For You

cease turning my green to grey
with wilful acts of nature
your heart is found in theirs
providing for this urgency
to lose love's indifference,
redeem that part of self
that feels only for you

poem by Frederick Kesner
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Questing Relish

zealous young xenophiles
wail violent utterances

tasked surreptious rail
qualms permit ornaments

nibbling mice livid
kilo joule increments

harped geese fly
every delicate caress
bourne aloft

poem by Frederick Kesner
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Our Moonlit Getaway

if there be but two

on this twilight moon's

landscape, there might be

in a galaxy of its own

a hidden treasure trove

of good and loved things

that can be opened up

and relished each day!

poem by Frederick Kesner
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Delirium

they seek their birth

beyond all meaning

slipping through one's

yearnings into one's

e x p l o r i n g s

their spirits dwelling

within the crevices of

our delirious words.......

`

poem by Frederick Kesner
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Not now, I'm busy

`

shadowed
in early evening's
darkened corner
his smile
responds to your
gruff remark
and you
do not see
the tear
rolling
from his cheek
he turns
the faintest hint
of sadness
cloaks his eye

[...] Read more

poem by Frederick Kesner
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Recall

`

memories
scaffold sleep's dreams

visions:
dancing with the sun

sensations
meld thought and emotion

remedy
for inevitable amnesiac

deliver
sibilant phrases
splinter
bridge to forgetfulness.

[...] Read more

poem by Frederick Kesner
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Waterfront Solitude

`

Less than a bell's tinkle
fainter than a whistle
stars in the sky twinkle
your breath a hushed whisper

O the tiniest sparkle
dapple on glassy water
far from distant heckles
my soul freed from shackles

`

poem by Frederick Kesner
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Llama Express

across the Andean Alps
on bygone empire trails
like vagabonds traversing
on woolen backs and hooves

the dust rises behind them
the wind sweeps their fur
pots and pans, ceramic things
this road train ever moves

poem by Frederick Kesner
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Harvest Dreaming

in my muddle-minded daze
a rustic song rising up

tendrilled smoke drifting southward
'Go home, ' spoke the lone nettle

still standing silent, weeping
shady sheaves heavy: waiting;

tomorrows bursting with grain.

`

poem by Frederick Kesner
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Morphed Illusions

what are we to do
about shadows in the mirror
pray tell before they rise -

filling in memories
of film noir and poetry
dark or brooding
states of alienation

blaring piano forte
of shadowy symphonics:
inimitable contrivances.

poem by Frederick Kesner
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