David Whalen Poems

How will it end?
With the smell of brimstone?

Will it end in great gatherings,
...

Before our very eyes…

Like helium balloons
Ideas imbued with passion rise
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“There’s a kind of music
that lives there”
A little old lady with
Alzheimer’s would declare
...

Same old clothes, different style
Same old hair with a different do
Same but different all the while
Same old substance, through and through
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I’m always where… I’m sposed to be
Always doin’ what I’m sposed to be doin’

Never lookin’ where… I shouldn’t be lookin
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For today..
Chase the shadows
away
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From deep within…
The Heart of summer,
Fairy lanterns from…
within and over
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Inspiration…
Elusive creature…yet
Only when pursued
Too arduously
...

If you could stop two young boys
From dying today
Would you?
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Lonely words, in need of some usage
Perfectly good, yet almost unknown
Let’s take a quick look in my dictionary book
Let’s not leave these words all alone
...