ripples

at night river seen
only as a reflection
of stars far above

desires

time to sit and dream
open windows from within
hear the songs of friends

spiders

guard their secret stash
wrapped in silk until dinner
is to be explored

Free Kindle Poetry! Dec 13-15, 2015

My "Selected Poems" is cost-free on Amazon today through Tuesday for my Kindle friends. In case you don't know, there is a free Kindle app for every device I'm aware of, so if you don't use Kindle yet - this may be your chance. The poems are even small enough to be readable on a phone =:-) Enjoy!

http://www.amazon.com/Selected-Poems-R-Soos-ebook/dp/B015HHGEYG/

blessings

words fall from the sky
most people walk right by them
others sweep them up

dust

swirls in sunlight trails
collects on my piano
twirls in streams of air

depths

my own soul teaches

love does not spare suffering

while offering joy

melancholy

words are left behind
to practice in the darkness
dreams still left alive

america

lost for six hours
first sight of humanity
simply says "KEEP OUT"

breath

we have time for words
whispered in the deep ashes
beneath our cold feet

news

my mind never stays
where I want it to focus
the music shines deep

news

time finished its song
a love duet with the sun
just before setting

news

a little singing
before waking morning and
guitar shapes arise

public school three year olds

eyes being emptied
of childhood's loud laughter
stare in unbelief

it seems

that everyone hangs on
to the knowledge of how much
love they have to share

distant

embrace the silence
in your own words like prayer
rising as incense

faith

once the dream mirrors
reality the question
about truth begins

camping

I light the fire
to greet the day with a glow
which welcomes the sun

writing

today's pure process
will not be true tomorrow
and still life is good

stone

naked prayers write
themselves in the darkest caves
word gardens of life

spirit

who speaks of silence?
who listens to its meaning?
who is not alone?

dreams

age yawns and slowly
falls asleep forming new life
chiseled in my mind

walking

prayers play the flute
on the cool morning hillside
in tune with the wind

farm

sweat returns downward
toward the earth which struggles
with the field workers

eternity

my mind is secure
my soul has its own address
my body wanders

outside in (breath)

contemplating stars
contemplating human hearts
both expanses great

swing

I push my child
soft away and she comes back
yelling "harder please"

language

folks speak poetry
it's a matter of habit
from deep in the soul

choice

I keep my world small
family books home and food
very small poems

spaces between six

strings keep the guitar
catching tears in the wooden
body with music

age

many old poems
have the language of flowers
that have never bloomed

Selected Poems

Selected Poems 1965-2015 now available at Amazon

the dark

uses the brushes
that were cleaned in the sunlight
to wake the painting

beweenthewords

readingancientgreek
makesmewonderifwecould
stillreadwithoutspace

a poem

won't stand still for you
often it stands on its head
waiting for your tune

dream vacation

I would go places
poems live before they find
their way to paper

my guitar

hangs there
with six voices
bleeding with songs
living very deep
in the mirror

when my children were born

I could see it in their eyes
each time I saw another poet
has come with passionate wisdom
to wail alone into the void
with fists raised high in the air
constantly contemplating this chaos

a poem

soars above meaning

and liberates every soul

open to its song

silence

my mind

tears out pages

waiting for voices

to wake the poems

evening routine

*
grave

forget tenderness
serene silent threnodies
rage deep in my soul

*
intelligence

shines in his deep eyes
as he spirals in circles
through the garden leaves

*
angry

ranting and raving
in the overwhelming light
collapsing in sweat

*
response

he sticks out his tongue
and bangs his head on the wall
behind the garden

*
sweating

mother revolted
by the dark blood on the wall
screams in tender fear

*
later

oblivious he
undoes the lock on the gate
washed clean by the moon

beneath whispers

the heart alone
has taken charge
thoughts fill too slowly
prayer acts as referee
between the heart and mind

the dance alone
has vanished bright
thoughts fill too darkly
prayer acts as laughing joy
between the feet and mind

memory

a death seed sings the distant
melody traveling toward sea
with such quick impatience and

claims new worlds
to light the roads
dawning beneath your feet

storm

in the clouds
raining fresh
nectar of flowers
onto the earth

silence in the shade
sparkles like dew
on a spring night

the stream of time

will only dream
of the pain
you live with
forever

music pierces

the huge deserted palace
of the heart

the chalice filled
with flowers within

the drops of dew
surrounding the dawn

the love that a poem
cuddles close to its breast

the sweet muttered prayer
of a mother for child

the space in a corner
saved for troubled boys

the tearful goodbyes
of one fearful of death

the infinite truth
known only to God

at night

I read aloud verses
slowly
to hear the dark voices
building
in the resting shadows

Free Kindle Poetry!

