by justme

Stillness thunders a powerful prose
Eyes they shudder, stutter and close.
Eight stone of muscle, meat and bone, weighs upon the bed, all alone.
A presence proved by a slightly sunken bed.
No movement now, for she, she is dead.

Our Father in heaven, who to hell are you?
Why was it her? What did she, an innocence do?
You killed the beauty before my eyes
Now the earth has lost, yet it’s only I,
who cries.

Invisible pain clamps my gut, rips my heart, dried mouth wide shut.
I’m over there across the room, my body stands, yet I see it’s gloom.
Mind it drifts as salty tears they creep, I enter a moments, a moments dreamy sleep.

Young perfect face and bright happy eyes, smiling lips and to my surprise,
she’s tall and elegant,
yet, shes so softly shy.

She won’t  look straight, head it flops
as she walks toward me, for me,
time it stops.
Behold the beauty before my eyes, we met by fate, to fulfil our lives.
Lips meet cheek, fingers entwine, my chest it displays, this girl is mine.

Then I knew…

This human meeting of this girl and a boy, was forged in the mountains, rivers and sky.
It was determined before the birth of the sun, it was an idea before the first river had run.
It’s etched on the surface and the core of the moon, the stars spell our names
they dance to our tune.

Then I return…

Eyes they open, she’s still dead, a silent body on a silent bed.
Memories still fill this holy place, beauty still fills her sleeping face.
I feel you woman, I sense you near, no answer comes, can you hear?
A girl leaves a man, a husband a wife.
Such is the way,
such is, my life.


Credits: Writing: ©justme; Image@ CatrinPhoto; All rights reserved

Fly her home

by justme

And so it is, the tears of man
Chrystal clear before time began
Touch the timeless of courser skin
Made not by her but as time begin.
Hollow eyes, magic drops, saddened he, and time it stops
Grey dried hair, the timeless still, daunted moment, only itself can fill.
Whispering air calls a breath, from babe to woman and now to death.
Stillness fills an unfulfillable time, a woman ends an endless rhyme
Silence fills an aching heart, timeless pain, nowhere to start.
Sinking bodies cry alone,
Gods angels call
Then they fly her home

Credits: Writing: ©justme; Image@ CatrinPhoto; All rights reserved


by justme

When I cry, I cry like you.
Like the cry of cry I seep like dew
The morning sun dries my tears
No trumpets sound, nobody cheers.When I cry, I cry with you
A man-like boy with mother’s rue
No man replace, no outward cost
A man child hiding, a pinpoint lost

If I go or if I stay.
Tomorrow’s just another day
The sun still rises, the people meet
Same old talk, same old street.

When I die, I die for you
For when I go If I were true
I must take you with me too

Credits: poem ©  justme; Image: © CatrinPhoto

The Wind

By justme

Silence and stillness fills the air
The things of earth, prepare.
Expectancy the hidden chant as bombing single drops of cloud
Signals and lays the path like a blackened, darkening shroud.
Enveloping the land like an umbrella shading the sun.
Day becomes night, no escape the moment,
the wind it shall come.

Stampeding howl roars through resistant fighting trees
Which bend like the archers bow before it frees,
Yet long for a prouder straighter stance do they.
Yet like the worshipped before their idol, they humbly pray,
in respect of a greater, more powerful one,
than they.

Shivering, flickering leaves rattle and quiver in it’s ferocious wake.
Their tiny stems grip their stronger brother branch, and quake.
He shudders, whips and bends but holds firm the master trunk.
Who’s very sturdiness and resistance, could leave them all defunct.

Some leaves succumb the battering remorseless thrash
and go hurtling and swirling and diving to finally, inevitably, crash
and await tomorrow a rotting silent death.
In rumps and stench of their withering, soggy, brothers breath,
Tempting the sliming worms to draw them to a darkened eerie place, far from the elevated godly heights where they danced a  happy song,
with grace.

Others move and twist and turn upon the winds request
They fight that the sun tomorrow may shine once again and heat their gorging face, they fight that they may live, to be their best.
They fight so they might give.
It is a futile fight,
The fight to live.

For all shall take and all shall give, as all shall return that which has been taken, that they might live.
And to the earth, the ground, the dirt, shall all things be drawn,
To wait a moments breath,
until  the moment of a new day, a brighter,
better dawn
When all things shall once more,

live again.

Credits: Poem © justme; Image © Catrinphoto


Listen with ear phones, click “HD” in the upper right hand corner 
of the video and watch in full size for best experience.
(If watched  in small size clic in the black space on the sides to 
remove the frames in the video.) 

I am that bird

Read by the author        Music: Sad piano Original composition by Michael Ortega

Please click “HD” in the upper right hand corner of the video for best viewing quality

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That luscious rose

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The angel

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Eyes closed

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Credit: poem @ justme, Image: © Catrinphoto; All rights reserved

Death and transformation

Oh tainted thing, you were once the soft and luscious leaf of green, gorging temptress sitting high upon the pedestal of tree. You held a high and mighty place and looked out above the lowly things. Yet remember you flew and fled and lie upon the ground, the hardened ground were the least be found. No more the luscious green, your body wraps and curls as the brown and tainted thing spreads your self, you denied it’s truth. Soon the earth shall claim you.

….and as the traveller passes he looks up to the sky and to the dancing leaves upon the tree and he says to the heavens ‘teach me, tell me of the truth’ yet know not he the ground he stands on is but holy ground. The answers he searches are trembling beneath his feet…. whispering “once upon a day did I dance upon a tree, once upon a morn I watched and fed upon the sun, once upon a morn I looked out to the world and longed only to be a little bit higher, a little bit closer to the source, yet now I lay upon the earth, that which stands the tree, that which holds the water of life and because now I know must I be hid, must I be taken for fear a man shall know and rip up the tree, for it is only when a thing lays silently within the arms of the earth shall it understand, shall it see, shall it truly dance”.

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What is death?
Credits: Writing ©justme; Image ©Catrinphoto; All rights reserved;