Wednesday, November 30, 2011

Ever On...

A wayward knight searching for Camelot
     as his horse's head hangs low...
The road is long, you can't always be strong
     You can believe but few come to know
The meaning lies within the stars
     but who among us will travel that far?
Put your message in a pickle jar
     and send it off to sea
What is has been and always will be;
     learn to be free...

Is it allusion or illusion
     all  these images i see?
Almost like a silent movie
     or my old Zenith black and white TV
Let the camera catch my eye
     life as it goes passing by
Roll with laughter or sit and cry
     we all must wait and see
What is has been and always will be;
     learn to be free...

There is little more than confusion
     in almost every i see
Ants scurrying and White Rabbits hurrying,
     The Mad Hatter is late for tea
Let the heads roll where they will
     maybe that will give you a thrill
get yourself up that next hill
     What has been there will always be;
learn to be free...


The games we all play
     the silly things we sometimes say
just to see a smile on the face
     of a friend, of a loved one...
In Time as it passes,
     to share a smile or a laugh is
one of the ways we recognize like souls
     The sharing of common bonds,
to see how easy you can get along,
     to lift your voices together in song;
these are modern day miracles
     Catch the musical, feel the lyrical,
let the economics of life trickle down to you
     Feel what is right, know what is Truth to you
and what is chaff in the breeze...

Ask the Moon...

Don't know where i will be
     when the Harvest Moon
shines down on me tonight...
     i can only hope but so few decisions 
in my life are my own
     and it seems the woods
have always been,
    will always be my home,
wandering alone in the darkness
    till the Moon lights my path,
wondering if the sound i heard
     was an owl asking who goes there
or my own bitter laugh...

And tonight we fall back,
     draw the line, take back an hour
and act like Masters of Time
     as if we have that power
when changing it as we will
     only proves it doesn't exist
I guess Time can be killed
     but only hour by hour,
then brought back to life
     with the showers in Spring
The Eternal story of Life, Death and Rebirth,
     Isis and Osiris, the Mists of Avolon
with a Present Day spin...

Wicker Man...

If it's true
     and i am merely fodder
for some other,
     grander scheme
locked within a cosmic Wicker Man
     dont expect me to scream
I danced as Nero played
     and destroyed the Glory that was Rome,
that had become nothing like what it was
     when it was first made
I wept as the troops marched
     through the Champs-Elysees,
knowing the lost Honor and Chivalry of Man
     was being proudly displayed in banners
hanging  limp in the wind as that ghoulish parade
     moved through the City of Light,
extinguishing the hope of millions
     and hardening the Hearts of the World
I lived throught the horrors of  '63 and '68
     and still believe in Camelot
but who shall bring back Excalibur
     when the sea is clogged with oil?
The mist is made by the sea burning
     and our tears won't exinguish this flame
More's the pity and there is our shame;
     for we need look but to the mirror
to see who can stop this
     and to see who is to blame
"Nobody knows who did it"
     "somebody aught to make a law",
"it's not as if anybody can do it"
     "no one has tried hard enough"
That is our flaw;
     yours and mine...

Battle Weary...

The knight in a tin foil helmet
     with a wooden sword
slaying only his dreams,
     one by one
as he finds the game
     he has been playing
has long been lost
     never to be won,
but this he was not told by anyone...

His dreams he found alone,
     as he grew  from terrified child
to hesitant, angry youth,
     in tomes too numerous to count
Believed too long in chivalry
     riding off into distant suns
setting on distant horizons
     when it was the one that was rising
that he should have kept his eyes on
     Now, blinded by the light
he cannot see to save himself,
     how could he be of service to anyone else?
Like some toy from childhood
     laying forgotten and dusty on a shelf
the time has come and gone...

Crack in the Sky...

Think the Spirits
     are calling me home tonight
and given the day,
     or is it the night,
you know this time i just might
     accept the open invitation...
How many times now
     have i seen them,
caught somewhere between
     what was, what is and what might have been?

