Poetry Train not quite Monday

I didn't have this poem on Monday.  It came to me on Tuesday and I'm posting it on Wednesday.  I hope that's not too much of a stretch and that it will still get me a ticket on the Poetry Train.

Will You


Will you laugh with me in the early mist,

When the glow of dawn is only a hint?

Will you freshen my lips with your sweet kiss

That tastes of green tea and peppermint?

Will you wander a winding path with me,

When the sun is high and days are long?

Will you hold my hand, but not too tightly,

Fingers entwined, meshed palm to palm?

Will you mingle your life with mine

In the afterglow of the setting sun?

Will you speak idly with me in the moonshine,

As my soul and yours knit into one?

Will you dance with me in peace

Through the twilight of our lives?

Will you feel heart's tender release

In the symphony of all our nights?

Copyright 2010

Footsteps

In the restless quiet of twilight
When cold silence eerily lingers
Keeping day entwined with night
Her footsteps echo, dire and familiar

A determined border of feral mist
Invests the precious moments before dawn
No yield in the dismal barrier that exists
Between time borrowed and love withdrawn

Uneasy and full of dread, I pause to wait
An ebon stillness envelopes my soul
This luckless sorrow, ill-used by fate
Smothering the words I must always control

Clicking like the angry pincers of a fat spider
The disjointed cadence, unforgiving, reproachful
A syncopated rhythm, stepping always closer
Its demands reverberate in the hollows of my will

Harsh now, and near, this unsparing moment
Loud now, the steps, a border crossed
Dread now, the sound of that approaching torment
Turn now, to face love's promise forever lost


There is no magic left to save me from myself
To erase the bitter panic of this inevitability
Only footsteps in my mind, mocking my life
Gone again now, yet ever after haunting me








Copyright 2010

What Waits There

What waits there
Along the byway
Wayward souls
Or kindred lights

Don't focus
Or they may follow

Vision blinded
Always seeking
Beyond the veil
Hold passions close

Don't reveal
Or they may claim

Once they spoke
In the deep quiet
Silenced now
During the long sleep

Don't move
Or they will wake

Don't fear
For what waits there
In the fresh dark
Is imperfect








Copyright 2010

A Thousand Times

A thousand times he walked with her

A thousand times she smiled

A thousand times he talked with her

A thousand times, deep in the night

A thousand times they did embrace

A thousand times they danced

A thousand times he watched her face

A thousand times, entranced

A thousand times they stole the hours

A thousand times, more precious still

A thousand times, and time devoured

A thousand times, together until

A thousand times he held her

A thousand times she cried

A thousand times he loved her

A thousand times, and then he died

Copyright 2008

I Watched A Flower Grow

I watched a flower grow
A blur of color through my window
Simple and elegant
Beckoning spring to dance

I watched a cloud form
A soft shadow on the horizon
Placid in the moment
Yet holding ominous intent

I see the starkness in a life
Challenged daily by strife
Wishing only for peace
And a quiet place to dream

I have a song in my mind
A melody strong and alive
yearning to be heard
To be sung and shared

A thing of joy, the flower
Roiling could chooses the hour
The music of many souls
Mag guide the weary ones home




Copyright 2007

At This Moment

At this moment I am alive

Her smile brings respite

From the long lonely night

At this moment I am warm

Her touch deepening the love

Reflected in my eyes

At this moment I am free

As our passions quicken

Entwined in a charmed embrace

At this moment I am joy

As the sum of our love ignites

Like fire on arid grass

At this moment I am tranquil

Bathed in the afterglow

Of life, warmth, freedom, and joy

At this moment I am serene

Safe in the sweet tender mercy

Of a timeless love

Copyright 2006

Sometimes

I don't know myself sometimes.
I breathe in and out as I must,
Seeming alive, moving as a man does.
Yet where am I going? 


I can't find myself sometimes.
I think and speak to others as I must,
Seeming noteworthy, answering as a man should.
Yet what do I know?


I've seen myself sometimes,
Taking charge and doing what I must,
Seeming brave, standing up as a man will.
Yet why do I fear?


I am not myself sometimes.
I behave outrageously as I must,
Seeming strong, acting my part as a man may.
Yet am I a fool?


I feel the sun on my face sometimes.
I let it cleanse my soul as I must,
Seeming content, becoming free as a man is,
Sometimes.




Copyright 2006

A Day Passes Unremarked

A day passes unremarked, and yet a flower blooms.
Night beckons, and a solitary man will search his soul.
As sun yields to moon, so his heart yearns toward her.
Unexpected moment, wielding the most profound power.

