The Music

The music was there with something afresh
it had found and picked up on the way
Something perhaps
with live music’s lapse
that made it quite special today

Seemed the musicians had put in their all
throwing energy full in the licks
As they could not perform
‘Cos now’s not the norm
so they put all they had in the mix

Tri-haiku XXVIII (Healing)

With no abandon
to a mediocrity
I wait with patience

Hasten the mending
the healing of wounds and ills
Bring back spring to step

For I am waiting
Breath bated, coiled to move
to those hills again

With the sun upon my brow

I’d like to go out walking
but need legs to get me there
and as one’s out of action
and I don’t have a spare
I’m having to make do
with sitting with a smile
as a hobble and a limp is all
I’ll manage for a while

Rocks and shins and A&E

August Bank Holiday Monday
sun is shining and it’s warm
so to the beach I should be heading
as you would ‘cos it’s the norm
Yet instead I sit in A&E
my leg still causing pain
Not my first choice I’ll admit
to be in here again
Strangely though it was the beach
just last Wednesday night
where I sustained the injury
the reason for my plight

Adaptation

Adaptation is a precious thing
as it proves that we are able
to make the very best of things
when cards are on the table
I speak of course of Covid
and the lockdown and the change
it’s brought worldwide to all of us
as we all re-arrange
There’s been loss and there’s been sadness
as the pandemic’s taken hold
taking toll from everyone
from young to very old

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