All spirits are full of longing,
     not just to belong somwhere
not just to find that lost someone who cared
     and say now what before they did not dare
for we are incomplete until we share
     our true feelings
and i will die believing
     that the power and the honesty
of my emotions
     is all that will remain after i'm gone

For i have seen the Crack in the Sky
     where lost souls come in from the cold
and i have heard the constellations cry
     at what has always been continues to unfold
Not in our stars but in ourselves
     we reach the heights of Heaven
or the plunge to the depths of Hell
     a few remain, caught in their own spell
lingering between Life and Death
     as unsure in Death as they were in Life
still groping blindly for the light...

Catch the Moon...

The sunset lit the Harvest Moon
     in a crown of orange and pink
as a cloud, shaped like the Hand of God,
     cupped, then gently released it
to stand back and revel in its Glory...

     The thunder in the distance rolled toward me,
quickening my footsteps, though i knew
     i would soon be under a deluge
and this there would be no avoiding
     As the trees alongside the trail
trembled in anticipation,
     i wondered,
was it of the Moon, the Equinox or the rain
     or a mixture of all three
that quieted the Wood to a stillness
     making me slow my step to not break the silence?
With a crack of lightning breaking the pane of Darkness,
     the rain comes in sheets
as the water flows beneath my now bare feet
     as my sneakers find my pockets
crowded but dry
      I find a deadfall, almost dusty, barely damp
beneath a massive uprooted  oak
     i crouch and spy the wonder now before my eyes
as the Moon turns red, surrounded by lightning
     rising higher, but still not the moment,
the longest day or the shorter way
     the precipice awaits...

Ends the shower,
     it has been nearly an hour
and just a mist upon my hair and coat
     Staff in hand, survey the land
back to playing mountain goat
     At the ridgetop is where i stop
and gaze out from atop the boulder
     Winds of Change and Seasons change
can you feel the air will soon be colder?

Little Red Riding Hood...

How do you let yourself be treated,
     what is it you are needing,
how long will you go on not heeding
     conscience whispering in your ear?
We know what's right,
     we know what's wrong
Somehow some Truths
     need never be taught
we have all  been children
     with our hands caught
in the forbidden cookie jar,
     so inviting and so far
We know what we should and shouldn't do
     the rest is up to what goodness is in you,
if you ever let it shine through
     despite the evil men and women  do
No longer turn the other cheek,
     don't bite your tongue,
find the voice to speak
     the Earth may be inherited by the meek
but wolves still prowl the World....


Slice of Life
takes on different meaning
beneath the bright moonlight
and the stars as they lay gleaming...
Sad smile, for was it real
or was i dreaming;
the Sleeper who Never Dreams
the Dreamer who never wakes?
It is then i look at my hands shaking
and reality, not sanity returns to me,
making me stop and see
and realize how little it would take...
For just an instant all seemed right
and the fight was gone
in a rush of exhaled breath
and then a sharp intake,
is not pain always a surprise?
You can hear pain in a weary voice,
you can read it in your eyes,
you can wonder till forever,
you can die theorizing
Now the too, too  sad realizing,
the despising is rising,
stuck in my throat
to match the mote in my eye
and i need spew it out
or let it chew 
and spit me out...

What Goes Round...

The Jester in exile,
     the joke is on him...
The ship's sinking, sailor,
     i hope you can swim...
The parade is now over
     you were just watching anyway...
Let the marching bands play a dirge
     to match how i'm feeling today...
The most despicable man
     on the face of the Earth
for all of his dreams he has no means
    and has nothing to show of worth
Words die, last breath on the wind
    taken up to the sky to circle
slowly down again
     to enter a mouth that's open in wonder
Maybe that where i will begin again;
     as the catch in someone's breath...

Tuesday, November 29, 2011

As Ever it Seems...

