This column is dedicated to one of the highest art forms in the sphere of human communication—Poetry. Nothing is nobler than the expression of human emotion. All poetry is perfect, no matter what the format or the background of the poet. A voice is a voice. With poetry, you get more than words. You get rhythm, you get sound, you get silence, you get mood—you get emotion. What more can you ask? This column is also dedicated to all the people who have ever lived, those here now, and those yet to come. God bless the poets among you. They carry the soul of the world.Contact us if you would like to share your poems.
Haunting MemoryNew poetry from Howard Wand...
When I was just a boy of nine
I stole a dollar from my dad
Took all my friends for ice cream
But the ice cream tasted bad
It didn’t have that sweetness
Although it only cost a dime
Cause it was bought with money
And the money wasn’t mine.
Yes, it may sound a bit bizarre
Or it might even seem unreal
The lesson we all must learn
Is that a child should not steal.
It stayed with me through all the years
There on the back roads of my mind
I never took another cent
Or a thing that was not mine
It happened a long ago
Perhaps I should not feel so sad
But one thing to remember
Is you never steal from dad.
I gave a lot to charities
And I gave freely of my time
But nothing seemed to help me
And true peace was hard to find.
Served God and my country proudly
Shed my blood in a far off land
Even then it haunted me,
Crawling through the desert sand.
Perhaps in my final moment
When the flickering light goes dim
The Lord will smile upon me
And will wash away my sin.
I hope that when I see my dad
He will smile and will understand
The guilt of what I did at nine
Helped me be a better man.
Current and past articles from the Poetry is Perfect: More than Words
(Copyright – Howard Wand)