Wednesday, December 31, 2008
Tuesday, December 30, 2008
deters potential dwelling,
you knock but no one’s there.
With premises so spare
the site’s just not compelling,
the structure’s disrepair
shows a lack of any care
or future chance for selling.
You knock but no one’s there,
suspended on the stair
your knuckles slowly swelling.
The structure’s disrepair
is a danger to beware
and sadly, quite repelling.
You knock but no one’s there
no one smart would ever dare
ignore the signs so telling
of structural disrepair.
You knock but no one’s there.
Monday, December 29, 2008
but weariness prevailed
so nestled in my nighttime nook
I drifted off then sailed
beyond the crassly crying crush
to mazes deep within
where fear is heightened by the hush
before my foes begin
pursuing me relentlessly
through sinister abodes
as I scramble senselessly
while confidence corrodes
and urgently my sneakers churn
through slowly shrinking halls
exhausted muscles start to burn
momentum brusquely stalls,
reluctantly I turn to fold
then waken, most distraught,
will I ever be paroled
from cares that keep me caught?
Sunday, December 28, 2008
Saturday, December 27, 2008
Thursday, December 25, 2008
The frost on my guitar is beckoning
with such an enigmatic, wistful grin
it prompts me to release the strain within
before that final frigid reckoning
prevents all chances for a healthy crop
whose bounty is a blessing to enjoy.
Why else extend the effort we employ
if not to taste the sweetest nectar, drop
by precious drop, and savor the bouquet?
Of course, there would be certain strings attached,
some pesky thorns have left me sorely scratched
but then again, they must be there to play.
I’ve gained another furrow, now my field
seems ready to produce a yearned for yield.
Wednesday, December 24, 2008
Tuesday, December 23, 2008
Saturday, December 20, 2008
some type of great achievement,
to prominently exercise
my voice and be vehement
but all I did was compromise
and now in my bereavement
I see that all she sought from me
was love, unconditionally—
but distances are seldom gauged
until it seems we’re too far;
despite what battles have been waged
we must drop the wounds that scar
for every one of us is caged
by doubting who we are
within a pen it’s hard to flee
although we share a common key.
Friday, December 19, 2008
Thursday, December 18, 2008
Wednesday, December 17, 2008
and if unselfish thoughts could be cashed in at the bank
would there be anyone with money to be spent
or only paupers wishing they were frank
if truth was gold and every honest word was worth a cent?
If love was sure, and if we never questioned its extent
and if we never dared to dangle on that pliant plank
would we ever see that distant continent
before we hit the briny sea and sank—
if love was sure perhaps we’d fathom its extent.
Monday, December 15, 2008
Saturday, December 13, 2008
as I traveled to the show
lending me the comfort
of its silky silver glow,
everything was glistening
like crystal as I passed
the limbs adorned with trinkets
that the bitter storm amassed,
assurances of argent
helped reveal new fields to reap
which sparkled with such splendor
I don’t ever want to sleep.
Friday, December 12, 2008
Thursday, December 11, 2008
Wednesday, December 10, 2008
Tuesday, December 09, 2008
Monday, December 08, 2008
Sunday, December 07, 2008
Friday, December 05, 2008
Thursday, December 04, 2008
Wednesday, December 03, 2008
from the clinging crimson mud
and met a girl whose auburn
hair consumed him in a flood
of fiercely raging torrents
he was helpless to resist,
despite the coming warrants
martial minds would soon enlist.
They took their time together
breaking down forbidden walls
forgetting every fetter
like the bugle’s distant calls;
to fall in fields that flourished
bearing blooms of every name
upon the mattress furnished
shrugging off unwanted shame,
embracing with such passion
not a hair could fit between
these lovers whose attraction
made all conflict seem obscene.
But others harbored ardor
much less innocent indeed,
for patriotic honor
they were boisterous to bleed
determined to deliver
all deserters of the cause
through testaments of terror
those in power labeled laws.
A unit was instructed
“Bring him back alive or dead”
they searched until they spotted
him with her whose hair was red,
they sought to merely capture
him, but chaos soon ensued
as automatic chatter
spoke of pain to those pursued
and when they spied the twosome
lying silent, hand in hand
they knew they found a reason
more profound than any land.
