blossoms in April

blossoms in April

A Poem by Freder Fredersen (aka Grady)

they nature of the way thing's are.


blossoms in April

last pale brown spirit of frost dies a slow green death

in the picket fenced killing yard.

reincarnated leaves return as battered blue-black toenail falls away-

ambition's corpse on the grey vinyl bathroom floor.

I need Jesus.

charcoal and ivory church hats return to a former flagrant pastel glory.

do God’s eyes squint at Springtime Sabbath?

dark oaken pews in shapely rows like stanza poetry that carpet bombs the senses

and robotic responsive ping ponged psalms bounce and fade.

this was mom’s tabernacle. mother was a saint.

she suffered deeply when she died. none of these people were there.

I need whiskey.

torn night transcribed in slashed prose pencil dreams;

biographical thanatopsis napkin tucked in the catchall kitchen drawer

with orphan twist ties, unpaid bills, Chinese menus and inkless pens.

three elegant yellow tea glasses of anesthesia and I am staring

at a lifeless television from a secondhand blue recliner in strained silent tears.

mourning Winter. prank calling God. hiding from the light.

my sorrow blossoms in April.

I don’t know what I need.

© 2010 Freder Fredersen (aka Grady)

Author's Note

Freder Fredersen (aka Grady)
hug someone you're angry with. you would be angry if you didn't care about them.

My Review

Would you like to review this Poem?
Login | Register


these words haunt me, I understand that feeling well

Posted 9 Years Ago

1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

Your words leave me speechless...and alive. When I don't want to read empty, boring poetry anymore I come back for the truth of your words. So good! Not helpful or constructive, but there you go.

Posted 9 Years Ago

Request Read Request
Add to Library My Library
Subscribe Subscribe


2 Reviews
Shelved in 1 Library
Added on April 9, 2010
Last Updated on April 9, 2010


Freder Fredersen (aka Grady)
Freder Fredersen (aka Grady)

Cleveland, TX

I'm as wired as a Kamikaze train wreck dance off in downtown Screamerville! When I write I try to leave this world behind and create a new dimension of words and other fresh organic ingredients. In ot.. more..