Monthly Archives: May 2015

Watering the Soul

My tears fill the hole that she left behind

I built it inside my soul, where she was enshrined

My chin sitting upon my chest feeling confined

Fog covers the dark street where I walk resigned

 

Mutual friends cross the street in advance

Passing with their loud whispers and piercing glance

Looking up from their footfalls and my trance

I wave with a smile under these circumstances

 

Twisting and turning trying to find the crack

When we talked, it became personal attacks

Things were put aside that used to be whacked

Watching two people turn each other’s heart black

 

Striping new wires to try and connect

Amperage too high, another reject

Nothing left to do with too much to expect

Boarding up the hole and my soul now introspect

 

 

© 2012 Michael Yost 08/30

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Invisible

I sit alone in my living room
Watching you pass by every day
Never seen your smile just hanging gloom
Some things not seen will forever stay

My desires and eyes follow your walk
Looking forward in finding a way
To not to become a laughingstock
Introducing myself at your doorway

It’s five o’clock on a Saturday
Walking by her chin rests on her chest
My feet getting cold and getting old
And probably will be for life

 

© 2015 Michael Yost 05/28

Nothing Like before

 

The world is empty and void without you

As I spin the flesh falls off and drifts into space

Raw emotions left at the pulsating core

With nothing left to embrace

Nothing like before

 

The cold vacuum ices over the warmth of distant stars

Drawing out the last bit of life I have left

Pulsating less and less till no more

Frozen solid conscious yet alive stalling death

Nothing like before

 

Or does your conscience just stream and dream

When you die, left spinning, just beginning

The world is empty and void without you anymore

No forgiveness of my sinning

Nothing like before

 

© 2011 Michael Yost 06/09

Temptation on the Trail

Over the edge hanging by four fingers

The pit of my being said let’s not linger

Adrenaline strength, but one finger was slipping

Salt in my eyes from the sweat that was dripping

 

Falling in slow motion my hand is grabbed tight

My feet start to slide as I fight for my life

Going down hard, rock’s cut open my knees

Then I stopped my slide when I grabbed a tree

 

He pulled me forward and I fell face down

Clutching the weeds, I was praising the ground

I thanked the stranger that saved me from dying

My tears mixed with sweat as I started crying

 

I finally get up and look down the dirt road

Thinking I’ll never stray and do as I’m told

No matter how tempting the sights may be

I’ll look down at my leg and the scar on my knee

 

© 2011 Michael Yost

Who am I to Judge?

Rainstorms remind me to be more thankful
When caught in this disappointed handful
For the time that I spent alone on the streets
Now inside my home when it snows or sleets

Grateful to God giving praise when I pray
Behind locked doors where the wolves are at bay
Having a new roof and a warm cozy bed
With good hot meals and a place for my head

Some are still standing in the long soup line
Smelling like wet dogs and cheap screw cap wine
It’s choices they made of their own choosing
Most are smart men who’d rather be boozing

There are new families with kids in soup lines
Victims of lost jobs or the banks some combined
With a clean conscience, not judging, only examine
Is it a lack of faith, sin, trials or predetermined

We are the instruments of His ordained works
If we don’t help who’ll do the framework?
Offer aid and assistance when you can
We are all saved by grace and His plan
©2012 Michael Yost 3/18

Over Duet

Who should I address these love letters to
The girls I fell in love with years too few
I am sorry that they are way overdue
But still hold the meaning my loving you

Can’t hold on to reality much longer
It’s hard to define one from another
Degrees of pain seems to be the measure
Try erasing gains off the pain’s ledger

So we grasp another with devotion
Tugging, hugging and feeling emotion
Without overdoing your burning charcoal
Would you please stay and fill the loopholes

© 2015 Michael Yost 05/22

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Tickling my Nose

Deeper waters burn and tickle my nose
Exhausted and slipping in and out prose
Composting lawns with no blades seen
Trying very hard not to boast and preen

Choices made without my approvals
Graduating players eager to bust skulls
My nose is still burning and tickling
Girl’s new Water Polo Coach is rising

© 2015 Michael Yost 05/16

Water Polo Team (720x480) (2)