All four five of my books available on Kindle are FREE from June 1 through June 5, 2015! Can't beat that price!

Parting/Departing (2015)

Bringing In The Sheets (2012)

Why Poetry? (1974)

In Bed an In the Bathtub (1970)

Just added!: America's My Homeland (1976) - this one is available June 3 - 7, 2015. More coming soon.

Follow (like) my page on Facebook if you would like to hear about more of my books when they become available free on Kindle: https://www.facebook.com/guitarsoos

Enjoy!

middle of the night

I can hear armadillos
crossing the road to dig
for insects in the yard
I walk out and sit quiet
on the porch watching
the hungry critters crawl
slow and aimless
in the moonlight

one seemed to look at me
and mesquites watched too

beneath the grass
insect antennae twitch
expectantly in the decay
of cool shifting topsoil

Child Wisdom

innocent explorations of dreams
and images and new found discoveries
create knowledge without critique

each touch and thought is fresh
and dreams are not really inconsistent
and flowers and insects sing excitement

and peace is not a task to search for
and failure is not a source for scourge
but a path for clearer understanding

dreams and hopes i have forgotten
belong to the children of wisdom with
their laughter and songs promising blessings

for future rainbows and a trusting
pact have i made with them giving
my prayers to their accomplishments

my poetry

my clothes reek of body odor
my wrinkles explain visions of age
my dreams observe the beasts of love
my hymns declare my passion for justice
my words declare my clothes and wrinkles
my words enhance my dreams and hymns

sweat drops from the precious fruit of poem

communion

art reaches beyond being conscious
to
        absolve
                            dissolve
                                                resolve
every self understanding
             or expectation

nothing is itself

unbroken strings of unseen particles
keep us tied together unwittingly

deep inside each atom is 99 percent empty space

inhale the future blues

sticky bloating south Texas humidity
lungs twisting airless inside out
while waiting for the tornado to appear
heavy streams of sweat rivulet from every pore

air salty sharp with winged bug clouds
and Willie Brown kicking in his sleep
can’t sing the future, can’t sing the past
seems like every minute gonna be my last

society cares little, if any, for poets but there
is power in turning a noun into a verb that protects
the concentrated thought releases involved in
forgetting the sticky bloating south Texas humidity

and pretending the watery air drinks like wine
which explains the folks staggering all the time
free to share more than we know about ourselves
recording every breath twisting airless inside out

music

removes desires
to know what is missing
it is all there

offstage

wasted words
continue
afterwards

soft and peaceful
together
past the pain

a time to fully
remember
to be alone

look to escape
quietly
for a moment

A stone dropped

in a stream dances in ripples
through the shade of overhead branches

for a few moments
the world has lost its balance

softly it recedes and it becomes
a vibrating silence as water again

flows beneath the weight of air

poem is playground

poem is filled with banal beggars
words of rain and thunder
with seasons of drought
burning with compassion
and warring with the senses

poem wars with cynical reason
while seeking the streets mystics
dream of with such simplicity
the words of poems written
centuries ago reappear in poem

poem sings from closed windows
a music small and destitute sounding
deeply like the ocean through glass
scrutinized line by line for depth
for poem to do what it is not able

Special Ed Committee

in a presence of intelligence
scrutinized measured algebraized
then entered on a spreadsheet
to be graphed and judged by a jury
of their elders without one small
lighted flame in any of them
the darkness is overwhelming

the child's gifts unknown
far above and beyond

Turning 60

a trilateral description

It is humbling
thrilling
and deflating
to understand
the absolute truth
of having slept
through twenty years
of life.

There are tracings
of the depths
vaguely
illuminated
while awake.

Never fully
apparent.

Each year to come
I will sleep
for four months per.

person

at Walmart
with their sleeping bag

sits

people walk around them

ignored
ignoring

a bookmark in a bible

for many years it's been on the same page
in the same thrift store on the same shelf
I've seen it every time I visit and I wonder
if I'd be invading the privacy of the original
reader if I peeked to see what they marked
so many years ago and I think they may still
be alive and I could call them up - we could
discuss their choices and they could ask me
questions I don't want to hear and discuss
my choices and I know bookmarks in bibles
are really love notes between the reader
and their creator. And I move on to see if
any clothing my size has come in this week.

the painter

on the river walk
sketches a face
near a flower
in sunlight

the flower grows
magic on patio

barges float
by easily

beneath whispers

the heart alone
has taken charge
thoughts fill too slowly
prayer acts as referee
between the heart and mind


the dance alone
has vanished bright
thoughts fill too darkly
prayer acts as laughing joy
between the feet and mind

struggle

flowers open in polluted wind
searching for bees to continue
their raving beauty each year

music

removes desires
to know what is missing
it is all there

Amazon author page

R.Soos