy to have warm sheets
Enflames the vision of single ones
And carries informal noises
To excite the Hearts of those who are married?
I Use To Be
By Vincent Williams
Barren land, devoid of fruition
a desert, from a life of neglect
pleading for showers of rain.
Then you stormed over me, and I bloomed
and blossomed.
Stifled and longing for affection
wanting for connection, but never fulfilled
submerged in desire.
You blew your breath into my lungs,
and I discovered devotion.
Lost, searching for meaning, for purpose
a stranger to compassion and love’s labors
begging for peace.
Your guiding star appeared, to nurture me to shelter.
Now, I am an unknown creation – even to my own self
an enigma – full mirror,
reflecting on who – I used to be.
Grateful for the virtue you imparted in me.
The Space Between (Luke 16:25 & 26)
By Vincent Williams
The space between here
and now is narrow,
the space between what was
and what is – is far spent,
the space between love
and hate is division,
the space between the mountain top
and the valley is resilience,
the space between victory
and defeat is perseverance,
the space between heaven
and hell is a great gulf – fixed;
no one can travel from one place
to the other,
because of – the space between.
Springtime with Birds
By Vincent Williams
Springtime kicks the door open on winter –
first – with a loud knock,
Ushering itself in like
the alarm on a clock,
Birds appearing on the scene,
all kinds – in a large flock,
Wild geese flying high in a “V-shape”
distinguishing their stock,
The rooster starting the day off –
opening up with a loud “cock!”,
Pigeons roaming the sidewalks
like thugs hanging out on the block,
The mock-ing-bird mimicking other birds
with a sarcastic “mock”,
The blue jays’ white, black, and blue neck
looks like the rings at the top of a sock,
The gray doves’ coat of feathers resembles
the color of a normal rock,
Wild ducks evading the boardwalk
like they are the owners of the dock,
Roadrunners roaming the plains with
the endurance of a jock,
Eagles dominating sky territory –
putting the lower airways on lock,
Springtime’s season is limited –
it’s on the clock; “tick!-tock!”
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