He is animated again, awake and alive as a crystal aria,
Frail and barely audible, a melody of infinite peace
Piercing a life filled with doubt and anger, casting fear
Aside as a lingering presence fades with unshed tears.

Desire humbles, laying bare the prison of his mind.
A quiescent warning whispered in his ear, old wound
From another age when a soft bright smile stole his passion,
Leaving him an uncertain shell of bitter loneliness and pain.

Married to this malicious memory is his mind, closed to hope,
Prey to false remembrance; casting himself as victim.
Yet now to wonder, and to let time assuage melancholy spirt
With a golden spring, unlooked for and treasured as a gift.

Slowly discarded the recollection of that instant
When reckoned love became fractured and corrupt.
The pieces of his heart, once scattered and dead to light,
Respond now to a sun rising in the depths of her eyes.

Night passes, and a solitary man emerges from the cold
To truly love for the first time; to feel possibilities in her kiss,
And to catch the sweet sound of her laughter in his ears,
Precious and savored, like the welcome release of unabashed tears.




Copyright 2006

Trapped

I can't make you stay
Would hardly blame you if you went
I'm safe and I'm here
And I will always be for you
No matter how far you run
Or how long you spend away
I can be set aside
I hate it but I will endure

I can't make you come back
Would hardly expect you at my door
Shocked as hell when I got your message
Even shed a tear
I'm your life line as you flounder
I will come when you call
No questions for the time unmeasured
You chose to be away

I can't ask you to go
Can hardly stand it now you're here
I've loved you and still do
Even as I realize we are finished
I am now more than I was
I can exist on my own merits
No longer requiring your need of me
And tired of it
I want to go on
Though I'm trapped by you as before 

Copyright 1995

Fear and Folly

Alone I with myself and doors locked tight
So that none can invade this passionate self
Words only for me to color this page
Warning of great harm captured by stroke of pen
This calamity a gift of the paranoia in my soul

Foolish to don this mask and turn my face
From all the world's prying indiscreet eye
Holding my secrets from those who seek
Revealing fractions only to those unwilling to know
This special drape sewn with costumed intensity

Daunting the grand door to the feebleness of pride
Not to accept passage from this mere being
Limited to the most base future of a single fate
The bottom step of a great stair leading nowhere I can see
Climbing with eyes closed and blinded mind

Folly recognized and scorned by even the youngest child
To know so little of truth not to acknowledge the lie
Naked before all light yet refusing its warmth
Frightened to small vision and cast from the whole
Accepting ever the cruel love of four blank walls

Copyright 1994

Despair to Evolve

Disparaging
Where hides sense and logic on a crystal blue morn
Fluttered away in the autumn mist forever and utterly shorn

Ranting
How measure courtesy blocked and passed from sight
Harried soul bereft of kindness bound forever to a sea of midnight

Raging
Who calls another simple does himself most harm and hurt
Ego lies while friendships die and blow away like fallow dirt

Screaming
What does a road save guide and direct a pointless trail
Marred and broken signs steal progress; we march on to no avail


Despairing
When can a thing end that is not yet begun
Dreams measured against reality barter life from songs unsung


Evolving
Why ponder useless questions if true knowledge is sparingly doled
To feed the lust of ages before all breath grows forever cold








Copyright 1993

 

For Love of Words

As I think, so shall I become, evolved
in perception as much as in deed,
Wandering far afield on rational plains, yielding
effortlessly to the subtlety of vision.

Unhampered by solidity does the mind itself proclaim
a knowledge unseen. . .vistas upon horizons,
Distorted normality in a world gone missing
from itself; consciousness devoid of reason or sense.

Stimulated as by intellect, makers of a new rhetoric;
to strive in the unattainable glory of articulate rhyme;
Lofty eloquence grandly spoken to replace substance,
clarity foregone in vehement poesy.

Passionate speakers they, grandiose and bombastic,
blanketing nonsense in ornately turned phrase.
Pompous and foolish, but succeeding to best the fools,
almighty speech broker, bargaining his dose of Roget's.

The poet no less the offender, archly wrings meaning
from none via assorted rhythmic fancy.
Intonation his rule, pure diction on the page;
metaphoric euphoria in an overture of language.

Such as these do equate life's purpose to a word,
beautifully set in print with its fellows in
Happy pursuit of indelible verse; ticketed as prized
work by souls lost in pursuit of less.

For want of a simple fashioning of words to encase
a meaning clear and untainted by fanciful muse
Do some seek a widening of the gates, marrying mind to
vision, blending a thought with its true word.