Mist shrouded Moon
mourning her fate,
always fighting the light
though she knows it's too late
The light that reveals her
is the light she battles;
better to remain in darkness,
lurking in the shadows,
than be forgotten in the sunshine
We all must decide for ourselves
or sit, lonely and forgotten
misbegotten, if you will
As for me, as for now
i have had my fill
i have little pride left,
too many hills,
too many spills
Bitten my tongue
since i was young
and it did not help me or anyone
Taken insults thrown in anger
to my family i'm a stranger
Swallowed too many bitter pills
and the cure it seems
is ten times worse than the ill
so i remain,
as ever,
till whenever,
the fool still...

Off the Grid...

Blue-black rose the morning
black and blue my soul
One bird sang alone for a moment
as sunrise took the roll
to see what had survied the night...
Every day another heart flutters and sputters,
every night eyes close, not to open again,
with each wave something sinks below the water
perhaps it was that message in a bottle i had sent...
For the Fleet will not appear on the horizon,
the Calvary only finds smoking remains,
the Moon turns blood red in the morning light
as the Sun rises in the cycle that has not changed;
like the changing of the tide
where the waves reveal then hide
what are treasures beyond measure to some
and merely flotsam and jetsam to others
What would you rather see,
is that what torments me?
i get lost in beauty of the Earth
as the World passes me by
Return me, then, to a forgotten glen
far from my sorrows...
past where the concrete ends...

Dial Tone...

What to say
after you have said too much?
Broken heart, tiny parts scattered
all over the forest floor,
glints of light on the trail,
a constant reminder
how many times i have failed;
to say what's right,
to right the wrong,
to find a place i can call home
Yes, i could live without a phone
for no one ever calls me,
not even my dear family
unless they need something from me
or say they are worried
but more likely embarassed by me
Ever the ghost, caught between extremes
and that is why i am rarely seen
in my true form
Long after my body lies cold
my soul will still search for you
the broken heart will still beat
dead but still warm
To reach for the heights of happiness,
to run to the sound of your voice
to fall seconds later
with a mute scream
for you've turned that page
you've changed the scene
and i can only play the fool
i have always been for you
and all that matters is;
nothing it seems
when you are judged by others
for what they have experienced in the past
and good intentions are not mentioned
just each time you failed in your task
When your hopes lie on tomorrow
today is a sad dream...

Ebb Tide...

Water never stops
even when contained
The heart continues to beat
though the soul is chained
Tears keep time with rain,
keep my timing clear
Life leaves by the drop,
escaping through my tears
How long till i run dry,
a broken water hourglass,
or will i just evaporate
dissolving into mist?...
Blood pumps through my veins
but no longer have the soul
to have searched for so long in darkness
only to be scorched by the light
leaves me unbelieving
leaves me, throwing down my sword
i no longer have the fight
Words forever,
intentions are never enough
when one questions love;
there is nothing...

Deluge II...

They say it will rain all week
making my footsteps on the forests floor
soft, quiet but deep
as the leaves fall soundlessly
in an almost a straight line
to land with a small splash
beyond the tarps,
tight against the wind
as the mist turns again to rain
Sounds of weather,
the wind and the trees together
in a dance beneath a blanket of white,
telling me it is not yet night
or you would see in a different light
No, it is the same light;
it is we who turn away...

Monday, November 28, 2011

Indian Summer...

The sunset aflame
with shades of pink and red
as the dying light
struggles to maintain dignity
in the face of the oncoming darkness
The unseasonable warmth
has not yet begun to cool
as the temperatures in the sixties
adds a sparkle to the sky
Even the birds and squirrels
revel in the unexpected weather
in no hurry to scurry
back to nests made warm
by the glowing sun
and the gentle warm wind
as the stars take their time
in making the climb
up the ladder of they sky
as they see no reason why
they should twinkle above
when all thoughts are below
upon the miracle
of these warm Indian Summer days
One can only pray they continue
for a little while more
and when at last they leave
that they don't open the door
for the fury of winter,
angered at having waited too long...

