Food for Thought-Just to Watch Him Die

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I shot a man in Reno
just to watch him die,
or was it his time to go,
the object of my mental torture,
for a train traveling slow,
through the blue canyons,
down the confined slopes,
where the birds gently hum,
come home to Folsom,
your life has begun,
in the four walled cell,
some call hell,
what have you done?

-Richard Bryant

Food for Thought-JMW Turner Comes to Ocracoke (A Haiku Series)

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J. M. W. Turner: Stormy Sea Breaking on a Shore, 1840-1845

 

Has Turner come here?
Painting by the Silver Lake,
Clouds and ice are near.

But where can I go?
Land hides from my blurred vision,
In the waves I drown.

Pulled from the current,
Cold horizon beckons home,
Breathe free, brown and green.

-Richard Bryant

Food for Thought-Hiroshima Haiku Quintet

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Light sound shadow falls
Falling ash covers my soul
Ground zero burns me

Screams fall from the air
Skin hangs from our bodies too
Red clouds never go away

Plane drops small black bomb
Time stops on Earth and above
Mourning noon and night

Love still walks about
Bandages wrap our new pain
Have you seen my home

War comes home today
I cannot fight the red sky
Glory dreams die hard

-Richard Bryant

Food for Thought-Bringing My Grandmother Into Epiphany

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The gifts we bring into the room,
are not ours to give,
three glittering boxes,
were given to Him,
now presented to you,
in impromptu ceremonies,
by hastily assembled cribs,
the gold of time,
the frankincense of love,
the myrrh of wisdom,
laid by our feet,
near the kitchen table,
where my grandmother stood,
stained apron,
hands with calluses covered,
she gave me these gifts,
and caused me to belong,
in a house surrounded,
by dirt,
gravel,
and the whistling sounds,
of the afternoon train,
rolling it’s forgotten way,
east, through tobacco fields,
and pine trees,
this is the place,
where I learned to be me,
surrounded by the symphony,
of late afternoon peace,
her story,
told in Earth refined grace,
I am what I have become,
because of this place,
sweetened by the sugar,
left slightly ajar,
pickled by the vinegar,
kept in the mason jar,
This is my story,
my song,
It will never end,
the memories move,
on and on, again.

-Richard Bryant

Food for Thought-The Prophet Speaks

JohnTheBaptist

The prophet speaks,
and people weep,
they travel far,
past the bazaars,
into the heat,
waiting by river,
they cool their feet,
then John comes,
to say his peace,
about one greater,
a marked increase,
beyond what he can do,
more than water,
a Holy Spirit,
which works like glue,
permeating your soul,
steering clear of the shoals,
binding your scars,
wherever they are,
still we wait,
the one who comes,
can’t be far.

–Richard Bryant

Food for Thought-Anger, Reason, Apathy and Passion

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Anger, reason, apathy and passion,
Reason impels one reaction,
Being, time, and actions feel,
As the embodiment of our will,
Impassioned questions we cannot ask,
Surrender this reality to our past,
Beyond the ancient deeds of mortal man,
The essence we know lies at hand,
Now is the day when time surrenders,
Hope is born and mortality rendered.

–Richard Bryant