Deeded in time to each thing comes real meaning,
uncluttered by pieces of man's rude intellect.
Brilliant insight stands apace, waiting for a simple thing;
thought, once accepted, keys knowledge.

Unfettered light then unleashed upon us all, and with
its luminescence the need to embellish is lost.
Speak what is meant and what is conveyed will be known
to all, understood for its own, for love of words.

Copyright 1992

Phoenix

He sat

And gazed with tired eye

Upon a sight born of 

Nature's first breath

Rolling playful ocean

Sun bathed sky of infinite motion

Forested garden, hawk's dominion

He breathed

Only to choke on mists

Set astir by raven's

Feathered wing

Fighting boundless beauty

Turning from ageless bounty

Dead to wondrous divinity

He burned

Did the phoenix

And from the dusted ash arose

In timeless splendor to eternity

Copyright 1993

My Favorite Time

Did you ever pause along the walk

to gaze above your head,

To turn your eyes toward white fluffy clouds

in a crisp blue sky?

Did you ever close your eyes

and partake of the cool clean breeze,

Imagining you could taste the smoky aromas

from summer's last cook outs?

That to me is September, my favorite time of year.

Did you ever open the front door

and dash back inside for a jacket,

Then stand shivering in the park

to see the subtle changing of a season?

Did you ever watch the children run and laugh,

tramping through piles of leaves and mud puddles,

Squealing like mad little piglets,

dropping to lie breathless on the damp ground?

That to me is October, my favorite time of year.

Did you ever think you'd lose your innocence,

that unchecked joy at simple existence,

Or that wonder could become cynical

in a world turned away from the child?

Did you ever expect to come full circle,

as season follows season, and winter returns,

To find a new humbleness, and a conviction that life,

with all its inanities, is indeed worth blessing?

That to me is November, my favorite time of year.

Perhaps to you, clouds simply block the sun,

and the wind blows smoke in your eyes.

Perhaps the leaves clutter your yard.

Perhaps children track mud through your house.

Perhaps you never had questions;

never wondered why a bee buzzed.

But on Christmas Eve, you built a bicycle,

and tried to make tab A fit slot B.

That to me is December, my favorite time of all.

Copyright 1993

A Volunteer Speaks

When in doubt, ask.

When the mood strikes, scream.

What meaning has bravery

To a frightened child's dream.

A star breathes cold fire.

Moon beams pale and dim.

Walk alone to a black beach

Where icons may swim.

Mustard is yellow,

But mayo is white.

An ambiguous yet useful

Observation of life.

Catch as catch can.

Against scattered thoughts defend.

Mock only fruitless bounty

While false angels tear and rend.

Be quick or be gone

To a hollow secret isle

On a boat cresting peaks

At the turn of nautical miles.

Truer than ten thousand lies

Untold yet forgotten.

Tangled skeins of straw-colored love,

Softly broken.

No pain, no illusion,

No greed or wanton lusts.

No joy, no dreams,

No acceptance of simple trust.

Winter comes and winter stays,

Building frosty towers.

It chokes and it binds,

Seeks to whither eternal flowers.

Children cry, children beg,

Children do not understand.

They laugh, they accept,

And reach toward your hands.

Necessity is as the tide,

Swept away yet sure to return.

Nothing is and nothing can be

Through glass darkly burned.

Yet come with me

To a place of wonder,

Where all things are bathed

In magical splendor.

Where I will teach

Of happiness and of joy,

Where all heats sing

Like children with shiny toys.

Do so, and I will fill it

With tales of great moment,

Basking in freedom to defeat

Most determined malcontent.

Bond with a fragrance so soft,

So true.

In every heart lies the way,

Even in you.

Breathe it, live it,

And make of your life a noble thing.

Roll down a grass covered hill

And rejoice in the spring.

Age is timeless,

Granted the young through trial and tears.

Yet the eld ones respect time,

As they age only in years.

Copyright 1993

As I Walked

As I walked, I saw a bird and grew very still;
A splendid white dove, come to share this quaint hill.

I smiled, to be touched by so gentle a taste of spring.
Then, quick as a sigh, the dove spooked and took wing.

My heart beat faster, bewitched by sudden flight,
Overwhelmed and slightly daunted, but punctured by insight.

How fleeting and precious can be the joys of love and faith,
Marred and cast aside by an admirer's softly exhaled breath.

I walked further, found a stone and rolled it.
I paced its circular journey until it bounced against a mate.

Seeing the first aside the new, my thoughts again grew bright.
One stone, added to another, row upon row, can bridge the night.

I continued my stroll, attentive but casually so,
Aware of the boundless beauty captivating my very soul.

