August End

A working draft of something that ocurred to me while working late at night. I am amazed how the senses can bring about such profound memories and inspire such words to describe them. I hope the reader can envision what I was going for here; a dual purpose that emitts remorse, regrett and the passing of a season.
Enjoy
Witt


Dew hangs on each blade of morning grass
Foretelling of things to pass
Wood smoke permeates atmosphere
Rekindling a memory so familiar
While I labor long past dusk
Immersed in clang and clatter
An industrial matter
Handed down by my father.

Thoughts of a past life
I long not to lose
For scent of a dying campfire
With its glowing plumes
Or gentle caresses of rose petals in full bloom.

A narrative in prose proceeds before me
And I am left alone
It gets into my clothes
Under my skin
And holds
Until a first whisper of winter wind
August end.

D.A. Wittler 15'

Before Dawn

Before Dawn

I awoke before dawn
Dew on the lawn
A pale light rising
Morning horizon
I could picture you lying there
Me in my chair
Up all night again.

Went out alone
In my comfort zone
To forget maybe
I don't know
There was feeling again
Where there once was nothing
And I prayed for you.

Please let there be peace
And angels to watch over you
As I slowly fade from view
May there always be light
Even in the darkest night
Amen.

Thank God for little things
Like puppy dog tails
Tadpoles and snails
And a heart for forgiving
It's not easy forgetting
Those hard times.

Now day has come
I've had my fun
And work is calling
Like a penance
For sins I can't take back
On this dusty road today
Good morning sun.

D.A. Wittler 15'

Somebody Else

When I Was Somebody Else

Back when I was somebody else
My silence filled an empty room
You tried to reach me
But I was too far gone
To realize you were dying inside
While my heart turned cold with dispassion.

Back when I was somebody else
I did not see how the disease inside
Was tearing us apart
You did your part
But I was too far gone
To see the loneliness in your eyes.

Oh, it's so easy
To be somebody else
When the world demands your attention
Hacking into your brain like a virus
Stealing all your secrets
Leaving everything and everyone you love
For the sake of being left alone.

Back when I was somebody else
Silence was my only friend
I turned you out
Turned you off
Like some light switch in my dreams
And how you suffered with your screams.

When I become somebody else
You need to see me for who I am
Alone in a cave of my own making
A place created in my childhood
Safe from all hurt
Like a father's angry rage.

Oh it's so easy
To be somebody else
When the world demands your attention
Hacking into your brain like a virus
Stealing all your secrets
Leaving everything and everyone you love
For the sake of being left alone.

D.A. Wittler 15'

Just Plain Crazy

For all of my countless fans out there. Lol. A new creation born out of my twitterverse.

Just Plain Crazy

Some days I imagine
If things had been different
I would not be here
Maybe I was lazy
And just plain crazy
Goes all through my mind.

Lately I've been dreaming
You lying close to me
Warm in our past life
All the the storm and strife
In your sleeping
You must be thinking too.

In the aftermath of love
Lost souls left in its wake
With angry waves we take
A little more time to heal
With each passing day
Less hurting.

And so I sit here confessing
With complete honesty
My weakness in disguise
No man wants confronting
In the morning
It's like slow suicide.

I know it must get lonely
Worn out from fighting
Me tired of hiding
In this old house
Like years passing
Time and guessing
Is it too late?

D.A Wittler 15'

A Love of Writing

To know this man
Dig deep into his heart
If you can
To uncover his art
A bigger part
Of a greater plan
This is who I am
More than mere mortal
A spiritual portal
From trail to rail and beyond
A stronger bond to hold God's hand
Than footprints in the sand.

D.A. Wittler 15'

Twitterverse

Twitterverse


What would you say to me
If only you could?
I spent my life
Dodging truth
Believing lies
And left you behind
In some fit of childish rage.

Inside of me
This anger is silence
And you should know by now
My heart is wounded easily
But my soul lives on in agony
Without you.

Even if I could
It would not change a thing
The storm has passed
The damage done
And spring was yesterday.

And so you see
What we could be
But time has left us wounded
As if we have forgotten how to breath
Beneath a wave of yesterday
God save us.

And so there are no more words
No more admiring glances from afar
Only reality and suffering
And old hopes of what could have been
Goodbye.

Welcome to my twitterverse
Where words are anything but trivial
And life is worn like a warm shirt
Infused with the scent of you
My love.

D.A. Wittler 15'

A Womb Liberation Day Proclamation

It was a simple time and yet controversy and turmoil was brewing all around. Camelot was in full bloom and the knights in shinning armor gathered enforce to proclaim a day of celebration. It was a time of liberation and commemoration as the cutting of the chord of codependence had come at long last; nine months to be exact. It was early morning in the month of July as the birds awoke before sunrise to greet another new life into the world. So named was the "valley dweller" who took residence and drew first breath in a world new and bright to a celestial being earth bound to parents and siblings alike. And so a story began...

