transoceanic to sounds of violence


the ocean's waters lay silent, dormant even; as from these fears that
dwell inside my tears, that gracefully but gently fall onto this photograph.

for this patriot is falling into blue waters, while admiring blue skies;
as tasting the sound that infests violence, while bleeding for two...
i am all but part of none, just as i miss and cherish the sound...
the sound of her small feet running to greet the morning...
i'm reminded of all that i tried for, and what im now dying for...
im dying for her smile which gave me everything;
the need in which to live in the eternity of her remembrance...

i don't know, but it seems i've grown to love my five story love school...
greeting each morning with a inverted scalpel to the thought of it all...

with this photograph remaining intact in my pocket and her
ring bearing so close to the chambers of my heart, it somehow
brings about an inspiration; a passion for all that i am...

tomorrow will soon be yesterday; and then it will seem as
it was only on that fateful morning, that the sky and since fallen...

by: thomas hooper

by request of the author, no words are capitalized in any of his poems