Serene and content amidst fresh life in musical silence;
A young heart beat loudly, inviting all to rejoice in dance.

Soon flowers did I see, drinking life from a crystal pool,
And I stretched down among them, engulfed by brilliant hues;

Sweet wild flowers, poppies and jasmine, tossed by fickle breeze.
So pleasant; I forgot in my joy that spring blossoms make me sneeze.


Simple rain as I walked, to ease frantic senses;
Brief showers and welcome, soft and full of fragrances.


I paused to rest beneath a stately oak, contemplating the sky.
Raindrops spattered on leaf and limb, trickling softly in my eye.


Benign intelligence did I find as I walked,
Not tempted toward chronic need for ponderous talk.


Simple solitude the law, enforced by nature's perfect reason,
Balanced in daily wonder of Mother's ever nurturing seasons.




Copyright 1992

A New Day

Sometimes when I think, the sky turns bright.

Confusion fades, and an end is put to a long night.

Other times when I think I can only scream,

I say the hell with it and just have ice cream.

Ice cream is cold and chills the jumble inside,

Until emotions are flushed with the outgoing tide.

No longer drowning and able to float free,

I bask in the glory of an unexplored sea.

The sea of my mind is a fertile place,

Full of whispers and songs to keep me ahead of the pace.

When I let it, it serves me well.

Oft I miss a connection and tilt toward hell.

But hell is only for those who refuse to try.

I am not such as these, though at times I cry.

I go forward with patience, letting my mind lead the way,

Listening to what's inside, and creating my own new day. 

Copyright 1991

Watch Me

Watch me

For I can fly

I move with grace

Like condors in the sky

Watch me

For I can run

Like a cheetah

Chases a meal in the scorching sun

Can't stop me

Don't even try

For me life is a painting

Its canvas never dried

Know me

And keep my love

In your smile

Until the final hour has begun

Think of me

For I am life

In all its forms

Raised to staggering height

Do this not for me

For I do it well enough

But keep yourself foremost in mind

Your future glory to be sung

Copyright 1991

Far Side of the Door

Many times I stare at the ground

and wish it would swallow me whole.

Not an hour passes that I don't question

the use of setting new goals.

Yet as each day dawns, I awake

to don fresh clothes.

I live for the brief moments,

and the precious smiles I forever hold.

Above the trees stretches more than a sky;

it is there that I reach for my hope.

On the wings of jays wafts a gentle breeze;

such fragrant air to help me cope.

This life have I led, sometimes in love,

most often with hands tangled in tight rope.

Still, I work and I watch and I time the hours,

keeping my pace at a steady lope.

To long for the things we lack

is a symbol of ambition and not greed.

To remain lax in the effort to achieve greatness

denies most specific need.

The errant forays of youth often belie

lofty potential and prevent the deed.

Press on and listen openly to loud desire;

be ready to demand and refuse to plead.

Offer no excuses,

especially to yourself.

Question every aspect;

let no dream rest upon its shelf.

When your chance comes,

grasp it firmly and mark it well.

Seek the far side of the door,

burst it and with mighty voice yell.

Copyright 1991

Sun So Grand

More is made of less than any sane man can count.
Nothing is done by fretting so what's the worry about?
A dog will agonize over the best site to bury a bone.
Yet take heed of the cat with sense to leave well enough alone.

I have been unaware for the best parts of my life.
Turning over bits and scraps has caused naught but strife.
I thought waiting and not forcing was often the better course.
It can often be easiest to stay thrown than to remount the horse.

I'd like to meet the one who is hoarding all the answers,
Although it may be wisest to discover my questions first.
I could jump right in and get my whole self wet.
Adherence to logical progression has oft been my detriment.


In the beginning there may have been a word, long since forgotten
In the interest of advancing to the peak of the richest mountain.
Eternal youth the new vanity though wasted on us all.
Young or old we catch only the most significant balls.


It is said that a truer thing was never spoken.
I wonder where that ring of truth was first broken.
Difference is the key and point of all this trial,
Though most turn tail at the end of the longest mile.

What has to be done is to sort through the murk
And not pause for the things that are never going to work.
Embrace the active thought and pay heed to what may emerge.
The pieces are more coherent when what won't fit gets purged.


And so I go on my way to a more evenly designed me,
One who is less awkward and better able to see
What's out in front and leave the past where it belongs.
To carry excess baggage interferes with my songs.


If there were no night, would things still go bump?
If there were no fear, would you still feel that lump?
In a day filled with choices, how to know where to stand?
Face toward the warmth and see the sun so grand.



Copyright 1991