Melina Gunnett

October 2, 2011

Trumpet Day

Filed under: Poetry — Tags: , , , , — Melina Gunnett @ 10:31 PM

In honor of our latest scheduled “Judgement Day”

It boggles my mind how people can claim to follow the Bible and still think they know when Judgement Day will happen.  I guess the missed the part where it says “But of that day and hour knoweth no [man], no, not the angels of heaven, but my Father only.”

Anyway, here is a poem I wrote many years ago.

 

Trumpet Day

Fields of yellow flowers flow

beneath the angels wings

Shining brightly, waiting for

The sound the trumpet brings.

A rush of wind blows across the land

Bring all who’ll come.

The light appears and they are gone.

The trumpets have begun.

The darkness comes for all to see

Who chose to stay behind

Havoc and devastation reign

Man is out of time.

July 28, 2011

Broken

Filed under: Poetry — Tags: , , , , , — Melina Gunnett @ 5:49 PM

I am so tired of being broken

Of waking in tears

Of wondering if anyone really cares

…even me.

This familiar sadness

A worn pair of shoes

I have walked many miles in.

It has become comfortable

…familiar, protective.

I want to reach out,

I want to connect

but beyond the tears there is nothing

…only numbness

I was broken long ago

Each peace shattered by a different hammer.

Some can be pieces can be patched

Fitting together, a mental Jigsaw puzzle.

Others were hammered into dust,

Swept away and given to the wind

How can you fix what you can not find?

July 20, 2011

Alice’s Looking Glass

Filed under: Poetry — Melina Gunnett @ 11:20 PM

When we grow up
What will we do?
Our future spins amass.
Circling around,
Those bright shining faces
Seen through Alice’s looking glass.

We can see our lives
In this great fantasy.
What might have been.
What still can be.
I can feel the changes
Coming over me
I step through…

Alice’s looking glass.

The Queen, she plays.
The Mad Hatter brays.
Shall I join in the fun?
Watch the White Rabbit run.
I’m just a stranger
Peering into their lives
Through Alice’s looking glass.

Someday I know
I’ll be the star of the show
I’ll be the one
Having all of the fun
Then you can watch me
At the Mad Hatter’s tea
Through Alice’s looking glass.

What are the questions?
What are the answers?
Tell me, how do you know?
Confusion surrounds me,
Circling around me.
Please help me, where can I go?
I’m trapped!
In Alice’s looking glass.

In my looking glass…

July 13, 2011

Twilight Dreams

Filed under: Poetry — Melina Gunnett @ 10:09 AM

Shadows fall long across the ground
The last ray of sunlight dances across the sky
It is my favorite time of day
The time for twilight dreams

Streaks of sliver, scarlet, orange
Dance the dance of coming night
The blazing ball of fire departs
It is time for twilight dreams

The day is bright, the night is dark
One stark reality, the other illusion
Each a world of their own
In between is twilight dreams

Where fantasy can live a life
Take a breath and run free
Love and hope can meet
In m twilight dreams

This is my favorite time of day
The time for twilight dreams.

July 6, 2011

My Dear Brother

Filed under: Poetry — Melina Gunnett @ 10:57 AM

Your bring my such sadness, dear brother
To see the bonfire which burned in your soul
Quenched, the last embers doused
With waters of darkness
And by your own hand.
New life, young and tender, like kindling
Brought about a burst of flame
But it too is being put out
By the waters of pain
That flow from your heart.
What will you do when the flame is all gone?
Do you realize how dare the darkness is
With not even a spark to light our way?
For you dear brother, I will hold a spark.
I will keep it burning in the piece of yourself
You trusted to me so long ago
When you dared to call me sister.
I will hold it for hope.
I will hold it for healing.
And when you are ready, my dear brother,
I will return it to you
That your flame may burn again.

June 30, 2011

Empathy

Filed under: Poetry — Melina Gunnett @ 10:44 AM

Impressions of pain
More real than my own
Bring me to the edge of endurance

The tragedies with in me
Which of them are mine?
Which belong to nameless faces in the night.

Oh, to end the pain
And the suffering I know
But that would also end the joy

The warm thoughts from across the room
That spark the air
And ignite my heart

The tender moment
Of a gentle touch
That goes through my soul.

To lose the joy with the pain
That would be the greatest pain of all
For the joy I shall endure

In they joy I will find my peace
And through that peace
I can end my pain.
By bringing joy to the heart from which in came.

June 22, 2011

Disquiet from the Ledge

Filed under: Poetry — Melina Gunnett @ 11:59 AM

He balances on the ledge
A worried look on his face
He doesn’t understand

I steep myself it hot water
Surrounded by vanilla scented bubbles
Luxuriating in the aroma

A plaintive meow
My reclusion is broken
“Please mom, come out!”

His distress is evident
He dare not enter
But he sees the danger

I have fallen into the large water dish
And I have not come out.

June 15, 2011

Takaikabe Mura

Filed under: Poetry — Melina Gunnett @ 2:48 PM

Inspired by Jeff A Menges painting of the same name.

A smoky haze bellows across the auburn sky.
I am all that is left.
It is just me, me and the crows.
Their black plumage a dark contrast against the burning swamp.
They are everywhere.
Perched on overturned cart and corpse alike.
It is all the same to them.
They are just waiting for their dinner to stop smoldering.

Were I willing to look,
I could name the dead who surround me,
Lying face deep in mud,
But I have seen enough blood
I will leave that duty to Yama.

I stab my katana into the frozen ground
And rest my Kabuto on the handle
It no longer matters, but still I cringe as the dirt bites the blade.
The Wakizashi is all I need now.

One last time I look around the field.
It was to be a place of honor, of victory.
Now only death walks between the reeds and forest.

A crow alights upon my helm, watching.
He will be my Kaishakunin.
There is no one else.
Our tattered Nobori dances in the wind as I draw my blade.

April 10, 2011

Tome

Filed under: Poetry — Melina Gunnett @ 11:31 PM

There are reams
And there are dreams
And sometimes there are reams of dreams

There is winding
And there is binding
And occasionally you find a winding binding

If by chance you capture a ream of dreams
And trap it within a winding binding
Then you have a tome worth your time.

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