John DeBona Poems

Journey to the center
pulling, swirling
Energies anew
Vibration and colors
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The dungeon walls reek of despair
Floors wet and bloodstained.
Darkness rules over night and day.
Empty chambers that echo with misery.
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Drink from the chalice of death.
Swallow its bittersweet poison.
Struggle for your breath.
Die in a lonely prison.
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A wildflower
The first rays of sun
The breath of day
the smell of rain.
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Dripping blood, spewing hate
In my dreams, I can't escape
I see your face, what you've done.
I cannot hide, when the nightmares come.
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I cried on the first day of school.
I felt like a fool, on the first day of school.
Dad made up words, a bit like Pig Latin.
The teacher held up a picture of a monkey.
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Waiting for the fall, vultures circle over.
The smell of death, cries on the wind.
The accuser waits in ambush.
Hiding in its lair.
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Clouds drift across a blue winters sky.
Wind blows, snow falls the solstice has passed.
The crocus sheds the bonds of silence
and breaks through the chains of ice.
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The general scouts the battlefield
stone faced, hardened by war.
His blood is cold, an icy stare.
He listens,
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The spirit is like a flame, dancing in the darkness.
The voice is like the wind moving across the meadows of thought.
The soul is like an infant, innocent and wanting to be fed.
The heart is like a chamber, through which all of these flow.
...