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"Poems From a Silent Voice"


Chapter 1
Another Soldier Died Today

By Warren Rodgers

Another soldier died today
I went to work, I always do
Though all his dreams and plans gave way
I did not see him fall, did you?

Dress blues approached his boyhood's door
I asked my boss reward my worth
His father cursed the bloody war
And felt the deepest pain on Earth

His mother wept throughout the night
The traffic caused me much delay
His body caught the final flight
He counted in the stats today

He quietly escaped the war
I did not catch the evening news
Fulfilling duty that he swore
Would not fall victim to his views

A soldier found eternal rest
I'll sleep well past the rising sun
His sacrifice makes me feel blessed
That soldier could have been my son...


Author Notes I tried something a little different in this poem. The second line of each quatrain refers to the day from the speaker's point of view. The other lines speak about the soldier and events around his life. a-b-a-b rhyming scheme throughout each quatrain. Minimal punctuation has been used.
Thank you for reviewing and have a great day!

Many thanks to Loyd Taylor for the beautiful photo.


Chapter 2
Turn the Page

By Warren Rodgers

A young boy once but now a man,
in need of help to quell his rage.
When captured in his early teens,
they counseled him then turned the page.

Compulsions of the vilest kind
consumed him when he came of age.
A tempest brewed and grew inside,
though justice knew, they burned the page.

One girl of nine will never grow
to live her dreams of center stage -
for evil raped and killed one day
as he would write her final page.

Her dreams cut down, his rights remain.
She's buried now, he's in a cage,
and silently we wonder why -
but all we do is turn the page ...

Author Notes My rhyme scheme is a little different a-b-c-b, d-b-e-b, f-b-g-b, h-b-i-b. The last line of each quatrain repeats the rhyming word "page". Written in iambic tetrameter (8 syllable lines).

This poem is based on a true story which happened in my hometown, on the street where I grew up, just two blocks away. The now 25 year old man pleaded guilty this week to the crime and will spend his life in jail. But still my questions remain. If you take this story back to the young boy needing help but never getting the help and of course the young girl becoming his innocent victim, it is a huge failure and a double tragedy. I posted a poem about this when it happened about a year ago called "A Girl Of Nine".

Thank you for reading and reviewing!

Thanks to Flight_of_Raven for the beautiful photo.


Chapter 3
Relic

By Warren Rodgers

 

I came upon a splintered shell
expelled from long before.
Her skeleton of battered boards
said she would sail no more.

Imagination rode the waves
beneath her blooming sails.
Magnificent from stem to stern,
decked out in fine details.

I saw no signs of her demise,
or records of remorse.
No diaries of destiny
no charts to trace her course.

I heard no clapping clouds roll in
with drums of discontent.
No mutterings of mutiny,
no longings or lament.

My wonder crested on her wake,
then died with her on shore.
For all my thoughts were shattered shells
and washed-up tales of yore.

But as I splashed through sea-soaked sands
and waves lapped her to sleep,
I knew she never would reveal
the secrets she still keeps.
 

Author Notes I found this picture then wrote a poem about it. abcb rhyming scheme in 8/6 syllable count using iambic meter. I hope you enjoy. Thank you for reading and reviewing. - Rodger




Chapter 4
Without a Spoken Word

By Warren Rodgers


I saw the shades of sorrow soak his eyes.
My hesitance to comfort seemed absurd.
As I drew near a stranger passing-by,
the moment died without a spoken word.

When distance stretched between his path and mine,
reflections in my heart were quickly stirred.
As sorrow's vines wound tight and intertwined -

the moment died without a spoken word.

My mind excused confusion in my soul
as reason why my voice was never heard.
Convinced I would be burdened by some toll,
the moment died without a spoken word.

I saw the shades of sorrow soak his eyes,
the moment died without a spoken word.

 

Author Notes I guess we all have moments like this that we may have regretted later. Thank you for reading and reviewing! Have a great day, Rodger


The Kyrielle Sonnet is a format which uses a repeating final line for each quatrain. In addition, the format has a final rhyming couplet which is composed of the first and last lines of the beginning quatrain. The rhyme scheme can be either AabB, ccbB, ddbB, AB or as I have chosen in my poem; AbaB, cbcB, dbdB, AB. The Kyrielle Sonnet is usually written in iambic tetrameter (8 syllables per line). But I've written this one in Iambic pentameter (10 syllables per line).

