Days of Past

We stand by those we trust,
All the while they transgress against us.
Friend or foe to behold?
For only they will surely know.

Trust someone in this day and age
Is nothing more than a noble cliché.

Slanderous words of dishonesty,
Destroying your character with their brutality.
The world believes them as they lie,
Who can one trust in this earthly enterprise?

Longing for the days of old
When men were men, as good as gold.

I long for days where a handshake meant
Your word was your bond, and honor felt.
Agreements made without paper convention;
Handshakes were the business transaction.

Honor flowed throughout the lands
Where everyone gave a helping hand.
A favor wasn't soemthing that needed returned,
As a friend indeed was something earned.

Days of past will not return
As immoral acts are loved and learned.
Handshakes, a thing of the past,
Your word, a thing that no longer lasts.

Days of Past by K. Saitta © 2007, A Walk In Verse

The Future of Creativity

The presence of our contemporary age
Alters artistic vision down a spiral of emptiness.
Artist no longer creating the visual page,
Spellbound by ambitions of digital laziness.

Visions lost to the age of simplicity,
Erased to machines’ evil desires,
Deluded by storms of deception,
Creativity ceased as hell endures its fires.

Instant gratification -- the new reality --
No yearning for excellence being acquired.
Modern day artistic visions,
Coerced by digital desires.

Tradition bankrupt by false realities,
Lost to a pallet of ones and zeros;
Artwork with no archival ability,
The future lost to modern day technologies.

The Future of Creativity by K. Saitta © 2007, A Walk In Verse

What’s to come?

Death decays daily life,
Eventually everyone endures this everlasting plight.
Articulating afterthoughts of life’s atrocities,
Traversing tragically with tremendous uncertainties,
Helplessly hoping heaven accepts you mercifully.

What’s to come? by K. Saitta © 2007, A Walk In Verse

Violence

Violence can take hold of anyone;
It strips away the virtues of what one was;
It is the thing that breeds contempt in one's soul,
It forces them to lash out from the depth below;

A depth so dark where terror fills the night,
A place so cold that Hell would never know,
A silence so loud, it would drive one insane;
So grim this place, no one could ever brave.

These “Ones” whose virtues were compromised
Seek vengeance against the deviants of immoral genocide;
To lash against the transgression wrought upon their souls,
To reimburse the deviants ten thousand fold.

Retribution will be made on their day of reckoning
As these deviants will regret the pain and suffering
They invoked upon the “Ones” they wronged.

For now they wish they never engaged
In their acts of brutality and incoherent rage.

Justice has set forth and finally prevailed.

Violence by K. Saitta © 2007, A Walk In Verse

Life

Life is the simple thing we neglect every day.
A day contains the time as we travel along our way.
Time is the thing we lack in our lives
As we yearn to find our way in this phenomenon called life.

We grow old in wisdom, yet are fragile in youth;
We cannot escape the perils that seek us with each move.
We can embrace the seconds that the clock has,
Or be the pawn forced by the master’s perilous hand.

Once we realize that three score and ten
Is the amount of time in which we have,
We will let misfortunes lie where they awake,
For life will not wait for us to simply engage.

Time must be the best of what we can make
As days are the things we can no longer waste.
For once they are gone like the birds in the sky,
They will never return, until death when we die.

So take heed from these words
That I must proclaim;

Live life to the fullest before the light fades.
Take one day at a time and never in dismay.
Travel the world to find what you sought in your dreams.
Climb the tallest mountains, quietly enjoy the scenes.
Walk among the people from sea to shining sea;
Hike along the rivers to live and be free.

For once three and ten spins dry,
Death is imminent, and life passed by.

Life by K. Saitta © 2007, A Walk In Verse

Foxtail’s

White Foxtail’s of life
Whimsical lines of beauty
Pleasing to my eye

Foxtail’s by K. Saitta © 2007, A Walk In Verse

My Home

I found a place to call my home
Within the woods for all to roam,
A mountain world of great delight
Away from cities’ overseen sights.