Tuesday, December 02, 2008
Monday, December 01, 2008
Sunday, November 30, 2008
Saturday, November 29, 2008
the most important moments flashing by
without those empty spaces that supply
a place to store inconsequential strife;
imagine (if you can) that throaty voice
embellishing each action packed event
with clever little innuendos meant
to help you always make the proper choice
so sentimental scenes will never drag
beyond the point that no one really cares
or make you see how many empty chairs
resulted when the plot began to lag—
and at the end, what kind of teaser lurks,
perhaps another sequel in the works?
Thursday, November 27, 2008
Wednesday, November 26, 2008
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
outside my window where I watch the world so wearily—
a puddle’s penetrated
perfect circles generated
a lonely man frustrated
remembers days less inundated—
the gutter gulps down gallons and the wind begins to gust
as iron tenets slowly turn to silent ocher dust.
Monday, November 24, 2008
the bus went by a little church
and every kid, except one lass
ignored the weathered concrete perch
where someone much less fortunate
would stop to pray for needed aid,
she knew that he was indigent
so secretly, her plan was made.
Her birthday came but she eschewed
a trip to splurge within the mall,
instead she bought a bag of food
and gave the greatest gift of all.
Friday, November 21, 2008
Thursday, November 20, 2008
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
the winter sun will set
no point in being surly
or fostering regret
as Jupiter and Venus dance
across a twilit sky
some haughty ravens gaze askance
at he who cannot fly
despite the best alignment
we often find ourselves
repressed by a confinement
where sunlight never delves
but every body interacts
with every other thing
though beady eyes ignore the facts
and savagely take wing
beside the green container
where refuse lured the flock
examining who’s saner
will make one gauge their stock
while improvised confluence turns
this knave into a knight
a blinding burst of starlight burns
with unabashed delight.
Monday, November 17, 2008
to help inspire me
a spineless sort whose title
is now obscurity.
***Hello. Can you believe that 3 years ago today I started this blog? I was home healing from gall bladder surgery and decided to continue my online offerings with the next logical step - self publishing. It's been interesting and I thank all who have left comments over the years. The first poem I posted was inspired by an annual garage sale I went to. It's sponsored by a local church and always has a great book selection which yielded that year the complete works of (are you ready?) Keats, Byron, and Milton all for a whopping $1.50. Well at any rate, this year I went and found a pair of old books by Thomas S. Jones Jr., a poet I had never heard of, one book even says it's only one of 600 printed! Well in honor of my three year anniversary, and to expose Mr. Jones' poetry to a global audience, I present to you a poem from his book Sonnets and Quatrains printed in 1928. I chose this poem because it is beautiful and it also was the day my Mom's service took place.
All Soul's Night
On a hill, an empty nest that swings
From a bare tree bathed in tranquil light
Of a slow-rising moon; in lazy flight
A flock of crows drift by on ragged wings;
A fitful breeze from the far valley brings
A blend of sounds that die into the night—
Hoofs on the highway and the echoing fright
Of a sheep-dog, the stir of startled things.
On quiet slopes that to the river spread,
Where scattered leaves a shroud of scarlet fling,
Row upon row of silent gray, stones gleam
That mark the resting places of the dead;
Dead!—lo, they share the joys of deathless Spring,
Theirs the reality, and yours the dream.
But at least Mr. Jones came up in a search, my next obscure poet has the distinction of being the oldest published author in my collection, at least in the age of the book. This book was printed in 1868 and contains verse by one S. Stockton Hornor, enjoy:
The Dying Prayer
I always wished to die at sunset
May I behold, by light of day,
The fields below, the skies above;
As life's dim shadows fade away,
Let me gaze on the face I love!
And may I hear that voice once more,
before my heart's last throb shall cease;
That gentle footstep on the floor,
With echo softly whispering peace!
Oh let me see the sun go down,
Then calmly sink ere it shall rise;
And may I gain that priceless crown,
The angels wear in Paradise!