Gene Pool...

Sins of the fathers,
tears for my daughter
for sadly i see too much of me
in that beautiful face
Oh, that she might escape
the fear and trembling,
the neverending doubt
the self hate i feel
when i am not distracted
when i have nothing to gaze upon,
wonder about or  to keep my thougths
from whirling about...
That is where i have hid
since my shattered youth
and the murder of what i held true
When heroes became monsters,
when my neighbors became witches
teaching me what i never wanted to know
and is now second nature,
without a thought, i venture...
When heads rolled and tents folded
as the carnival and the caravan rolled away
The ice cream man covered his face in his hands,
his heart turned cold as he lost all control
when the mother screamed for her son...
When you cannot trust what you hear
you become deaf
when you cannot believe  what you see
you become blind
when no one hears your hoarse cries
you become mute
Deaf, dumb and blind i am becoming
and i blame my lack of faith,
not anything or anyone else...


Two pennies for my thoughts,
copper coins for the journey
At the Gate it seems i have waited,
watching Life and Death pass me by
Lost souls cry to me,
words that are not my own
come to me
and only after it is written
do i see
but never understand
For i am not in command
how can i make you comprehend
that i am just a poor messenger
sent on a fool's errand,
mouthing words like an idiot savante
that i don't pretend to understand?...

Physician, Heal Thyself...

Took the Leap of Faith last night
and landed on my feet
Believe it, i did leave it but returned
to Earth, again complete
For i had lost heart and resolve,
watched my heart shatter, then dissolve
A mute Sphinx, a Gordian Knot to solve
while my World spun out of control
as the Earth continued to revolve
as ever, as ever...
How a kind act and good intentions
becomes something else
leads one to beg the question;
If you could take back
what was said in anger
and say what you did not mention
will the bitter Truth set you free
or will the cure come too late
for the sake of an ounce of prevention?...

What I'm Trying to Say (Ya Know What I Mean?)...

Words fail
arms flail about
like a drowning man
reaching for a helping hand
only to drag the rescuer down
in an explosion of bubbles
and whitewater fear
as you try to express
as best you can,
as you guess you can
if only to explain your confusion...
For few conclusions come to mind
or answers to the questions
asked since the beginning,
before recorded Time;
Little more than this is  yours
and this is mine
tells me we have not
made the most of our time
here on this Earth
still fighting for scraps
like dogs in the dirt...

Kyanite (Throat Chakra)...

Taken from the Earth
to wear about my neck
a find of rare worth
for it gave me a feeling
i cannot explain, not yet
An electrical, magical
tingle about the crown of my head
mysterious and mystical
think it has something to to with atoms
ancient DNA and miniscule helical shapes
Blue like the sky,
its feather shape caught my eye
Something told me to buy it,
i don't know why
but now something tells me
i will in Time
or i already knew
in the long ago unremembered,
the common consciousness,
the uncommon bond
between souls meeting again
after a millenia
do any of you believe this?
It matters not...
for i know what i feel,
one of the few things in the World
uncomplicated and real...

Poetry Open Mic...

Speaking my words out loud,
thankfully to a small and polite crowd
Trying to keep the pentameter
as my hands shake, the papers quake
and my voice comes in starts and stammers
Reading, as always, for the first time
words i already know to be mine
They always find me
filled with more than curiosity
at what i may find there
Though i know the path,
each footstep is new
Colors change with the seasons;
Gentle Fall  covers the Summer Youth
as Old Man Winter repairs and prepares
his snowy blankets and frozen quilts
Inedible berries wither on the vine,
geese swim in frigid waters;
swamp marshes and also in the brine
Images rushing past me
are not always mine
but i will take them gladly
and share them with you
for believe me when i say;
it is the least i can do...

All of You...

