In the Garden

Just a thought!

My bones now brittle, my soul compromised,

I relinquish my sins to the Devil.

Take me Dark Lord, Let me live by your side,

Give me sustenance to rid my affliction.

Yea, though I walk in a pestilent Garden,

I will sow all your seeds of despair...

The righteous condeemed to eternal damnation,

Their souls weeping blindly, in the abscess of time.

Wrap my ankles in ivy, pull me down in the darkness,

Let me live in the blackness of hell..

No more shall I weep to a mythical creature...

My bones forever sown,

                              "In the Garden."


     by Barry Anderson

Author's Notes/Comments: 

"In the Garden"  ....."A little darkness to brighten your day"

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A Breeze of Memory

A graveyard of dead trees

Fallen leaves of vast red and orange seas

Squirrels scurry before winter strikes

As children play while others pass on bikes


harmony of the trees an the wind come together and sing

As a bird chirps then stops to clean it's wing

Children shrieking and screaming as they play

Angry armies of cars roar past, then fly away


Memories start of when I was a kid

Only broken away by time an what it did

Sitting still only in question

Of who I am and to what is my impression


I laughed . . . I played here

I was happy unknown of fear

But then reality again breaks memory's connection

Only to be lost again, still unknown of my reflection


Author's Notes/Comments: 

annnd, here you have yet another class assignment that I did way back.


rolling thunder

i remember being little


and going to viewings,


thinking about how the casket

always looked so comfortable


and soft, with it's satin lining


and soft satin pillow. the


bodies always looked


the same, just asleep,


and rather peaceful.



catholic viewings were


especially boring if


they chose to say the rosary


in the heavy, thick


atmosphere, with


intervals in betwen the


occasional nose blowing


and sniffling of a


weeping relative, or


wailing hysterics of a


child or mother overcome


with sorrow while being


forced to face the reality


of the situation.



today when i hear a


motorcycle pass me


it sometimes brings


back the 'rolling thunder'


of monotone voices


saying the rosary...



...except without the


weeping and wailing.






11:11 PM 5/8/2013 ©

Author's Notes/Comments: 


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Dancing in another space, unwilling to turn around,
Playing games, taunting this place,
Knowing your life is no longer a race to the finish,
All debts and debtors relinquished,
Laughing for a short moment while the time is ripe,
Watching your body lie still on the bed
While you can't help but feel compassion
For those left behind,
If they only knew your mind,
The beauty you now know is beyond the flesh,
You try repeatedly to tell them it's ok,
And that they aren't losing their minds
If they hear you, but only one or two take heed.
You wait for months, every nervous twitch seen
Seems to make them think you are coming back,
But I hear you...that it is way too nice where you are going,
And there is no turning back,
Some of us sense your desire to tell them,
And wish I could tell them for you,
We can only be here,
We cannot speak for you,
You must find a way to make them understand,
Or just make an exit and bid farewell to this land.



3:00 AM 4/20/2013 ©

Author's Notes/Comments: 

People go into comas and last for years while their body is preserved by science. The spirit...waits.

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