Pearl Harbor

Stand atop the mast, and gaze upon the harbor
It has seen many come and go on its water
First, men in tall ships of wood and wind filled arbor
Then came the dreadnaughts, along the piers they gather

Look to the west, and Ford Island stands there alone
Along her shore, lie the bodies of ships and men
The Arizona, a coffin stripped to the bone
Upon its decks, the crew will never tread again

Gazing back into the drink, the sea creatures play
The jellyfish and stingrays are abundant there
The occasional hammerhead often will stray
Small boats, tracking on various courses they fare

A bustling harbor of the living, and long dead
Pearl, and its memories fill my proud old grey head

© Copyrights G. Jones 2008

Author's Note: Sailor's Sonnet Series

The Stirrer

My presence upsets your balance
Of you, I am not aware
Except, in passing
When deflecting your
Would be, wounds

I'm a reality
From which, you hide
A bad picture
That has survived destruction
A living image, of your guilt
The baby, you long ago, aborted

Change, is something you desire
A relief, of a constant reminder
Of which I , represent to you
What a pity, your blinded heart

Your pain, I cannot feel
Only you have to live, knowing
Deep down, that you can never
Touch, my spirit

© Copyrights G. Jones 2012

Author's Note: The In the Weird Series

The Shadow

There is a shadow in the corner of my mind
It haunts my restless nights and lethargic long days
A silent whisper pries both my past and present
The cold voice, infuriating and persistent

Always, it reminds of weakness and transgressions
It urges my evil desires and obsessions
Each sweat filled night I toss and turn to disregard
Its constant preaching distracts my day’s agenda

My very soul can feel it dragging me downward
The mirror reflects a face of pain and anguish
My heart has become still and cold, I have no tears
My screen name hides my true tortured identity

With my double words, I whisper to the outside
My poetry plays in the cyber ether plain
I’m a shadow haunted by another inside
Two tortured brothers whispering in silence

© Copyrights G. Jones 2012

Author's Note: The Path to Consciousness Series

The Dancing Harlot

She kept the poison, hidden in a vile
Suspended, between her enticing breasts

Seduction was her vanity, and her alluring charm
Irresistible to men, vexing her calculating mind

Causing her to abhor them, and invoke a deep hate
Triggering an incredulous, cool sardonic smile

Gathering lovers into her captivating coil
To smite them blind, with her deadly attention

While they are writhing in her wanton bed
With an obsidian dagger, embedded in their chest

The harlot dances, intoxicated and warped
Murder, the aphrodisiac in her blasphemous head

© Copyrights G. Jones 2012

Author's Note: The In the Weird Series

Remember

Remember
Watching the tide
The sandpipers around
The old barnacled
Pillars of the wharf
Everything wet
You, silky and soft

© Copyrights G. Jones 2012

Author's Note: The Memory Photographs Series

Behold

The sun's rays return

Replacing, the morning dew

Behold, the bright earth


© Copyrights G. Jones 2006

Author's Note: The Memory Photographs Series

The Cowboy

With flashbulbs popping, the starlit cowboy
Does his well practiced, red carpet entrance
Eyes, sweeping the paparazzi parade

Movie dust circles, his still silhouette
The extras, edging the dimming shadows
Drink his soft shining, left over passage

His borrowed lady, around rubber arm
Smiling, he waves, while his stolen heart fades
Unknown to all, an Oscar performance

© Copyrights G. Jones 2006

Author's Note: The In the Weird Series

Their Agony

Forward
Our young soldiers
Fierce eyed, and mud covered
Minds, weary of an endless war

They trudge, through visions of the blood
Brave, brothers and sisters
Have shed before
Their own

Whose names
Now are only
Inscribed in marble stone
While supressing, their agony

Of the truth

© Copyrights G. Jones 2012

Author's Note: The Path to Consciousness Series

Hungry Grasping Greed

With, hungry grasping greed
Beneath a maple tree
Suspended, swaying
Vermilion fall leaves

Lying, face up upon
Lush, verdant grass
Rests, a fool man
With, a ghostly hue

His soul
Recently taken to flight
From enduring
A caustic, truth

Ever so consistent
His icy black heart
Provided a hardened, gate
To the walls
Of a shadowy
Rustic bower

Encompassing
The cooling embers
Of a dying fire
Where love was
Never, asked in
Or welcomed to stay

One lifeless eye
Staring blindly, upward
The other, within the belly
Of a single
Cawing raven
Proudly marching
Upon his lifeless
Bare chest

Occasionally pecking
The empty socket
With hungry grasping greed

© Copyrights G. Jones 2012

Author's Note: The Path to Consciousness Series