Let me see your smile
that would melt an iceberg
Want to see the eyes that sparkle
like a diamond chandelier
Oh, to hear you laughter
like wind chimes twirling in the breeze
I feel weak in the knees
Whenever you are near
To see you dance your happy dance
never fails to make me smile
like a child readying to make a jump
into a huge leaf pile
Your furrowed brow makes me wonder how
i could allay your fears
would do all i could to not see your tears
glistening upon that soft face
i would erase them without a trace
but all of you is what i love
somehow sent to me from above
my sweet, adorable crystalline dove
please fly back into my arms...

Sunday, November 27, 2011

Snow White...

The luxury of language,
describe what you see and feel
Is there any difference in the songbird's call;
because we don't understand the meaning
does that diminish the beauty,
does it make it any less real?
An acquired taste, like the ballet
don't waste a chance to see what takes,
if you don't learn from your mistakes
then you're trapped within a viscious cycle
The self-fulfilling prohecy, a never ending travesty
for it is all too easy, don't you see,
to fall into the same routine
Then life becomes a waking dream,
making nothing as it seems
until you wake from your slumber
or was it a spell some hag with an apple put you under?

Elementary, My Dear Watson...

Rain soaked soul today,
waterlogged and barely afloat
going from window to window
checking out the front door
to see if sunshine might come knocking there
Restless hands that won't stay still
but feet of clay, a day of almost no will
Thoughts wander, sometimes too far,
back in to the past;
turns in the road that went by so fast
and suddenly you've lost direction
the familiar becomes unfamiliar
changes in scenery bear closer inspection
for despite all of our powers of detection
in the end we only see what we want to see...

Fall From Grace...

I was in an office when the Two Towers were struck
and i knew right away it was not just bad luck
Though at the time i couldn't recall his name
i knew it was a madman from the Middle East just the same
Knew that New York City is a no-fly zone
so the news flash sent a chill to the marrow of my bones
prayed with the ladies of the office
 for the lives on the jets
never thinking that the horror wasn't over yet
Then the news from the Pentagon
 flashed across the screen
made the surreal become a waking nightmare
 like has never been
The brave souls on Flight 93
led me to wonder how brave i'd be
if i had been aboard that flight
would i have be strong enough to do what's right?
Even now, tears fall
as my thoughts go back and i try to recall
The disbelief, the anguish and the rage
at the events that changed America
that now have us at this stage
of fear, of doubt, of paranoia
how we were struck in our heart
but were strong enough to not be destroyed
but changed we have all become
in the knowing there is nowhere to run
for terrorism strikes not at troops but at the innocent
that is what we lost, our innocence..

New Morning (It always is)...

It really is darkest just before the dawn
as the rain settles i set the kettle
looking at flashes of light on the lawn
Water sparkles on the grass
from light the streetlights cast,
a few birds prepare themselves
for morning and their first song
Black gives way,
revealing clouds clouds of grey
with a tinge of color from the Sun,
near forgotten over this extended rain
Let us have sunshine again,
i don't want my vitamin E in tablet form,
i want to see my shadow and be warm.
to close my eyes, hold up my arms
and be reborn...

The Odyssey...

Why do i cry again, now;
for things i can not forget,
for shame, guilt and regret
and countless expectations not met,
for failing yet again,
for flailing wildly at the wind,
for always being the victim
of the sins of our fathers?
One by one my dreams have crashed,
two by two were my hopes dashed
to the mast i am forever lashed
tormented by what only i hear;
for my siren's song still rings clear
even after all these years
Exiled in his own land
death blow dealt by his own hand
he will die never understanding
but still caring way too much...


Sometimes the sun shines not so brightly
and cloulds are overhead
somtimes my step is not so spritely
and i wish that i was dead
but you know i didn't meant it
what if all of our wishes came true
and can you believe it,
that your dreams are up to you?

Sometimes the ill winds blow my way
and confusion's in my mind
forgive the foolish words i say 
when it's so hard to be kind
cause you know i didn't mean it
what if all of our words could come back?
and can you believe it,
that manners are all we lack?

