Images Of The Sun

Sun shines
waves caress
sand's so hot
winter must confess

White and brown
seem to fly all around
and the sun shines
but shines not on me

Seagulls high
lonely bay
I shout at the waves
who hear not what I say

The tide is in
and the sun shines
thoughts so quiet
on images of the sun

poem by Chris G. Vaillancourt
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Distant Light

Distant light flickers an invitation of hope.
In reaching it, there will be sanctification.
Dimness that surrounds the eyes
will be forgotten.
Black holes that open the heart
will be discarded.
Let the distant light come closer.
Let the distant light be a friend.

Shallow water cannot drown soul.
It can only hinder the passage.
Dampening the spirit as it frolics
like a moonbeam across the mind.
Distance lends unhappiness.
Let the distant light shine bright.
Let the distant light be a guide.

In closets of blackness the hands
seek an opening in the shadows.
They find nothing, but the eyes

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poem by Chris G. Vaillancourt
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Falling Rain

The last wind of winter has ceased its power.
It is memory now, and has no message to give.

The rains of spring have replaced the snow.
And spatter insistent tunes upon the roof.

From the ground, the plants have burst out.
Reminders of the cycle of life and renewal.

Early flowers busy in their own serenity.
Splashes of colour that arrive in splendour.

Oh falling rain, cleanse the dirt of the heart.

I find myself sitting on my back porch.
Surrounded by the discrimination of life.

Sighing gently to the pattern of the rain,
singing softly the songs of emerging spring.

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poem by Chris G. Vaillancourt
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Hot As Cold Wax

Hot as cold wax, blue as the sun.
The forgotten tribes running, running, running.

We are the children of deceit.
We are the unborn ambitions
of love-struck demons
who attacked the
village walls.

Calling for help, screaming for help.
Rushing like snails to doom, to doom, to doom.

Racing cars around a track.
Broken shadows that will
never admit their pain.

Their shallow eyes masking
their glancing vibes.

We are the perfectly formed cells

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poem by Chris G. Vaillancourt
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Dance A Multi-Coloured Dance Of Rainbow

Words can fail like magnets not sticking to the fridge
and we all complain when the rent is due again.
Pay your bills and meet the obligations of
the world, never mind attending to the
payment of your soul.

The new voice is speaking, the new religion
has been announced. We are to celebrate
everything and tradition we are to renounce.
Dance a multi-coloured dance of rainbow
prisms and inter-faith delusions.

We are to ignore the truth of the Gospel
for too many find that it offends. We must
not have complaining and so we must merge
into one blend. Let the fires burn so
brightly as we burn away the words
we do not like. Dance a multi-coloured
dance of rainbow prisms and
inter-faith delusions.

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poem by Chris G. Vaillancourt
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Lonely Soldier And An Enemy

The soldier cleaned his gun in anticipation
for the battle he would be fighting. His mind

was focused on his job. His heart was centred
on his illusions. Lonely soldier in a uniform

without a mind of his own. His officers
received their orders from somewhere else,

from men and women who were fighting a
war of greed. Death was nothing more then

a statistic which would be tabulated and
toned down for the media. Not good to let

the world know the actual cost of human
life in the adventure. A tear fell from his

eyes at the thought of how many men he
had killed. He remembered sitting in his kitchen

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poem by Chris G. Vaillancourt
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