Sunday, November 16, 2008
from barren autumn branches amply bent
a lonely figure lumbers feeling lost
for callow trinkets couldn’t tame the cost
of vicious hatred’s vengeful heated vent
that plainly wounded pity wielding peers.
The dimness slowly dwindles, sending dawn
to open up the options users opt
for, quelling nervous questions’ nagging. Quit
the grumpy kicking, grow some kind of grit—
your mama isn’t missing if she mopped,
but younger efforts yielded errors (yawn).
To zero out the zenith of your zeal
will undermine the solid with unreal.
Friday, November 14, 2008
when you freely give
and life will never pass you by
if you learn to live,
faith can often be reborn
with strength enough to cling
in pensive hours of the morn
when Nature starts to sing,
and hope routinely catches one
like when the folks we coyly shun
show how our kind can care.
***I wanted to take a moment to apologize for all the gloominess lately, I'm just having a hard time this week and this helps to get it out of my system. I would like to thank all the people that have taken the time to send beautiful cards with beautiful words in them. I cherish these more than mere words can explain because it is helping me get through the darkness. You are all in my thoughts and prayers.***
Thursday, November 13, 2008
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
was a chunk of granite hewn
from the quarry where the detritus
of broken dreams were strewn,
a dismal place of mourning
too extensive to contain
that spawned a jagged mountain
with regret in every vein.
I told myself I’d tried enough
erosion though revealed my bluff.
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
except to live without
though sadly that just isn’t so
for lies are all we humans know,
but still we strive to act devout
delivering a worthy show.
The emptiness we can’t deny
despite our bravest try
becomes consuming if allowed
and often we are too damn proud
to realize we must rely
on help from those we’ve disavowed.
An armistice must be maintained,
developing our friends with care
avoiding those that fuel despair
so trust can be sustained
throughout the whole affair.
Monday, November 10, 2008
Friday, November 07, 2008
Thursday, November 06, 2008
Wednesday, November 05, 2008
conditioned to attack
but failed to expeditiously
get into the black;
the speaker vowed to spread the cash
like Jesus sharing loaves
and then a most resounding crash
sent them out in droves.
Is Lincoln proud of what we have
would Jefferson abhor
the fact that Pennsylvania Ave.
ain’t so white no more?
Saturday, November 01, 2008
and sturdy heart that overflowed with good,
she nurtured us the only way she could
while hazarding her own uneven road,
a private path that had more dips than hills
yet always seemed to somehow level out
for faith was much more powerful than doubt
when harbored by her feistiest of wills,
whose spirit brightly sparkled when she spoke.
But tragically, the journey took its toll
and every dream she had of being whole
ascended in a final puff of smoke.
At last, she’s free from all the painful fuss
and hopefully her best lives on through us.
My Mother passed away tragically in a house fire earlier this week. The poem above was read by my Sister today at the service. We found this photo with her stuff and I think it is so beautiful...
We also found this little gem from my parents wedding day (they're split now) but I was blown away by this tender shot
I don't usually do any type of PSA but I urge anyone who reads this to pick up the phone and call that relative or friend you haven't talk to in a while, or drop them a line. Time is so short and you never know what may happen. I'm taking a few days off for a head break but I ask that anyone so inclined to say a little prayer for my Mom to finally have peace. Thanks, and I would also like to thank my friend Shirley for inspiring the end of this poem.
Friday, October 31, 2008
Thursday, October 30, 2008
with skies as blue as they’ve ever been
the sun so bright and high
reminding me of summers when
we didn’t have to cry
or wish a last goodbye
to one who suffers yet again
a pain they could never deny.
I state once more from my own pen:
what a beautiful day to die.
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
as seagulls soar serenely through the air
confusion pumps through every single vein
I fumble to recite a feeble prayer
my cool facade a challenge to maintain
because this test called life is so unfair.
I plead for her redemption as I kneel
and hope, for once, I’m granted my appeal.
Tuesday, October 28, 2008
after witnessing a piece of Kingsford’s best
that ere the valiant firemen could smother
was the person you remember as your mother—
too toasted to be woken by the flame
she finally found the peace she longed to claim
and now that she is free of her despair
perhaps I can maneuver my own share.
