19 February 1974

The knock at the door
I remember it well
though forty-six years have now passed
The vicar right there
with something to share
for a slap in the face that would last

It was anger I felt
with a fist in the air
that my father had left in that way
And I heard not a sound
from that hole in the ground
as I stood on that February day

Breathe

I saw the end of the tunnel
It shouted my name
So I ran to the light
and found freedom again

And breathing in deep
that heavenly air
I shouted out loud
and laughed without care

HE HELD MY HEART IN HIS HAND

By Charles Robert Lindholm

My Heart
Had Been Shattered
With Pieces
Scattered
Everywhere
In My Life

Brightening

Just a few words is all it takes
to change the way I feel
Escapism? maybe sometimes
but they have the power to heal

Just a few words each morning
finds a way to say
something new to bring a smile
and brighten up my day

On a Hill in Wales, Father and Son

1.

To the beginning son, go back with me
Remember how I stood beside you when…

No, you only remember my absence.

Here we return with precision, an arrow
Fired by the great Tell who reveals us.
The apple on our heads, the gift of Eve
Who saw in us the beginning of Love.

If You Could Break Me

If you could break me
how many pieces would you strive for?

A split in two,
have me broken down into fourths,
a complete s h a t t e r i n g –

HER MOSAIC HEART

By Charles Robert Lindholm

He Left Her
With Her Heart
In Pieces On The Floor
Shattered In The Moment
He Said, “I Don’t Love You Anymore”

She Sat Alone In Darkness,
In Silence And With Tears
And Finally Found The Pieces
She Had Searched For Through The Years

She Rescued All The Pieces
Left Lying On The Floor
Her Heart’s No Longer Fragile
It’s Stronger Than Before

WRITING POETRY

By Lesley Kluchin and Charles Robert Lindholm

“Writing poetry

is the best therapy for

POETRY AS THERAPY

By Lesley Kluchin and Charles Robert Lindholm

A Broken Heart Needs

Poetry as therapy

Time doesn’t heal some wounds…

“Time heals griefs and quarrels, for we change and are no longer the same persons. Neither the offender nor the offended are any more themselves.”

                                                                         – Blaise Pascal

It doesn’t hurt anymore, for that I must thank you,

Though forgetting promises has become part of you,

BLURRED MEMORIES

By Charles Robert Lindholm

Memories replayed
that were joyful
and exciting
and fun
stay
in focus

#47 POETRY =

#47 POETRY =

By Charles Robert Lindholm 

Poetry =

#33 POETRY =

By Charles Robert Lindholm 

Poetry =

Counting the days II

I’m not past my prime
yet sometimes I feel
it takes longer these days
to recover and heal

And I know that the sun
should help me feel well
But sometimes it seems
very much the hard sell

So I think what I need
is a break well away
A bit of a rest and
a nice holiday

Birth of a Friendship

Great misunderstanding
Even greater mistake
Lies

Just As I Am

Just as I am, my broken heart
To give You the whole, and not just part.

Broken Vessel

A Cinquain on Brokenness and Healing

Broken
Empty vessel

MY WORN AND TATTERED HEART

By Charles Robert Lindholm

forlorn and forgotten
like refrigerator art
once you vowed to love me
but now we live apart

A FAVOR

—-MEMORIES OF THE PAST—-
By Charles Robert Lindholm

it’s really quite a favor
though at times it’s hard to see
it took awhile to see the light
when the message came to me

A Poem to Celebrate Birth

Like a baby thinks
before he understands words,
when he emerges from the womb
and suckles his first nipple

his tired mother whose fatigued body
still aching with pain where she felt
unbridled passion release in waves
and tremors through her flesh

My Heart Hurts

 

The last few years have been strangely visited by the passing of so many friends, their parents, their spouses, their children, their best lifelong friends. When you go through such a loss it helps knowing you have friends, family, and God to turn to when the pain is overwhelming and just too much to bear.  However, there are many lonely nights where it is just you and God, sharing the burden of loss.

My Heart Hurts

Waking up this morning with life’s plans rolling along.

With children, family, and friends in their places where they belong.

Hearing that my cousin has cancer drove me to my knees in pain.

My friend called to say her granddaughter has a tumor on her brain.

A fragile morning

A fragile morning found me
fragile that I am
and gently took me to the day
to prove it was no sham
I leant upon its shoulders
It supported me right there
and showed me a bright sunrise
as I squinted in the glare

Acrostic Poem – Reason

Poetry challenge: Acrositc poem.



Repeated deepening of open wounds,

Echoing the sorrow within.

Anguish, heart sinking.

Seeking Power

Music days

On days when it’s raining
my music will play
From the time I awaken
’til the end of the day

Take Care of Each Other

Take care of each other.
Whether there be Father or Mother,
Take care.

You will collide with each other.
You will inflict wounds and be wounded.

Blood One

Bloodworm of my heart you feed on
Bloodmeal, bloody meat, tarantulas whose bodies
Sing in whistles whilst they smoke and die.

As a mahogany seed you birthed into the bloodwood tree,
Your bloodline a thin, red ribbon, crossing over the moor.

Upon Some Other Shore

Next to me is a pillow with a hole I can not fill.
The chill of Memory empties her cup.

It never comes. The fruit rots before the ripening.
The darkness arrives before the dawn and light.

Today Someone Dies

Ten years ago I saw someone die.
A thin beatless heart tugged from an outlet; there was
Singing, a high aria reverberating throughout the cave.
We all tipped and tipped as darkness
Slipped and slipped,
Waking us from the stupor of a life
Trapped in an hour,
Waving flags we had made
Lives and lives prior.
I never saw that room again. Never laid
A rose in it.