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    Nick Brady
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Poems From Oklahoma - 1. Set 1 - Five Poems

With a modest amount of fear and trembling, I share a few of my poems.

OCTOBER MOON

A orange disk rises in the east
behind tall buildings in the distance.
The moon floats over the darkening earth
and I float with her, drawn into her pale light.

The beauty of the moon does not grow weary
though we may tire of looking at her,
like greedy children glutted on sweets
until our taste grows dull.

We must see the moon from the hunger of our emptiness.
She must surprise us with her perfection
when we do not expect to see her.
Then we take a quick breath and see as if for the first time,
the aching beauty of the silver moon.

RETURN OF THE SUN

Let the sun pierce the dark clouds
and point down with long golden fingers.
Let its light fall on shining rain-soaked fields
and illuminate the shadowed green of earth.

Turn your eyes to the light
and blink at the unaccustomed brilliance.
Watch as the lead-faced sky opens her
dazzling blue eyes and smiles.

NIGHT RAIN

Thunder cannons out of dead silence
and jerks me awake.
Moments later the room is filled
with the sharp smell of ozone.
Damp air glides across my bare skin.

I lie in bed half sleeping,
half listening to the hiss of rain,
Slipping in and out of sleep
like a stone skipping in slow motion
across the shining surface of a lake,
now sliding beneath the surface, now rising up.

The rain whispers to me and I sink deeper into the dark water.

THE SENTRY

The raven’s eye surveys the farm
and guards his flock against all harm
at my approach cries with alarm.

His vigilance forever shows
what every farm boy surely knows
you can’t surprise a bunch of crows.

EDUCATION

When I was a young lad of ten
Knowing totally nothing of sin
A boy from next door
Got me down on the floor
And showed me again and again.

I would love some feedback.
Copyright 2016, Nick Brady
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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A lovely set. I am drawn especially to Night Rain (thunder cannons), and Education is pure fun. A perfect limerick, so it is.

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I can relate very well to the sentiments of October Moon. "She must surprise us with her perfection" is just how I feel when I catch a glimpse of her unexpectedly. At a certain time of year, the moon rises almost dead center with my little street, and walking home from the station after work, she literally has taken my breath away on many occasions.

 

All of the poems are diffuse with the presence of Nature in unsuspecting moments, like the blue eyes of the sky or the bite of ozone in the nostrils.

 

I enjoy these poems of yours :)

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On 05/31/2016 05:55 AM, AC Benus said:

I can relate very well to the sentiments of October Moon. "She must surprise us with her perfection" is just how I feel when I catch a glimpse of her unexpectedly. At a certain time of year, the moon rises almost dead center with my little street, and walking home from the station after work, she literally has taken my breath away on many occasions.

 

All of the poems are diffuse with the presence of Nature in unsuspecting moments, like the blue eyes of the sky or the bite of ozone in the nostrils.

 

I enjoy these poems of yours :)

Thank you very much AC. I am more a writer of fiction than poetry, so am pleased that you enjoyed this. I was driving home to Tulsa from the west one evening, and saw the full moon rising over the city skyline from some distance. From that perspective it looked enormous and was a deep orange. It occurred to me that no many times I have seen the rising moon, it can still take my breath away. If the full moon only rose once in a hundred years, the entire world would watch for it. Seeing it every four weeks, we forget to appreciate its beauty.

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