The Poetry of D.W. Peterson
At the edge
Everything burns itself into the wind
Weaving dreams from rust
Visions from dust
Where desire flows like silky sands
As if hanging on by silky strands
But the dream smiles not beneath black thoughts
Frail little cracked man stands at the edge
Tick tock, tied to the clock
Swinging its pendulous scythe
Futility unbound strikes at him
Sand for blind eyes
The monster keeps rolling
Perched on the awakening sun
And screams with an insane chortle
Clock in hand
The jagged words slowly spoil his mind
Its daunting laughter cuts and lays him bare
Pleading for life he searches himself
Dust
Dust, all that is found
He would fly above the rooftops for unspoiled dreams
Soft golden sand
D.W. Peterson ©1999
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Awakening
Stagnant
Standing still
Static
Immobile
Quiescently motionless
Inert
Feeling dead
A squalid emotion of listless lifelessness
An encompassing pervasion akin to ice
Frozen in time
Never moving
Never thinking
Never realizing
Never
Until in one sudden shock
Breathe
Inhaling
Blood moving
Thoughts begin to stir
How long have I been dead?
Hours?
Years?
No time for the trivial
Time to drink life in, and exhale with a hearty sigh
Got to keep moving or slowly, surely, I die
D.W. Peterson ©1999
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Bitterness
So true, I flew
The fall cements me
Stuck frozen in time
To a wall in front of me
Step aside and pass
Such a simple gesture
A thought that shall never last
In a mind of pure dementia
These things so simple
Which become so complex
As time meanders through the misty garden
The fog becomes so thick
As if trapped in a snare
The snake devoured the hare
You have nothing for your feast
And as time meanders by
With a soulful tear in your eye
You become a detestable beast
D.W. Peterson © 1999
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Denial
The minutes of my life tick by
As if unmeasured
Like the metronome toggled to the highest notch
Hours pass before me
Before I realize, a week has passed
A month
A year
What to do now?
Apathy has turned my mind to the consistency of porridge
When will they finally fire the starting gun?
Have they already?
Have I ridden this train of thought for so long?
How can one pull himself from this monotony?
The daily drudgery of lifelessness
My body unwilling to conform to the tasks at hand
Sleepless nights, dreamless sleep
To think such things would make me weep
So I turn my head away
Don’t want to realize
Don’t want to recognize
This bitter reality
Don’t want to think about
All that’s left of me
So you say I’m in denial
Well that’s how I have to be
D.W. Peterson ©1999
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Desperation
The chains tighten
Every click of the cog leaves you gasping in dreaded anticipation
Anxiety creeps on you from every direction
Stalking you like a hungry beast
Devoured by apprehension you choke
Cut off at every turn you desperately strive for an escape
But find none
Thumbing through page after page in the chapters of your mind
Empty parchment is all you find
Awaiting the infinite years for this day to end
Sinking into the hungry sands of time
© D.W. Peterson 1999
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The Fall of a Tear
Hacking
Fading
Spiraling down
This torturing madness
Waiting to drown
Live day to day, squeeze cheer from a bottle
To see life fade is the fuel for the throttle
The faster you burn, the further you go
But where are we headed?
Does anyone know?
So deepening down in agonies fall
Writhing on floors of pain and misfortune
And build us the most of fortified walls
Higher and higher, keep the evil things out
Till sudden you realize
You’re lost in a cage
And none hear your shout
Does anyone know this festering rage?
The death of a soul, isolated within
The fall of a tear
From within the eye out
D.W. Peterson ©1993
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Huggs
Take my arms, and wrap them 'round you
When you're feeling sad or blue
Don’t be down, or sad or mad
Just take this hug or maybe two
Take them with you, anywhere
Anywhere you go with you
And know that in my heart
I'll always be there too
© D.W. Peterson 1997
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I Wish
I wish you could see through my eyes
Through all the things you try to hide
But it seems your veil is rather frail
And all can see but you
Encrusted in your eyes
From the deception and the lies,
You try to be this thing you think is free
But you can’t ‘cause you can’t see,
The chains that drag you down
You chastise me for being what I am
You try to bend and mold me
You try to bring me down
Do you think that I’m unhappy
With the things that I’m around?
I am the square block!
I cannot be pressed into a round hole,
Without losing something of myself
Forced through I’d shear off,
The things which make me what I am
And still not a round peg would you find
A jagged rod, a fragment of what was
Splinters standing out to show the scars
Not to fit in anywhere
A shadow amongst the stars
To look a man in honest eyes
And find respect
My soul shall fly!
‘Tis a thing much better than gold
For the riches of the world
A heavy price for pearls
Your very self is sold
D.W. Peterson ©2000
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In His Eyes
I saw in his eyes, he’d been struck
Even though he couldn’t tell me I knew
I saw the hatred
Trusting none, not even me
Hours of reassurance
He finally let down his guard
If only a chuckhole, a tiny window
I could peer into his soul
The flicker of light which lights the space
Slowly beginning to fade
I would take him away
If only I could
From this horrid place
Where evil men steal his soul
Turning this spirit as black as coal
My hands are tied
Nothing to do
Just watch and wait
His time is through
D.W. Peterson ©1999
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My Way
The simple man of compassion
Never rouse the deep within
This thing which sleeps is better then
Don’t dare to tread where serpents lie
Don’t share your soul with the passer-by
Walk on and pass, the things unkind
Never return to the path behind
Then my gleaming eyes did see
A sight so sure, it grabbed hold of me
With fingers of gold to touch my heart
Standing fascinated I knew it the start
Like the rays of the sunset burned in my breast
No longer now, I’ve walked to my rest
Men are so reluctant to take on an eye
And look for a miracle in thimble or sky
D.W. Peterson ©1999
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Procrastination
Yesterday’s dreams
Tomorrow’s endeavor
Procrastination today
Like rainy cold weather
Awaiting the starting gun
Someone say go
A head full of dreams
And fruition so slow
Ten years later
Then twenty go by
They say life is over in the blink of an eye
So ponder ye not in frivolous thought
But take every day like the last one you’ve got
D.W. Peterson ©2000
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The Dream
Dreams of wonder and fascination
Beautiful siblings to imagination
Head held high on a windswept field
Arms outstretched as if wings I would wield
Brandishing dreams of heavenly flight
Swept into the sky by the fantasy’s might
Flying free, flying free, in the soft summer sky
Tasting sweet raindrops as a cloud passes by
Lie down in a cloud such a satiny bed
Enjoying the dream as it blows through my head
D.W. Peterson ©2000
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The Game
What goes around, comes around
If you go to town and don’t come down
And all you do is hang around
Who’s the clown in your circus of fools?
