Flames engulf me
Pulling me under
The land crumbles
Below my feet
The buildings toppled
The bridges collapsed
The roads broken
The World is no more.
Solitary in the flames
Of a destruction nearly done
A person emerges
One not yet burned away
As she approaches me
The Universe begins the whirl
All the colors start to shift
And soon all I see is night
As my sight returned
The flame had advanced
Engulfing the solitary person
Leaving me alone
Amongst the blaze.
3/30/20
Hanging from a cross,
The Scarecrow is alone.
Surrounded by all,
Insides coming out.
Colors fading,
And stitching failing.
The Scarecrow is alone.
Circling above its head,
The crows are watching.
Waiting for death’s hour,
So they can eat their fill.
Still the Scarecrow is alone.
Worn down by the ages,
Beaten by wind and rain,
The Scarecrow remains.
Pecked and Torn,
Clawed and Ripped,
The Scarecrow remains.
Bleak, the sky, black overhead.
Crows frantically flying and diving,
Trying for the Scarecrow.
Trying reap from the fields
The lone watcher of all.
The supports that tie it up,
The Scarecrow,
Finally break lose.
It falls from its perch,
Stumbling to the ground.
The Scarecrow’s mask,
It broke in the fall.
Behind it, is revealed a man.
The Scarecrow is alone.
Crows ripping him apart.
Surrounded by all,
Insides coming out.
1-14-20
I sit here
Listening to my record
Writing a poem about
Listening to my record
Take it out
Admire the art
Set it down
Open the record player
Turn it on
Take out the sleeve
Admire the it, maybe
Place the vinyl on turn table
Brush it if need be
Pick-up and place the needle
Turn the dial and listen
Watch it go around
Round and round.
1-15-20
Red Horizons Red horizon, all throughout Crispy, burnt to the ground. Burning seas of smoke, Everywhere we look A world in flames. Knocking, knocking, The skeletal hand at the door Drops the broken clock at our feet. 1/20
Dysfunctionally
Struggling with this
The world unopened
By the mind unclear
Etched in the stone
The art not finished.
Andy McRae
Will I be there tomorrow When the sun comes over the horizon The squirrels begin to dance And birds start to chirp their tunes Will I be there tomorrow When the flowers open towards the sun The bees hum through gardens And the gnomes stand guard Will I be there tomorrow When wind will bellow through the leaves The kites flying at full mast in the sky And balls soaring past the fence Will I be there tomorrow When flames lick the coals of the grill The dog eyeing the plate of brats And splash water in the pool Will I be there tomorrow When the sun fades away The owls begin to call And night becomes dark. Andy McRae 3/29/20
I started this blog as a way to start sharing my poems with everyone again. I will be posting new and old poems on here at a semi-regular basis. I think I am going to aim for at least one or more a week, so come back every now and then and enjoy some words.
RadioactivePoetry 