The year was 1962 and the era of post war prosperity and boomers drew to a close as the term "Civil Rights Movement" and Vietnam loomed on that golden horizon of destiny. Camelot would soon be replaced with "The Great Society" as administration and politics were the order of the day. What had been a promise to promote the call of freedom and justice still looked feasible to the most scholarly and elite classes. And in the background there stood A Stranger on the Shore and the sweet melody of Roses are Red played as the number one hit on the top forty music charts. The British Invasion had begun as four lads from Liverpool took the beachead as The Greatest Generation had so bravely done on sandy and precarious shores not many years before. It was truly a new beginning for America the Beautiful. What was to pass only God knew of what the terrible two's would bring to an infant crying in a lonesome crib late at night. The cholic of time would prove most trying, triumphant and disapointing to this child perched on the edge of his own humanity. And so the story continued...

The Sixties, as any other dacade, laid claim to its own swansong as a new kind of revolution challenged the traditional views of style, culture and morality. A "do it if it feels good" mentality became the montra of a flower powered and pleasure seeking youth while the hearty and patriotic answered a call of duty and an end to communist aggression as the race to reach for the stars reached its climax with "man on the moon." In the eyes and ears of a seven year old came the vision of an eagle landing and giant leap for mankind. Rock and Roll became the new sensation as the era of the crooner became destined to book shelves and memory lane. But in the unsettled dust of the ages there loomed another decade to prepare a young man for further education and adolescence. And so came the seventies...

Most remembered in war there comes a near forgotten peace to a beleagured populace torn between right and wrong; and there was no peace in the valley for "me" in the seventies. "Tricky Dick" gave us a new political drama to ponder while an Eagle Scout took the riegns of power; albeit by defaualt and not the popular vote. Sex,drugs and disco became the rallying cry for those locked away in closets to proclaim their independence from sodomy laws and discreet indiscretion. But like all new trends comes a plague noone anticipates, and thus the world of men came to know a cry so harsh from deep within that it would infect another generation of the innocent. And so as the decade closed, a nation put away its sweaters and fireside chats to embrace a new kind of "star wars"...

In the Purple Rain we stood face to face with an old ally turned terrible menace; an Evil Empire turned even colder over time during the eighties. Guns and weapons of mass destruction turned up a heated debate over our own security and what it meant to defeat an enemy from within. It was hoped the mighty would fall by their own device, but somehow divine grace won out and a new foe in the form of a country called Afghanistan reared its ugly head and caused our enemy to turn and run with tail between hind legs. Ronny reassured us with jelly beans and tough talk by conservative means while back room deals became public as a lone Marine took the fall.Then there was George who took us triumphantly into a new prosperity only to be derailed by promises that could not be kept. And so passed the eighties for a young man who joined in with adventurous eyes to "Be All He Could Be" and see the world first hand.

The nineties brought forth civility and domestic bliss for a young man approaching his thirties. Bill had Monica in a back room at the Whitehouse while bombing aspirin factories in Iraq became the new outrage. Terrorism began to show a new kind of masked villain in the form of radical religious fervor while remnants of a fallen wall became museum pieces for future generations to ponder. The young man had seen barbed wire fences and the faces of an oppressed people; the oppressed were now Christians caught up in a Muslim crusade. My how a nation lost itself in believing that government could solve all of its problems as wealfare became the new subsistance and illegals did much of the hard work for them. In the mean time a new breed of tech savvy individuals brought video gaming into the main stream and again a generation stood on the precipace of change. All the while new life came into the world and a couple saw the fruits of their labor come to light through opportunity, hard work and the realities of day care. And so came the new millenium with no particular circumstance, computer crashes or end of the world prophesies come true.

Finally, we find ourselves in present days and facing a new crusade to save the family. Torn apart by all manner of deceit and misdirection. Suddenly "anything goes" and bigots are Christians clinging to a cross some call hatred. For the children of a lost generation, what will they face beyond reality television and the new playstation? For a middle aged man facing an uncertain future, life is taken in small parcels as "one day at a time" becomes his new montra. Sons grow to maturity and who knows how high the cost of a "good education" will rise before everything falls apart through economic ruin. Soms still cling to a government solution while others proclaim a new revolution is the only way to go. For this grey haired fellow who longs for the cover of his first novel, hope remains eternal. And so there is no end, only new beginnings and a womb liberation day proclamation. Thank You Jordan for your words of inspiration!

bloom