A place where children would be cherished,
A place where friendships would never perish,
A place where families would have meaning,
A place where everyone would be pleasing.

But in this land where I do live
It revealed its past and deadly sins;
A past so dark where black is white,
A place where death dwells in heavenly light,
A place I lived and hardly known,
A place I hate to call my home.

Within this town of lies and sin,
Nightmares thrive and live within.
Children mourn from dawn to dusk;
Township protects those of unimaginable disgust!

I sit and cry with tears of pain
As murderous rage pours through my veins.
A rage so strong as blinding light,
Ready to strike like a falcon in flight
While feasting in the utmost delight.

These nightmares I see are as thick as night.
I must escape before it takes my life.

This place I loathe to call my home
Is a place where none can live and roam.
A place to leave before you die,
A place of complete and unjust lies.

This city’s name I cannot not share
As it brings forth things, one cannot bare.

If I hint its name, you must swear this creed
That you will never seek what I have seen.
This hint I speak has a G,
Which ends with the letters A N D,
Twenty minutes west of Yosemite.

So if you search upon a map
Stay away from this town of collapse,
A town of misery where everyone moans,
A place I will leave that I called my home.

My Home by K. Saitta © 2007, A Walk In Verse

It’s Gonna Get Better

It’s gonna get better,
Are the words I hear every day!

The worlds in a rage,
Families in complete dismay,
Yet, They continue to say,
“Its gonna get better”.

Better for whom is the answer I seek,
As everyone suffers except the rich and elite.

Children are crying as they sleep in their graves,
Families moan in woe and rage;
Out of work and on the streets,
Homes stole by legislative greed;
People starve with not a morsel to eat
As they watch their lives stripped away, shipped overseas.
Yet, They continue to say every single day,
“It’s gonna get better”.

Who are They that speak these words of depict?
These words of emptiness filled with intentions of grief.

“They”, are the ones that control the industries
The ones that create laws and false realities,
The ones that create and destroy societies,
The ones we fought and died for with our dignity!
“They”, are the ones that live off our blood, sweat and tears,
Taking at will with no consequences to bear,
Stripping away our wealth and dignity,
Stealing the land away from our families,
Giving to those of foreign nationalities,
With no regard to the society that entrusted, “They”!

Yet behind their smoke filled lies,
While people die,
They continue to say,
“Its gonna get better”.

It’s Gonna Get Better by K. Saitta © 2007, A Walk In Verse

Yes my darling

Isolated within my mind, are thoughts of a friend,
     a lover, a beautiful wife.

Looking back on days gone by
     when we would sit and gaze past twilight
On ocean sands, sitting, waiting, counting every seventh wave,
Violet skies with shades of red,
     we watch as the ocean currents break;
Every seventh wave, a look, a kiss, an embrace.

You gaze into the oceans light
     as stars wander across a velvet night,
Our eyes embrace; we kiss, sheltered in the heavenly moonlight,
Untouched from these days gone by,

I reminisce about these signs of love.
Down the shores, along the waters edge
On the sands,
     we walked through the waters swirling beneath our feet.

Yes, my darling, I love you, I do.

Yes my darling by K. Saitta © 2007, A Walk In Verse

Friendship

Time comes and goes as night falls.
Memories live and thrive throughout your mind.
Departed souls no longer speak, nor listen,
Yet recall within your mind and you will surely find.

Moments shared, past and forgotten
Etched in the mind as ice caresses its form.
Yet no thoughts allowed of past correlations,
Ignored and forgotten, a friendship mourned.

Memories fade, yet thrive inside,
Hidden away in a place as dark as night;
Nowhere seen, secured in obscurities,
they remain untouched.

Friends? Once upon a time the best of;
Cherished, only now to be forgotten.
Distant, never to speak again,
Yet through memories each one lives.

Time passes, the seasons change,
Years fade as ships sail the lonely seas.
Time lost to years forgotten,
Friendships torn through mistaken realities.

Can one regain that which was lost,
Can communication rekindle with the broken heart,
Can time reclaim the memories once shared,
Or does the silence shroud the severed heart?

