The Memory of Ghosts

There was a time you could walk down the streets of America,

and we had our similarities wanting to raise children and grow old together.

We had faith in God, and each other, though we shared cultures and individuality.

We worked hard and helped each other.

Now anyone who does not believe in extreme liberal views to the detriment of others is considered the enemy and encouraged to keep quiet or go away.

You have a voice per the First Amendment, USE IT!

Take your ballot, sign and date in the red box, put it in the BALLOT box.

If we do not fight for the America which welcomed ALL people with Liberty’s torch held high, it will be gone forever.

America will only be remembered by those who have passed away.

America will become:

The Memory of Ghosts 

I was speaking with a gentleman,

Who sat next to me in a breeze,

With such a gentle face,

He had a kindness in his eyes.

There was a burden in my heart,

Which he seemed to feel and know,

Concerning what happens to us,

When people forget how to remember.

He spoke of a hotel across the lake,

Long since torn down,

Where nameless people strolled,

Over a hundred years ago.

They lived and they loved,

They dreamed and they died,

Yet if energy is not created,

Their love could never die.

He said my pain is in feeling,

The wordless whispers on the wind,

The experiences and voices long past,

Whose passion flies free like the birds.

This is fuel for the fire of the heart,

Of histories and culture once lived,

In places which no longer stand,

Connecting me to where I’ve once been.

To hold a piece of history in my hand,

Conveys an energy familiar and true,

And to live with all this in my heart,

Makes it all breathe alive once again.

He said remember the souls that were here,

Remember their love never died,

Carry their flame in your heart,

And shine that love through your eyes,

In that park we sat and we spoke.

In that park I turned to hear a sound.

When I looked to him again he was gone.

by Eric Visconti - Poet

Exploring Life

“Words are the beginning of every journey.”

Visit my linktr.ee to find my ebooks and blogs. 

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For the Love of Riley

  This is for every person whoever knew Laken Riley,

For all of those she was taken away from,

And for those  who never had a chance to meet her.

An outgoing heart of love,

Her right to go out was taken,

So another undeserving could come.

From so many of us she was taken,

Away from her loving family and friends,

And future patients she will never meet.

Her unborn cry out from Heaven,

For never knowing the love of her womb,

Though she takes now their hands to comfort.

Inside each of her former classrooms,

An empty chair holds fresh flowers,

An empty silence of students without words.

I who have laid down my pen,

Now use it building a bridge of words,

Connecting to her loving heart.

For her heart is a gift on Earth,

Rare and beautiful dedicated to others,

A life helping people she can no longer live.

Let us each build a bridge to her heart,

That she lives forever unforgotten,

Her light touching others through each one of us.

by Eric Visconti - Poet

Exploring Life

“Words are the beginning of every journey.”

Visit my linktr.ee to find my ebooks and blogs. 

From Instagram: (link in bio)

From Facebook & Twitter:  https://linktr.ee/Ericthepoet

#lakenhoperiley #remember @lakenrileyy

#life #love @writersofinstagram @deadofnightpoetry @poetry.after.dark @poetsoftheglobe #janeseymouropenheartsfamily 

#JoeBiden #BidenBorderCrisis

The Midnight Shadow

I just wrote this about cancer.

 It is light that creates shadow, but not always,

For the greater will dispel the lesser,

Yet some shadows exist without light.

Through my journeys I have sought out the light,

To dispel the darkness, plaguing others,

As they cast shadows in the sunlight with me.

Yet the Daemon lurks among us all,

Displaying wisdom in delaying when to strike,

For true terror lies within the waiting.

On that day it did rear it’s fearsome head,

While the sun sank taking the shadows of nature,

Leaving me one shadow to remain.

With the lights off I can see its presence,

I place my hand into its cold air of darkness,

Though out of reach I always feel its touch.

Such is the inhumanity within it’s heart,

Never having grace to kill quickly with mercy,

Gaining strength from the fear which it creates.

Now the world’s beauty seems just an illusion,

Scenery painted on the other side of glass,

In a place I can see like a distant world.

Yet one force remains to penetrate this shadow,

With beams piercing through from hearts of light,

For nothing can dispel the power of love.

For I know when God departed from this Earth,

Returning to a heaven without boundaries,

He left us the tool of miracles.

So powerful was this tool He has given,

Only limited by the force of free will,

God did not choose to leave us any others.

And so by the hearts around me,

Hands are pulling me from the darkness,

For we were given each other never to be alone.

Our strands of life are not measured evenly,

Yet to the beauty of life I have been returned,

With the creature of darkness remembered vividly.

The shadow will always be with me,

Though it is drowned out by the light of joy,

This light of joy where I choose to live and share.

by Eric Visconti - Poet

Exploring Life

“Words are the beginning of every journey.”

Visit my linktr.ee to find my ebooks and blogs. 

From Instagram: (link in bio)

From Facebook & Twitter:  https://linktr.ee/Ericthepoet

#life #love @writersofinstagram @deadofnightpoetry @poetry.after.dark @poetsoftheglobe #janeseymouropenheartsfamily @pdiegomontano