The reckless rebel breakin all the rules
Up so high, when you finally come down
Hit face first with your feet on the ground
Down and down, the spiral it goes
Where you end up, nobody knows
Topsy turvy in a tailspin fog
Sniffin round the table of life like a dog
Chase the cat, fat on the rat
Eaten government cheese
And that’s where you’re at
Fat rat on top of the chain
Twistin turnin your pitiful brain
No one knows, no one cares
Except the one who hears your prayers
They all bleed together in a pitiful pot
Cryin for sympathy for what they ain’t got
The fool, the blind man, the simpleton one
Together forever, but separate undone
The madmen in scheming a pitiful shame
The fool and his life soon part in this game
D.W. Peterson ©1999
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The Malady of Prejudice
The world has no room for true genius, only his work
Spurned are the children of wonder and fascination
This social outcast, with his starry eyed gaze
Condemned for his inattentiveness to conversation
As the creative mind strays to unlimited possibilities
Accused of being a loner he is taunted
Further outcast into isolation
If not for the insulation of dreams in which he travels
His soaring soul would crash into a fiery pile of anguish
Set to soar on the wings of endless possibility
He conjures wonderful things
From an endless well of inspiration
He draws forth the water of the soul
Those who taunt him, shall never know
Through jaded lenses cut by a callous society
The true wonders of the soul
Marching in a cookie cutter unison of conformity
These lost souls who berate him for his social dysfunction
They shall never taste the fruit of true wonderment
D.W. Peterson ©1999
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The Rhapsody
The allure of the seduction
Reaching
Tasting
Glazing with desire
As paint yearning for silky soft canvas
Love’s poet utters soft words
Tender kisses to receptive ears
Caressing each other like sand over glass
Anticipation
Every minute hanging in time
As if it were its own eternity
Slowly
Tasting
Teasing
Desire yearning to break its confines
Like a beast in shackles
Hunger unchained
The floodgates of passion break free
Rushing like the tide
Tossed by wave after wave of rapture
Floating into the blissful peace
Under the soft golden sky
D.W. Peterson ©2000
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The Ultimate Loner
The ultimate loner, crushed by the weight of his affliction
Never knowing what it takes to go with the flow
He lies in a tepid pool amidst the rapids
He lives to make a difference
But to what avail?
His fruit dries on the rind in the fall
Uneaten and unheeded
He makes his way through the storm
Buffeting rains come to wash the stain away
Where once he stood, proud and tall
And with a hearty mind
He took flight into the beyond
In search of what cannot be grasped
To clutch his strong hand around it
But like the tree to the wind
Only tickled and teased
Never to succumb to the delight
Frantic
He gives his whole to but one thought
How can this be?
Everything has purpose
Only a fool would deny
But what am I?
A dull steel peg amidst the colored blocks
All neatly finding their niche
And shaming those who hold no place
I am by rights my own unique individual
For I am a rod!
Held together by parts we stand
Without one, it all falls apart
How can you cast such a thing away?
Without a thought of comprehension of what it is
D.W. Peterson ©1999
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Wanting
Incomplete love, give things faces
Realms and places
Estates of time and paradise
Silent soul scribbled the memories
Blackened people with silky voices
Here he wrote love
There only noises
Hot bonded entwined commotion
Hanging timeless
Broken hole
Such twisted thought
Words now comparing cause
Repetition
Reputation
Confusion of crimes
Enter times
Wallow in slime
Love’s distant pining heart
Bruised chortle squeals
Singing symphonies of despair
Bringing past feelings with the passage
Replace time with million year dreams
The eye of hatred on the ravenous mouth of desire
Shall they fan the fire?
Anger burns hot as a funeral pyre
D.W. Peterson ©2000
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When Love Struck
Shall I be returning,
Though thought had taken but one final fading pause?
Approaching my path it became clear,
And still it remains, an imminent barrier.
My dark unknown desire was building.
As the delicious rays of the sun fall through the clearing,
I watch her.
Like sun and moon,
We dance around paradise,
Passions rise like the tide.
I approach her,
Slowly,
Surely,
Knowing that it begins.
Shall time halt?
It must,
Either of will or destiny.
The hot drizzling rain mingles in salty sweat,
Making soft dangerous love.
Her silky embrace full of allure.
For one sweet moment
We are two soaring souls gliding through infinity as one.
D.W. Peterson © 1999
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You
Like dry earth to summer rain
I drink you in, exhale again
Like gasoline to flame
I fill you with desire
As the flames get higher and higher
You know my body
You know my mind
I give you my passion
Leave the world behind
Trapped in a whirlwind state of bliss
A wildfire sparked by a single kiss
Swept away by the winds of love
Flying free to the sea like the wings of a dove
Two souls set free tangled together
As if floating on air
Light as a feather
D.W. Peterson ©2000
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