Sometimes i feel like giving up
or is it giving in?
If life is really such a game
can you tell me what we win?
But you know i didn't mean it,
don't think i really want to know
and can you believe it,
that this world will go on,
that this world will go on,
that this world will go on,
if i go?...
circa 1985

How Are You? (S.A.D.)...

The battle for daylight still rages
as cars line up at the coffee shops;
from shiny metal beasts
to cloth covered cubicle cages
Most of them on the phone,
some adjusting their faces
lines earned are sometimes burned away,
injections of death to stop Age's pages
from yellowing, cracking and turning

Your age is in your eyes, my friend
they bear all the miles,
they've seen all the trials
and never say a word...
My eyes show my pain
despite being hidden
behind countless pair of  glasses
unbidden, their story is always the same

Happy, content, satisfied,  resigned;
perspective, we elect how we live, how we die
why we laugh, why we cry
Measures of  time,  moments subline,
pieces of a life that never come together
square peg in round hole,
jack of all trades and not master of himself,
everyone's dog, always straining at his tether...

Ask me tomorrow or some other time,
my answer may be different
but today, whatever...

Sunday Sonnet...

Fell asleep dreaming of you
What my mind conjures up
to get me through the night
Not the dreams you might expect
for above all i have great respect
for you and our relationship
and even as i sleep i would do nothing
to sink the ship that sails from my heart
The winds of change could never part us
Rains of bitterness neither
nor could jealousy start us arguing
for we belong uniquely to each other
in ways few could understand
for i've never met two like us
so happy in our completeness
that even in distress we want to turn
to each other, a singulary kind voice
that always seems to help us recover
i thank the stars or the powers that be
for the day i discovered you
or you discovered me
either way, now we cannot lose each other
except in each other's eyes...

River's Edge...

A distraction,
an involuntary reaction...
A Pavlovian response
in avoidance of the mundane...
A fleeting glimpse,
almost as if
i don't exist at all...

On the periphery of my own destiny
as i watch my life pass by me
and capture images and thoughts
that enthrall me,
Oh,  how they do call to me!
Sometimes i feel they are all of me,
i keep them but at what cost? 

Along the river's edge
watching the torrent pass
To remain lost in wonder and awe
or die in complacency:
where is the happy medium
with thoughts that wander
and a soul that flounders
amid the routine and the tedium?

Living as the flotsam and jetsam of civilization;
sodden branches cling to shore,
not wanting to travel downstream anymore,
old newspaper  by the curb
fluttering in the breeze
as across the river,
living in the stand of pines
by the factory long abandoned,
a homeless man walks into the sunlight breaking
and warms his hand by rubbing his knees...


Lord knows, i've tried to see both sides
from all sides, without pride
and maybe that is my bane
for i make excuses for the reason
of things i can't explain
Try to see your point of view
while mine dulls almost to round
This rock that barely rolls
with his heart broken
for  harsh words spoken,
for little tokens of affection
thrown to the dog without a bone
Yes, like the song;
no direction home,
for i live in limbo,
sleep like the dead,
with my arms akimbo
i've taken more hurt
and held back more than tears
than you will ever know
or want to, so it seems
lonely, foolish child
grew to a foolish man, alone
who still believes in his dreams,
his poetry, music and what lies between
but knows they have not any worth...

Weeping Willow...

Man does not live by bread alone;
i have put that maxim to the test
the solace in the tearing of the loaf
a quick unspoken prayer,
a solitary request
Yes, it's true He answers all prayers
but sometimes the answer is no
Too many times turned away
without a chance to ask or say
has left me where i am today
and still begging the question
What Divivne Intervention
have you heard of lately?
He has not made his prescence known
since the Sphinx was a kitten
as Emperors walked regal and stately
What chance does one fool have,
when only his own echo listens?
How long will this agony last,
what is the half a clue he's been missing?
Life they say goes by so fast
by mine slips away in drips and drops
like the tears begun so many years ago
that have never stopped...

