Edmund V. Strolis

Edmund V. Strolis Poems

They all wash over me with pitying eyes, they think that I don't see.
Yet they are only crude jagged faces on the canvas of my dreams.
Empty their wishes float, as they seem to pray my safe return.
How can they know the fever that within this prison burns.

Bull elephant is what they call you
Big name, big beast
They do not do you justice
What do you call yourself?

Sometimes I feel at home in darkness
Painted black to quote the Stones
Snarling cynic dismissive and strong
Scoffing at the foolish dreamers

Flip the pillow to the cool side, kick the blanket from the bed.

Why sleep to chase a dream, he chose to hold his prize instead.

White orchids, delicately laced by an invisible brush
A red and pink hue traced upon petals unblemished
Waxen white glowing in heavenly splendorous form
Frozen in beauty, timeless in their vivid perfection

Two days of rain could not dampen the spirit
Alone in a cabin as the pelting continued
With plenty of firewood from sunnier days
Split and set aside for this rainy day

I slip away from the joyful crowd
Sun dresses, moonlight and wedding vows
Give me strength to play this part
A practiced smile to mask my heart.

A friend to be there within the bottomless hour
Someone to be there to witness the madness
Of the pendulum severing reality
Someone to be there when the train wheels lock

The sea was in a foul mood, slamming hard and spraying mightily.
The walls of white battered and tossed the cargo of fools.
No enemy have I so vile, as to wish him aboard that vessel.
Nor have I, I hope, one that should wish me this watery purgatory.

Where my feet will find me.
A corner for my boots to stand.
That's home enough for me.
So long as your shoes lay nearby.

Man could he laugh, you always knew when he was in a room.
No matter how large.
At a wedding over a band roaring along and pleasing the groom.
He was supercharged.

Your little patio, alone with time and fate
How fragile you seemed on that bench
Staring at the traffic, everyone in a hurry
No time to bring a smile or a story

She will always wash her tiny feet in a pail by the door
Crystal waters instantly turn to muddy chocolate swirls
A bucket of thrilling delight from the wells icey surprise
Contrasting with her hot sweaty mess of tangled wild hair

Scatter birdseed like wishes
Spread good thoughts all around
Some will sprout into reality

Just once more
I want to tear down that highway
Let the freedom of the road
Deliver me home

Wandering souls under this canopy of heaven
Our passion play opens with a new curtain each morning
To a story of a day that has already been written
But before the curtain falls like a billion times before

He had traded in convenience
For a dented tin coffee cup
Sturdy and big enough for stew
River washed or snow scrubbed

In my orbit where I dwell I sometimes cross your path
Your satellites of humor, good will and joyfulness
Sing within my sphere in harmonic electric wonder
Listen to the music of one or countless others

Big things have small beginnings
Best to stay alert
If your mind is of the rare kind
Unhindered by convention

How sad that such things exist
I would rather never write
A lament for the lost souls
Or a tribute to bravery

Edmund V. Strolis Biography

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The Best Poem Of Edmund V. Strolis

Edgar Allan Poe

They all wash over me with pitying eyes, they think that I don't see.
Yet they are only crude jagged faces on the canvas of my dreams.
Empty their wishes float, as they seem to pray my safe return.
How can they know the fever that within this prison burns.

For what is this sinister slow waltz to hell without my sweet Lenore?
My wish which any fool can guess, I must be with her once more.
How my heels find their way to that vacant tomb beyond the bedroom door.
Now I curse the promise of that desperate hour! not to join my love Lenore.

Hooves over meadows, we graced the silent clearings, along our secret path.
We were enough to make the Robins blush as we weaved a bed of wild grass.
Hers was the hair that called for my touch to caress in silent bliss.
Tell me she waits on the shore with my steed, our escape and her heavenly kiss!

Will the sea ever whisper a message or the breeze from beyond sigh my name?
Was the promise she demanded just a frantic dream, some madman's twisted game.
No, dear God she will never grace this door! yet I will find my bride Lenore.

I scream to still the sounds of the devils breath hissing never-nevermore.

No Lenore, my sweet and graceful bride, we on distant dunes will ride.

Along that forever summer shore. my soul will search forever-evermore.

Edmund V. Strolis Comments

Sarah Persson 12 August 2018

This man Edmund Strolis is a true modern day poet genius. I dont think he knows just how good he is. His intellect and humour are such a delight. I am awestruck by the how he turns the things we take for granted every day and turns them into true works of art. His insight is the true genius and i am honoured to have crossed his path and been able to share in his thoughts and that oh so clever imagination. Edmund is a true gem of a poet, absolutely brilliant in mind and soul.

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Norah Tunney 07 April 2017

I wish I could write like Edmond Strolis original, imaginative and brilliant he is one of my favorite poets on PH. Poems such as seeds of wonderment a tin cup lifeor a pair of shoes open a door into the heartbreaking beauty of the most simple things. His sense of rhyme does not constrict it opens a wide space which is a rare gift. He is a deep thinker, a mystic, an amazing poet who draws you in to the essence of things. I agree with Theodora he is a delight to read.

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Theodora Onken 09 May 2016

Edmund, now i see what i have been missing...love your stories...and yes, your intelligence. You have the makings of a brilliant modern day poet. This site is very large and it tends to swallow many up but have been digging around and am glad because i found you! You are such a delight to read.

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Terry Dawson 14 February 2016

Here is a poet and storyteller, both, who unfolds his tales with a marvelous clarity of view and a boldness of stroke that carries the reader along enraptured! Full of freshness and novelty; Great work Edmund!

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Pamela Sinicrope 19 November 2015

Edmund is a poet with equal doses heart, intelligence, and passion. He conveys all of these characteristics in his writing, which spans a spectrum including, but not limited to: experimentation with language and imagery, childhood memories, love and nature, and AMAZING character portraits. Some of my favorites are his writings about Teddy Roosevelt, his mother, and what originally pulled me in: the cool side of the pillow, a tribute to a boyhood summer. I am a fan of Edmund and his work. BRAVO EDMUND!

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