Many thanks to dodgement for the great photo to accompany my poem, entitled "Like Passing Ships in the Night".


Chapter 5
Sand and Sailboats

By Warren Rodgers

I see a sailboat change her tack
to catch the ocean’s bristling breeze. 
As waves wash in, the sea draws back,
my breathing slows, my soul’s at ease.   
 
Encumbered with what dusk demands,
I squint to see beyond these sands.
By grace, someday, I’ll reach the shore
where beauty beams forevermore.

 

Author Notes Thank you to everyone who reads and/or reviews my poem. Have a great rest of the weekend. Rodger :)

Many thanks to supergold of FanArtReview for the wonderful photo.

A huge thank you to the contest committe for choosing my poem to tie for second place. I am honored to be chosen along with writers who I admire very much.
THANK YOU~!


Chapter 6
Morning Mist

By Warren Rodgers


One golden chain around her neck
and locket for her lonely trek,
to bear a mother's deepest pain -
around her neck, one golden chain.

Before the day, her joy was clear;
the girl she bore and held so dear
was hers to love and shape like clay -
her joy was clear, before the day.

To school one morn, a madman came
and snuffed her daughter's glowing flame.
As if she never had been born -
a madman came to school one morn.

In morning's mist, a bus slips by -
behind the pane, her tears reply.
Her home no longer on the list -
a bus slips by in morning's mist.

Through winter's cold a mother weeps
without the girl her locket keeps
for budding dreams that won't unfold -
a mother weeps through winter's cold.

 

Author Notes The Swap Quatrain Poem was created by Lorraine M. Kanter. It is basically a quatrain poem with a rhyming pattern of aabb, ccdd, etc The unique feature about a swap quatrain comes in the first and fourth lines of each stanza. The first line is reversed in the fourth line. So the first part of line 1 becomes the second part of line four, and the second part of line 1 becomes the first part of line 4. The end rhymes are not supposed to repeated throughout the subsequent stanzas. My information was gleaned from shadowpoetry.com

This is the second swap quatrain I've written in the last few weeks.
Thanks to Google images for the photograph and thank you for reading and reviewing. - Rodger

8/26/2014 Many thanks to voters in the Poem of the Month contest for my 3rd place finish. Congratulations to Sandra Mitchell for winning the contest with her fantastic poem and to all the poets in the competition.


Chapter 7
Fragile Film

By Warren Rodgers

 

Like fragile film that flickers on a screen,
the light of youth disperses in the dust,
yet I, the steadfast keeper of routine,
still long for times when days were more robust.

Re-living scenes when I was much adored - 
the universe was magical and kind;
now frozen in the frames; a past restored, 
to watch in lonely halls within my mind.

But when I grant my youth too much acclaim,
it glares upon the path and blinds my sight,
although the past will never find refrain, 
it shall not dull my future's golden light.

Though youth will be my star of matinees,
I'll try the trails beyond my yesterdays. 



 

Author Notes Thank you for reading and reviewing my poem and have a great day!

I extend my thanks and appreciation to the contest committee for choosing my poem to finish first in the site sonnet contest! I am elated with their decision! Thank you!!!!!

- Rodger


Chapter 8
Sip the Morning Dew

By Warren Rodgers


The morning dew slid slowly down the glass
then caught the wind that sliced across the steel.
I wondered if the drops would clutch the grass
or splatter on the road behind my wheel.

I had no time to daydream at my will.
so on I pressed the pedal neath my sole,
the roaring engine scaled a sleepy hill
then calmed and coasted down a gentle knoll.

I had not planned to be with you today,
until the sun came cracking through the blind -
much like the dawn when you were whisked away,
and those before, still weighing on my mind.

I reached the tiny church and sprawling trees
then walked the grassy path to where you are,
as dried-up leaves were stirring memories
and broken rays were blinding brilliant stars.

My hands began to braille your silent stone,
my voice released your name with no reply.
The sorrow I had harbored to atone,
was shed on grassy blades to say goodbye.