The Poet's Vacant Gaze...

 In the time it takes to turn you head
i'm somewhere else instead
i heard what you said
but not what you were saying
give me some time to come back...

Words that you spoke scant moments ago
started other wheels turning,
that burning in my stomach,
the churning of rusted wheels
grinding rust into dust as the cogs begin to move...
The nervousness, the hurried heartbeat
as to what the next line shall bear
the uncontrollable shaking afterwards
when i read what i have written there
Is this a groove or shall i call it a rut
as my wheels follow and wobble on a road  shown me?
What transpires from words inspired by others
and how is it your thoughts echo mine
or do i add my words to your thoughts,
take each lesson as i am taught
and store them away for later
as for now i know naught what it is i do?
Would that i could explain to you
or is it , again, the other way around?
for others explain what the words mean
that, for whatever reason, i found...

Still Imagining (with love and apologies to J.L.)...

Imagine there's no music
but how could that ever be?
No soul within us,
nor Art or Poetry...
Imagine artists dying
shot down for celebrity

Imagine there's no caring,
no sharing of humanity,
every man for himself,
no love of friends or family
Imagine living alone
and pretending that you're happy...

You may think it was just a nightmare
but it was grim reality
The sound  of six shots
the cost of that voice lost
will echo through eternity...
    10-9-10 and 11-27-11

Out of the Darkness...

 In Darkness waits the Dawn,
behind the Curtain of Night 
in breathless anticipation
of the coming beauty of Color and Light,
of warmth and wonder
and Earthly delights
Hoping, as ever, that one day she might
come out and never go back;
to keep black at bay, let not planets twinkle
or stars shine to point the way  to Heaven's Gate,                   
where so few of us are bound anyway
This She knows is a Fool's Prayer
for without Dark there is no Light,
there is Wrong but there is also Right
Two sides to everything since Time began;
it is the very heart of Nature
the very core of Man...

Turkey Trot...

By the glade is where we made our first stop;
jumping lightly from rock to rock,
stepping over  and under fallen logs
as we followed the path the turkeys made
as they scratched the leaves
to find worms in the warm moist shade...
Stopped just before the crest of the hill,
for we can hear them rustling above us still
"We move when they move, right Papa?", you said
i could only smile and nod as memories and pride
filled  my heart , my soul, my head
Back again to younger days,
when my eyes had not the sad gaze
and saw wonder and amazement
in even the smallest things
Thank you, son, for reminding me
even in my sorrow my love for you finds me
All i ask of you is that you remember me kindly
as they years unfold
and remember the little things i told you
for i will always hold you and your sister
forever in my heart...

Friday, November 25, 2011

Cool turns to Chilly...

Tangerine clouds in a cobalt blue sky
dissolving round a nectarine sun
as shadow birds, black as coal,
flutter to grey woods as sunset
deepens turning dusk to ink
as night falls soundlessly
and the amber moon rises
to reveal nightshadows
running from the halo of light
shining down in cold slivers
as the temperaturs drops
but does not break...
An autumn night
full of wonders
and no small delight...

Thursday, November 24, 2011

American Holiday, America's Shame...

On this day for giving thanks,
what are you grateful for?
What possibilities have you explored,
have you searched within yourself
and come up wanting more?
Have you poured from the cup of human kindness,
or have you looked upon man's inhumanity to man
with a deaf ear and convenient blindness?
Have you heard the poor cry
or let the sound die on the wind?
Have you wondered why such things exist
and when might a change begin?
When the start is in our hearts
not on some colorful flow chart
for if we each did our part
poverty would not exist
nor would the poor in spirit
When the haves truly see the have nots
there would be a new beginning...

Cast the First Stone...

