James Papastamos Poems

A cup of coffee for us all
this morning sun to brew its taste
We wave our hats, salute its wind
the steam now rising, we fan its haste
...

It rained on me one lonely eve
the skies were blue, her skies as grey;
With drops of rain to dry my soul
self-pity was never this gay.
...

A rose, a single rose, slowly but
surely bled to death, by thorns,
merciless in their cruelty,
merry with passion, feasting on my garden’s
...

With the walls of Jerusalem to border his
boundless mind, no tresspassing for those of
little or no faith...or none at all
...

My mother wore a bright white veil
surrounding every one she knew;
Each step she’d take left tracks to stain
our hopes, we’d call upon to do
...

So handsome in his fresh attire
once dressed, occasion followed rage;
A quill at hand, its feathers rose
to wipe those tears that stained his page
...

My eyes now on the clock radio, I could
hear the morning time. Five chirps. It was
five o'clock in the blessed morning, that
damned but blissful morning. Shades of
...

Thunders burst the open sky
doors closing, doors of opportunity…as well
The morning sun rose, revealed its crescent
a narrow yet ever widening grin
...

Sixty miles an hour! That was the speed limit
in Braille that only the blind might see
the cars were a speeding bullet,
raping the midnight air with winds that seemed to
...

“You have cancer, ” my doctor remarked
his words surely shattered what few
windows of opportunity I had left to call my own,
while trumpets sounded, surrounding my every thought
...