In solitude, I searched these quiet grounds
but you no longer lingered in the breeze,
you must have sailed beyond my earthly bounds
reminding me I've dwindling days to seize.

I turned to go, then glancing back I knew,
without your name, the stone was but a stone,
and though your love's a sip of morning dew,
in all my days, I'll face the sun, alone.
 



 

Author Notes Just a little something that came out tonight, I hope you enjoy my poem and thank you for reading and reviewing.




Chapter 9
The Little Boy

By Warren Rodgers

A little boy peered out from his disguise
Intrigued by all the wares he saw displayed
With boyish wonder searching from his eyes
Recalling memories he'd never trade

The clerk then asked could she help him decide
Inside, he thumbed through chapters old and grayed
A wrinkled smile was all that he replied
Recalling memories he'd never trade

The treasures harkened back through golden times
When life was slow and happiness homemade
Departing with his cane, the doorbells chimed
Recalling memories he'd never trade

A little boy peered out from his disguise
Recalling memories he'd never trade.

Author Notes The form of this poem is a modified Kyrielle Sonnet. It is usually written in Iambic tetrameter but I have modified it to iambic pentameter. The last line of the first stanza is repeated as the last line of each four-line stanza. The closing couplet comes from the first and last lines of the first stanza. The rhyme scheme is usually: AabB ccbB ddbB AB OR (as I have written my poem) AbaB cbcB dbdB AB.
I am also using minimal punctuation in my poem.

Many thanks to avmurray for he beautiful artwork.


Chapter 10
The Old Bicycle

By Warren Rodgers


He grabbed the bars and fumbled through the gears
then checked the chain and squashed into the seat,
his eyes shone brighter, peeling back the years,
with old brown shoes now laced around his feet.

He rattled down the lane that split the field
to ride the maze of golden corn and wheat,
out past the pond where dreams were once revealed,
with old brown shoes now laced around his feet.

Recalling youth when times were more robust,
where friends held hands and love knew no defeat.
His moistened eyes soon blinked away the dust,
with old brown shoes now laced around his feet.

He grabbed the bars and fumbled through the gears,
with old brown shoes now laced around his feet.

 

Author Notes The form of poetry poem is a Kyrielle Sonnet. It is usually written in Iambic tetrameter but I have modified it to iambic pentameter. The last line of the first stanza is repeated as the last line of each four-line stanza. The closing couplet comes from the first and last lines of the first stanza. The rhyme scheme is usually: AabB ccbB ddbB AB OR (as I have written my poem) AbaB cbcB dbdB AB.

Many thanks to soiphotography for the terrific artwork.

And thank you for reading and reviewing my poem! - Rodger


Chapter 11
Notes to Derrick

By Warren Rodgers


I walked the sandy beach on Father's Day,
as I had done most every dawn that week.
The summer sun, escaping from the sea,
arose to send its rays and warm my cheek.

In searching scattered shells that washed ashore,
I saw a bottle shimmer in the sun.
I pulled the tiny cork that held inside
two wrenching notes that left my heart undone.

The first was from a daughter to her dad,
whose sudden death was just one year ago.
She thanked him for the times she'll not forget,
and how she missed his love that helped her grow.

The second was to Derrick,  from his wife,
expressing how she longed for times back when
his tender touch and loving warm embrace
were feelings that may never rise again.

Their glowing words were flowing off each page
on paper dated just one day before.
I wished that I could pen some magic words 
and reunite their hurting hearts once more.

But I could never find one word to write
to comfort them along their narrow way,
for every passage thought of, sounded trite
and paled beneath the brilliant sun's array.

I wondered if they watched it drift beyond
the quiet tides that soak these ageless sands?
Or did they toss it on the cresting waves
and leave it to the whim of  fate's commands?

I rolled the notes and waded through the tide,
then let it go to Derrick with a prayer -
a man I did not know until that day
I walked the sand at dawn and found him there.


 

Author Notes This is written from an experience I had while on vacation a few weeks ago when I found notes in a bottle along the beach. Both were for a man named "Derrick" one from his daughter, the other from his wife. Apparently Derrick had passed away about a year ago unexpectedly.

Have you ever found a message in a bottle? If you did or if you should, what did
or would you do?

Photograph was taken by yours truly, it displays a little blurry when uploaded.