The subtle difference between
hearing and listening,
wanting and needing,
seeing and believing,
growing old and growing up
A paper thin margin
so many don't see
because they don't feel the need
is proof of an over inflated ego
You can hear but never listen,
want what you don't need,
see and not believe
and grow old without growing up
all because you see no reason to change
Who among us does not need improvement?
But that means you need to stop and think,
if just for a moment,
where you fit in the grand scheme of things
and dream of things you may yet be
if in fact you take the time to see,
that like everyone else,
you're a flawed human being...

Wednesday, November 23, 2011

Star Gazing...

Tomorrow comes,
it does no good to hide or run, my friend
You can thumb your nose
but it won't change what comes and goes
and what stays
anyhow or any way....

Today goes,
turn your head and wonder where the day has gone
Time , it waits for no one
playing catch up can get lonesome
when you play alone...

Running nowhere
tell me , where it is you think you are
what are the stars you see at night?
Points of reference;
what, then, is the difference
between you and I,
can we try
to overlook it all?

Yesterday was,
what is the proof?
we're here today because
we can feel this reality
Another plane
and see things differently
and yet somehow the same
A bubble within a bubble,
where one bursting means big trouble
as  we all are one...

Running nowhere
tell me , where it is you think you are
what are the stars you see at night?
Points of reference;
what, then, is the difference
between you and I,
can we try
to overlook it all?

Through Misted Eyes...

This rain is a mist  that does not fall
it floats about and above,
at the gentle breeze's call
You could stand amid it
and it would seem
as if you weren't getting wet at all,
as Creatures of the Night cry
and Autumn leaves fall,
as he rises like the waking dead;
alive but feeling nothing at all
Capturing the moment,
so later, if he gets better,
he will remember what he missed
when he was struggling with demons,
arguing reasons to exist
and always coming up short
despite sharp wits and witty retorts
A soul too trusting gets into all sorts situations unintended
leaving torn souls  and gaping holes,
leaving many questions open-ended
Fear of others, scorn of  self
have left many  broken memories
like toys gathering dust on the top shelf...

Break the Mirror (Sad Reflection)...

I am my own worst fear,
year after year it finds me here
running from horrors
no one believes...
They cannot see me
because i hide
behind false pride,
behind a piteous smile
with no more sense that a little child,
for i believe when i ask
 and there's the pity and a laugh
for everyone wears a mask,
everyone has there own agendas
while they pretend to pay attenion
Which i how i was sent unattended
in the gaping jaws of Hell
My heart was broken,
my soul will always reside there
For all my hopes and  prayers
have only echoed in my head
since i was  a young child
awake as ever,
and crying in my bed..

I Guess...

The more things change,
the more they stay the same
The reason is;
 it's all a circle, we're revolving,
long past any evolving
we just are,
as ever...

What we are
is known to no one,
least of all ourselves
though we may pretend
to know better
sail  your ship through stormy weather
everything is just a guess,
i guess...

Watch the road, mister
weren't you watching the signs
posted on the way,
anyway, what made you think
you could go this way?
Don't cry for mama
she ain't gonna bail you out this time
no kid, you're all alone.

The less you know
the better off you are,
no world for bleeding hearts
Just go and earn your living,
forget about caring and giving
and live that lie
not I...

I know i am flawed
i never said i was the lord king god himself
but my heart is always open
my soul is always hoping
and that's my curse,
but which is worse?...

Watch the road, mister
weren't you watching the signs
posted on the way,
anyway, what made you think
you could go this way?
Don't cry for mama
she ain't gonna bail you out this time
no kid, you're all alone.

Night Light...

Haunting a famiiar wood,
a ghost between the shadows stood
and pondered why he wandered,
why he found solace in the night
as the light shone upon creatures,
their eyes capturing and reflecting the light
Spirits do move, they cling to some
but you cannot call them
and you never know when they might come...

Now, i believe i have felt them
ever since i was young
too long i have tried to reject them
but have found it has not done 
me any good to run
Let them speak, i can only listen
in fear of missing something or someone...