Tag Archives: Lonliness

Poet’s Words

The words reflect the poet’s depth of thought
Accounting for antagonist’s naught
Crushed by the wheels of the juggernaut
Accomplishing without looking haut

© 2011 Michael Yost

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In the Glass I See

There in the glass I see a sixteen year old boy with an old man’s mask on. I begin to notice the dark circles under the green eyes that sparkle; nothing dull yet; but his glasses do need cleaning. I see white stubble and mustache with a two inch long goatee on his saddening face; like he’s had no reason to shave in the past few days. Looking closer I see the goatee covers a weak double chin with a single wrinkle that goes down the length of his neck. The same white stubble covers his shaved head to cover the thinning bald spot in the back and what’s left of his front hairline.
His round upturned nose reminds me of a Santa’s nose, but there’s a thin scar going diagonal from the left nostril to the top that makes his nose tilt to the right side of his face. His cheekbones are set high, but it seems to highlight the dark circles more. The ears are long and close to the head.
Wait a minute… he’s starting to smile with a broad grin and his eyes are lighting up and sparkling even more. His whole face transforms and laughs a little with a tear rolling down his cheek and then is when I happily succumb to my fate realizing the old man is me and that my wrinkles are really my laugh lines. My green eyes are still that of the sixteen year old from so many years ago… but they’re still with me today.

© 2011 Michael Yost 12/10

Melancholy Mood, Bob Dylan

Found Memories

Renewed feelings slipped through my defense
Had to make room they were getting intense
Beating back only stiffened their resolve
Heart’s overflowing as it dissolves

Passing by again her head held high
Mona Lisa smile eyes piercing deny
Any love left has gone by the way side
Now I see it nothing’s left but to die

© 2016 Michael Yost 03/23

 

Nepotism Negatives

We follow them double back up the creek
Then the dogs losing our scent was bleak
The Queen gagged over the saddle awake
She doesn’t know I do this for my sake

My words no longer has the power
They went astray when I turned coward
Even holding my feet to the fire
I can’t tell the truth known to be a liar

They planned to kill us both yesterday
My wicked brother was next and paid
Telling Queen mother other son’s plans
Racing to hope with a new lifespan

She had her archers kill all but one
The man riding the white horse her son
Taking him to the stocks and later hung
Then the Queen died and His subjects sung

© 03/15 Michael Yost 2016

 

Aluminuggets

Not having ten advisors I look to you
You seem to know the answers with no voodoo
Watching the caldron my fate seems to bubble up
Dipping in the chalice I taste the corrupt

Picking up the gold nuggets emptying the cans
Looking towards the new horizon I stand
Watching the sun crest over the fall tree line
Gathering in the carts I count all that’s mine

© 03/03 Michael Yost 2016

The Curb Can be Cold

Here we are again, once more on the curb
What we own is here, on the lawn, in the “burb”
All were looking and we’d hoped not to disturb
Old friends closed drapes, when Dad’s cries were heard

His job and home gone, no one seemed to care
Once his shotgun was found, he looked for stares
Raising his gun, cops killed him there in his chair
All were looking and we’d hoped not to scare

© 2014 Michael Yost 03/05