Time will heal or destroy the many,
Yet time is what brings the best.
A friendship strong as the glacier peaks,
Yet fragile as ice shattering to the earth beneath.

Will time heal the broken hearted,
Or are wills so strong none will forgive?
These answers I seek, yet do not know,
I cannot see inside ones soul.

Has time healed that which was broken,
Or is a friendship lost with the unspoken?

Friendship by K. Saitta © 2007, A Walk In Verse

Be Mine

On this special day of love,
My mind fills with thoughts of you.
Life and laughter cannot carry,
All the memories we walked through.

A special day of love and happiness
will add memories that will never perish;
Memories filled with love so true,
Knowing together, a lifetime, we will cherish.

Like oceans filled with current blue,
Skies laced in white hues,
My heart beats red, full of life,
My soul fills with delight anew.

The world without you
Is one I cannot comprehend;
The thought without you near,
Is a thought that brings bitter end.

Trials may have stricken our hearts,
But we strive, not allowing to break us apart;
For together we stand, we do not fall,
We will not perish in the world’s black arts.

For today, from now till dawn

We will gaze upon one another
Remembering the times we spent together,
We embrace; we kiss one another.

Be mine, my special Valentine,
On this day of love.
Let us cherish as lovers love,
Be mine on this day of love.

Happy Valentines Day,
My Dear dove.

Be Mine by K. Saitta © 2007, A Walk In Verse

The Progression of Hate

Melancholy mesmerizes American debate,
Illicit idiosyncrasies isolate our mental state,
Revulsion runs rigorously throughout our veins,
Prescriptions of peril to sooth our pains.

Society solicits immigration reform,
Political pandering patronizes our form,
Foreign nationalists strip away our rights,
Corporate corruption capitalizes illegal worker plight.

Citizens’ request catapult to clever discussions,
Administration in charge rules with unrighteous repercussions,
Politicians in power pulverize the politically incorrect,
Forced to accept animosity upon their arrogant request.

Americans forced to educate their replacements,
If they refuse their severance is wasted.
Out of occupation, oscillating with depression,
Homeless with hatred by corporate repression.

Illegals believing their false convoluted perception,
Taking for granted our constitutional inception,
Fallaciously ferocious towards our forefathers foundations,
Reaping rewards from our American traditions.

This progression of hate destroys without worry,
Capitalist corrupt and Americans in fury,
Government deceit erases our glory,
Americans in awe with abhorrent worry.

We have entered the days of our pre-Revolutionary ways.

The Progression of Hate by K. Saitta © 2007, A Walk In Verse

Machine Shop #3

Walking through our presents past,
With relics lost to forgotten time,
A distant world where beauty dies,
Complexity and rhythm ‘round my mind.

Wheels compete to and fro,
Diagonal lines – four-way split.
Visions of confusion swirl about,
A grasp of reality, a simple twist.

Large, small, front to back,
Draws your eye – visual impact.
Spinning tops what do we see?
Disc of industry will be seen!

Competition, forging, metal pipes,
Iron, chains and railroad ties,
Builds the train – our industrialized lives,
Captured here in black and white.

Past now in present time,
Relics being conceptualized.
Modern world co-exists,
Machine Shop Three, immortalized!

Machine Shop #3 by K. Saitta © 2007, A Walk In Verse

Dora

The angles sing in the clouds above,
Our guardians in the heavens,
They whisper to us each passing night,
Comforting our hearts of mourning.

We lie in awake with prayers to God
Asking to heal his child.
Your body weak and the Angles speak,
You press on for a short while.

You finally come, lay to rest,
Your trials now forgotten;
God brings You into His loving arms,
Comforting You, His child.

Your soul withdraws to the heavens above,
You embark upon your journey:
A new life, a new day, a new age
– An afterlife without worry.

And though on this day of rest
Your spirit leaves our world,
With each and every one of us,
Your loving memory endures.

Dora by K. Saitta © 2007, A Walk In Verse