Spirit (an acrostic poem)

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She looked into the night sky and pondered her place.

Perhaps she was just a gathering of dust on a rocky mote flying through emptiness.

It made her feel small and insignificant,

Refuse of exploded suns long since forgotten in the cosmic background.

If that was it, well, that was still pretty cool.

The fact that her ancestors were ancient suns lightened her soul, and her smile lit up the night.

Loud (an acrostic poem)

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Living life with the volume cranked to eleven

Obliterating reality around him

Until it is all just white noise in the background

Determined that his echo will be heard long after he was gone

Drop (an acrostic poem)

Doesn’t know or care much where her tears may fall

Reaching that point where the pain becomes a baseline, a background

It grays out the world into a monochromatic morass

Punishing her one drop at a time

Enough (an acrostic poem)

Evening faded into the background as he turned up the noise

Nothing special, just something to keep the world from invading

Outside he looked like he was just chilling out

Underneath he was boiling with emotions

Going to blow any minute like one of those geysers

He just couldn’t take it anymore.  Soon the water escaped, but one drop at a time.

 

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