Written in Iambic pentameter with abcb rhyme scheme.

Thank you for reading my poem, I hope you enjoyed it.
- Best wishes, Rodger


Chapter 12
September's Song

By Warren Rodgers


When autumn breezes stir and groan
and bending branches scratch and sway,
without you here, I watch alone,
as drifting leaves perform ballet.
The air was crisp in dawn's array,
that Sunday morn our world went wrong.
ten years ago you slipped away,
when I still loved September’s song.
 
I’m walking through the cold unknown;
my path is dark - in disarray,
I hear the season’s mournful tone,
with bitter notes in constant play.
At times I stop to kneel and pray.
When I was weak, you made me strong;
your optimism lit my way
when I still loved September’s song.
 
Sometimes I feel I must atone
for praises that I failed to say,
but now your name is etched in stone
and I’m a quiet castaway.
I wish I could just fly away  
from sorrow that does not belong,
my thoughts thumb back to fonder days -
when I still loved September’s song.
 
My recollections fade and fray,
like poems left unread too long;
our time remains a sweet bouquet
when I still loved September’s  song.

 

Author Notes It's hard for me to believe but this month it will be ten years since breast cancer took my dear wife just a few weeks short of her 49th birthday. This poem is written to honor her life and her beautiful spirit.


The format of my poem is called a Ballade.
It's a French form, written in four verses. The first three verses usually have eight lines each, while the fourth verse, called an envoi, has four lines. All four verses end with the same refrain line. The rhyme scheme is; ababbcbc, ababbcbc, ababbcbc, bcbc. It is usually written in iambic meter and can be written in iambic pentameter, where each line has ten syllables, or, as my poem is written, in iambic tetrameter where each line has eight syllables. Since the form has 28 lines and just three unique rhymes, it is important to make sure there are many words that will rhyme with your chosen words and still convey your message.

Many thanks to cleo85 for the beautiful artwork and to you for reading and reviewing my poem.

Have a great day... Rodger :)



Chapter 13
Beyond the Bond

By Warren Rodgers

Author Note:to my daughter Amanda

I stepped into your life when you were nine,
Down Syndrome made you special right from birth,
your speech was poor, you mostly spoke in sign

 but now I know that angels live on Earth.  
 
I feel I’ve known and loved you all my life
though I was not your dad when you were born,
I loved your mom then she became my wife,
till Heaven stole our hearts one Sunday morn.
 
You’ve worked so hard and now your time has come,
to spread your love and thrive beyond the nest
I’m happy for the woman you’ve become
For, like your mom, with you, I have been blessed!
 
I’m sure her spirit leads you still today 
her presence shows in everything you do,  
I wrote this simple poem just to say,
I've treasured every day I spent with you.
 
Perhaps it’s one more step in God’s great plan
to show love grows beyond the bond of blood,
It glows within the heart of this old  man,
whose tears tonight are flowing like a flood.
 
I love you to the stars and back, my dear
and will, if I should live a thousand years!

 

Author Notes special thanks to V. Marguerite for her wonderful artwork!

My daughter has decided to live with her aunt and nana. I respect her decision as I find it more difficult each year to give her the proper attention she deserves. She'll be just an hour away and will have a room wherever I live, and be a frequent visitor to her home base.

Her and her mom had this thing when they would say goodbye to each other, where one would try to top the other starting with "to the moon and back" and growing progressively further away, thus the final couplet of my poem.

Thank you for reading and reviewing. Have a great day! Rodger

If you choose to view the 2 1/2 minute video prepare to be touched by some amazing individuals. My daughter does not appear in the video.



Chapter 14
Blue Sunrise

By Warren Rodgers


Blue sunrise wakes the sleepy seas,
a tranquil breeze
caresses all
where waves enthrall.   

Horizon stirs my thoughts of you 
through veils of blue 
that search the sands.
Where loving hands

once soothed my skin and held my soul 
before the toll 
of love's deep sighs
and sad goodbyes.

 

Author Notes Thank you for readinng/reviewing my poem. I hope you enjoy and have a great day or night wherever you are on our big blue marble! - Rodger

A thank you goes out to Terri Fors of FanArtReview for providing the wonderful image called "Atlantic ocean".


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