By Gerard Kuc
Edited through Gerard Kuc, this can be an anthology of poems written via participants from all over the world of an internet team, The modern Poet Guild. it is a nonprofit paintings to assist in giving them the popularity their paintings merits.
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Additional resources for Along Lighted Alleys: an anthology
Com. Silence The silence lingers here I again find myself speechless in your presence The vastness, the unknown If only you would let your guard down But no Instead we talk of sob stories yet never tell Fear of love for pity's sake Or fear of knowledge with another You did speak once and I stood enthralled Bond built to be broken Searching for strength to stand together It's easier to stand alone Who to narrate this tragedy Best the voice of the writer So his discontent and pain shine through But he just nods and sends me off Doesn't care why I might want to know So I find myself dancing circles around you again This time it is to get your attention No need to make myself dizzy anymore Still mute I long to ask for your story Quietly I pray you see me here, tell me on your own But I must admit I'm wearing thin I'm not even sure why I'm still here I've asked for little, I've gotten less But I wait and I hope and I linger with the silence Gerard Kuc Along Lighted Alleys Page 34 Sunday Morning Blue On days like this, the feeling of pen on paper is enough to keep me going… Keep me up long enough to avoid waking on Sunday morning, searching for you Just the thought triggers your voice in my head And I have to wonder what it is about Sunday morning That causes me to wake thinking of you… Look over expecting to see blue eyes… Expecting you to start talking… Sometimes I swear I can still smell you on the pillow I find avoidance in the motion… Solace in my need for movement.
But he plays on unaware his song is fading, Or that his love has glimpsed time's curse. Gerard Kuc Along Lighted Alleys Page 24 THE WORD We learn to read and all is well and good. Then we get ill from a need to know and find newspapers, Dime store novels, Biographies, Even essay anthologies. However, we soon find that these reduce to a handful of lines – All else is filler. Thus poetry enters our lives as more than doggerel. Eventually even poetry leaves us flat, When we hear the same colors over and over ad nauseum.
He wasn't doing nothing *************************************** its another day in the 'row everybody was busy everybody was working today is the day he'll meet his fate the foreman came to take him away where is he, look for him check his cell, check is bed he has been lazy he's been doing nothing today is the day, the law has set where is he, where's the sloth he wasn't doing nothing he was hanging he was dead Gerard Kuc Along Lighted Alleys Page 28 who do i worship I'm confused who do i worship what do i worship worship XA, god of thunder XA is made of wood wood can be burnt by fire worship fire fire is an element it can be killed with water worship water i cannot worship water it comes from rain worship rain rain is a child the child of the clouds worship the clouds the clouds are fickle they can be driven by wind worship wind wind is prosaic it comes from the lungs of men then worship man I am man i cannot worship myself I'm confused who do i worship what do i worship Gerard Kuc Along Lighted Alleys Page 29 The unreal >>To HIM that is destined to rule the netherworld<< Before there is, there was Before the real, was the unreal He existed, before He was created In the chasm of the cosmos between the Then and the Now Moving like a shadow with no origin It swirls through the thread of time Bringing terror Bringing fear Whispers of its essence curdles the heart He existed in a world unseen in a world uncharted His coming was inscribed below the foundation of the bottomless pit, In the depth of the abyss, In the cradle of Armageddon His birth was foretold By an army of tongueless souls Whose cry rebounded around the corners of the xerverse A word for the wise He is close So so close, Closer than you will ever believe He is coming ...