Hunter

What was once the blue blue
skyline has paled to royal skin.

I want to call you, but it’s
just an option I can’t swallow.

Somehow splendor spilled across
the yard, yet I’m on the porch.

My feet tremble when I think of running
the fields again where hunters tread.

Is it fear, or anticipation of the violent
breakout my head has planned?

I am still a hunter and I still look for
the highs, hidden in pockets of discovery.

Are you warm inside, or will the cold
cripple you? I am pulsing, I’m alive.

Like I got on that plane, I’ll take the steps
to reclaiming the hunter I fell in love with.

Tussled, and crooked but perfect in the
design that everlasting hands molded.

Strength

The strength of the gentle
knows no bounds nor would
it acknowledge bounds as
anything of importance.

The worth of the loving
cannot be measured in means
of tangible material, nor would
it ever need validation.

The beauty of the patient
rolls over every available
crevice in the kind eyes of
the patient; it is true beauty.

Kindness is the ever soft
song of hope and redemption
in a world so easily afraid
of each shadow that follows.

Son, remember that one needs
not guard their soul, for each soul
could ascend to celestial brightness,
and no stars should suffer withholding.

When the plagues steal your rest,
it will be unending love that gives
you the strength to climb back to
heaven’s highest heights.

You are never alone, for love
hides from none and chases all.
If even one flame lights the dark
then the sun can be rekindled.

Update

I apologize to all of my followers. I have been extremely slacking in posting anything lately. To catch up I'll start posting maybe a poem a day... we'll see. Anyhow, I started a new blog "Selling in Hell". It's a much different direction for me, but alas my poetry shouldn't suffer for it. I hope you guys can forgive me for being such a terrible blogger, but I shall start making it up to you by posting a new poem tonight! I hope you guys continue to read and enjoy An Ohmu Speaks.

-Hunter

Angels and the Ocean

I met an angel just last year,
he told me that things just
can’t stay the same and I nodded
as we walked between red trees.

He always held a marble in his
right hand and told me not to forget
the little things, but I knew better
when the little things forgot him.

I have been drenched by life’s
rogue waves and pulled beneath the surf
more times than I can count, but the
times I’m on top are worth the fight.

We all run circles on a giant sun dial
chasing the evanescent hours of daylight.
Then when night time comes
we chase our dormant dreams.

Angels are just like us, because they
once walked here. Never sure of anything,
but the hands of father guide us all
into spectacular and terrifying lucidity.

Forgot

As I spoke to her, the hands,
the ones that used to pat my head,
moved around of their own accord
primping disheveled wedding white hair.

Zoe never complains, and fancies herself
a queen in that hollow nursing home.
She stills has nails of deep red and
wears night gowns with flowers galore.

But Zoe reads the first page over and over,
because her decaying mind can’t remember.
Flowers, books, stuffed animals, ornaments,
cards, and me surround her crisp full sized bed.

I wonder if she’ll remember my visit, but
she called me by name so I know that in those
old brown eyes recognition has yet to ghost.
She’ll surely tell the old hens about her beloved nephew.

I ache for Zoe, I guess because she feels no pain.
Nestled in her lap are her weathered hands,
and as she stares out the window I muse about
if her days of glory come gently streaming back.

One Road

One road ahead in an autumn wood,
And five hands behind with fingers “should”.

But these shoes are mine that walk this path,
and what I do is on my behalf.

If love is my light then what is my need
for power, or money, or lust , or greed?

I chose now to start my path anew,
and part these brambles that grow askew.

With a burning warmth within my soft eyes
I’ll make a way here of my own device.

Swiftly carve this, my trail, clean and true,
because living for them I can’t do.

Now I walk my own self-deliverance,
and THAT has made all the difference.

Take Me

Take me somewhere with
endless waves of green grasses.
I want the fingers of the
breeze to stroke my naive face.

Let the sky be an azure mirror
upon which birds lazily drift.
Now, put me to rest between two mountains
in a valley fit for one.


When I awake from my rest may
the sun cause shadows to dance
all around my bed of lavish moss in
shapes of beings wild and free.

Take me to solitude unlike any other.
Give me rest in the heart of the wild,
where water is free to lope and trees are
old enough to remember the first rising moon.

The glaze of humanity won’t taint this place
and the colors here will blush before me.
Flowers will make a carpet of riches and
even the mushrooms will drip with vibrancy.

I close my flickering eyes and
a silent hand lifts me gently aloft.