Desert

The mind is a desert,
Our thoughts are the sand
Moved by the currents
That dance on the land.
They swirl together
As one with the dust;
A tornado of souls
With eyes left untouched.

by Garret Woo

4/8/2019

Past, Present and Future

It is wise to learn from the past
But realize it can’t be changed.
The present holds all we’ve not yet lost
Though its flow can’t be staved:
A moment so brief it can’t be measured,
Like a spark pushing past and future together.
The future dances in the wind
As the wheel of time continues to spin.

by Garret Woo

3/26/2019

King

Horses, gold and castles,
Rooms of treasure to the brim,
Honey-wine by the barrels and food by the fist.
With passions restrained and body able,
He ruled with judgement pure.

Behind that veil of cheerful eyes
His hopes have lost allure.
An abyss of dismal nothing
That darkened clouds obscure.
He has forgotten how to love
And cannot find the cure.

by Garret Woo

3/20/2019

Torch

What would you do if given the torch?
Lead, follow or make your own course?
Would you carry it proudly or find someone who could?
Or make even more torches of fire and wood?
Whatever you do, keep hold of the light:
Do not let it go in the darkness of night.

by Garret Woo

1/29/2019

Night’s Symphony

When the sun is exhausted by the pull of the moon
It loses the power to balance the two.
The wing of a shadow spreads over our eyes
Consuming the earth with secrets untied.
And all of the plotting by darkness contrived
Brings forth the sounds from nature derived.
The noise of the wind through hollowed out trees
Plays ancient notes of the Night’s Symphony.
Ebbing and flowing through leaves of green,
The air fluxes and murmurs in somber routine.
Things in dark places make curious sounds
With skittering feet, around and around.
Until rays of sun through heavens extend;
As quick as it started the Symphony ends.

by Garret Woo

1/18/2019

Fate’s Will

A rational pain has found refuge in me,
Once given to whims but now I can see:
It is acceptance by which destiny thrives
And only Fate’s will which dictates our lives.

So do as you wish for finality’s sake,
As so often the end unexpectedly takes
Our entire existence and all that we’ve done
And drifts into nothing like clouds to the sun.

by Garret Woo

c. 2004

American Sons

American sons for enemy blood,
TVs and hand-grenades, coffee and guns;
Coins show our greedy eyes, blinded by mud,
The horrors of war mistaken for love.
Trust may be bought and is easily sold
Like innocent men sent into the hole.

by Garret Woo

1/14/2019

Sorrow’s Grip

Sorrow’s grip is cruel this evening,
It’s tighter than the usual.
It seems I cannot shake these feelings;
The desperation is mutual.
Thoughts wander through the night
And leave a trackless path,
Like memories I cannot revisit;
Like wheat without the chaff.

by Garret Woo

1/10/2019

Writing Patterns

There seems no specific time for when I decide to write; I’ve been compelled early in the morning, during the midday and late in the evening. I feel creative during times of introspection while away from work. I write in private, either to the sound of cars outside or the low volume of music.

Perhaps practical and brief, my writing style may also be predictable. My poetry, for example, has a more serious tonality where I enjoy using rhyming metaphors that convey ideas succinctly, deeply and uniquely.

Military themes, time and personal conflict seem to be topics of tendency. The connections I am able to create between them and readers’ emotions directly correlates to my ever changing ability as a writer.

Although my actual notebooks and pens will always have their place, I find the greatest ease in using Google Docs on the computer. Two other indispensable tools are an online dictionary and thesaurus. The computer’s ease of accessibility is far more suitable for a forgetful mind with fleeting thoughts.

by Garret Woo

1/11/2019

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