He roams and Other Poems

By Dennis Williams

He roams

He roams the streets by day and by night searching every pile
enraging those that wish him good,
and mourns his loss.
  
The constant wailing pierce the air
 no ear is immune
to his cry 
and the state of his mind.

His lament is at the bus side 
and the pedestrians run to the other side 
everyone is his adversary
he sees no one as a friend.

Afraid to approach even from a mile 
the willing heart scared to death
wishing there was an easier route to his heart 
decorated with dots of love and compassion

I missed his smile,
someone I used to know 
I know I can help, 
the mechanics are my goal.

My damsel

The long lanky shades of the damsel overshadow the empty street
gaining grounds like an occupying force
soul by soul, heart by heart,
forgotten heart lay waste on the roadside.

Sympathy lines her heart,
she plunders for a cause
and seldom seems to be bothered 
when no one applauded.

Her beauty is endearing
its drawing power magnetic
its sneer never miss
too late for those who ignore
a damsel’s rampage.

A gentle voice has her,
so gentle it persuades,
she is a battles scar,
and wins in every encounter
broken heart lying in piles attest to her triumph.

Soon my love will throw down 
the armor of her love and 
many innocent hearts will gather  
on her doorstep, worn.  

Workday

The last worker closed the door and signal the mood, as everyone files out, work is over.
The street wane and mourn while up ahead the stops lights are stuck on red.

Pretty soon lights will illuminate the buildings
as a signal to the sun waiting in the distance 
that workday is done and night draws nigh.

Many must stay on,
and I grieve for those on their way
to keep watch over the haunted workplace.
Patrolling grounds and keeping an eye out for rascals,
battling the element if needs be,
the cold rain and heavy dew.
Making a living is unforgiving.

A radio is playing in the background,
and a book is on the counter to reenergize the brain.
The heated discussion commences with nobody,
to lessen the stress of the night shift.

Snoring cuts the silence 
heard from across the road 
oblivious to the silent movement. 
The steps of the nocturnal creatures crawl on
while his sleep awaits the morn.

A tired body will not refuse
the sleep the nights give nor 
will the body resist the reinvigoration it gets? 
Rest will strengthen a weary body for the vigor of tomorrow.

A restless soul will seek
the solace of a song 
or the warmth of a verse 
of some unknown poet of old 
or his contemporary.

The working man-days have added hours 
the working man night is short
his rest is short and 
erupts as the days draw near.

Then the sweet dream of tomorrow
I will erase and drift away
making space for the toil to come to 
the joy of a new day.

Determine Love

This routine will be the story of my life until you are convinced that my love for you is strong, and the sound of your footstep echoes far and wide. The sun warms my soul and melts my heart and in my mind, I smell your sweet perfume mingling with the gust of the breeze, and the swaying of the leaf nods its acceptance. Till the morn pass and all hopes evaporate my patience will not grow thin nor my endurance wane. Your appearance will appease the longing of my heart. And the angel of love will join the applause to welcome you when you appear.

Dennis is an emerging poet/writer from Sandy Hill, St. Catherine, Jamaica. His writings have been published in Agape Review, the American Diversity Report (ADR), Alchemy Spoon issue #7, the Health Line Zine #1,  The Independent Literary, Adelaide #54, EgoPHobia # 74, and the Livina Press issue # 3, Blue Pepper Magazine, Entropy².