Saturday, October 25, 2008
Friday, October 24, 2008
Thursday, October 23, 2008
Wednesday, October 22, 2008
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
Monday, October 20, 2008
Thursday, October 16, 2008
whose heightened brilliance had begun
to surely dwindle every day
the Ferris wheel slowly spun
and everywhere were those at play
among the mechanized melee
where fetching looks of shy unease
made fledgling lovers senses sway
deciphering each freckled tease
responsible for wobbly knees
and laughing ragamuffins yearned
to join balloons upon the breeze.
But soon the carnival is spurned
as weary wicks are quickly burned
despite the wonders once revealed
when Ferris wheels slowly turned.
Wednesday, October 15, 2008
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
Monday, October 13, 2008
Friday, October 10, 2008
Thursday, October 09, 2008
Wednesday, October 08, 2008
but still so immature
uncertain why I now abhor
the innocently pure—
perhaps a greenish worm infests
to turn my bounty fallow
a greedy grub whose gnaw ingests
more core with each new swallow
along with every precious bit
of pulp that hasn’t dried
to form a leper’s rattle
from the bitter seeds inside.
Monday, October 06, 2008
will fastidiously flake
aside the withered husk
of every foothold they forsake
encouraging the ache
that comes from being brusk
and darting for that little break
between the rocks where they can make
it safely to the soothing dusk
whose inky tendrils take
away the need to fake.
Saturday, October 04, 2008
Thursday, October 02, 2008
Wednesday, October 01, 2008
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
I feel compelled to share a tale I know
about a fierce nomadic loner born
when Ares hung brightly one fateful morn.
Possessed of great strength and terrible ire
he stalked through darkness, a killer for hire
no name was given for none had the chance
to see this phantom once fixed in his glance.
One evening a sultan of some renown
was keen to punish affronts to the crown
he called to the blackest fold of his tent
“Come forth marauder of fearsome decent!”
Alert to the promise of sanctioned death
this wraith appeared like ethereal breath,
a menacing glint in his feral eyes
subdued those seated before they could rise.
The buzzing of flies broke a nervous still
then someone boldly said, “Come, drink your fill,
our honeyed wine will soothe your weary bones
while sultry harem girls elicit moans.”
“Such lavish trappings soften those of wealth
I choose to don the thrifty threads of stealth,
enjoy the indulgence that makes you weak
for culling goes quicker among the meek.
Now who has called me to vanquish a foe?
The name of the prey is all I need know
my blade will quickly drain every last dreg
unless you would like them to shamelessly beg.”
The sultan sat breathless, consumed by his fear
but managed to muster his haughtiest sneer
“The name is Verona, remember it well
and send the ungrateful temptress to hell!”
“Her head shall be yours or my life in its place.”
he said with no hint of doubt on his face
as the stifled assemblage sat wringing soft hands
and watched him disintegrate into dark sands.
Monday, September 29, 2008
Friday, September 26, 2008
by how you are treed
for one fruitful branch
can banish the need
to bashfully blanch
deprived of a tranche
or cover a cut
to stoically stanch
the blood when they gut
you and cockily strut
displaying their sneers
on jawbones that jut
so never show fears
when blasted with jeers
remember your value
for these are your peers.
Thursday, September 25, 2008
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
Sunday, September 21, 2008
Saturday, September 20, 2008
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
Monday, September 15, 2008
despite the fact there isn’t much to lose
(nor hardly any ego left to bruise)
I grapple with the gallivanting gray,
my grasp becoming looser every day
allowing lucid rivulets to ooze
between the digits doubts discreetly use
manipulating confidence to sway.
Maturity begins to finally prey
upon my eyes, disintegrating hues
and hiding things behind a blurry ruse
that’s more disturbing than I care to say.
Defiantly I hold my favorite pen
to duly write… now where was I again?
Friday, September 12, 2008
became a pliant sprout
and quickly grasped the tragic need
to harbor constant doubt
for many elements can force
a tender stem to bow
by battering without remorse
the strength to disavow.
Environmental factors spurred
formation of a bark
that helps deflect debris that’s stirred
when howling tempests spark
but also hinders any form
with rigidness that borders on
Thursday, September 11, 2008
but once things get splattered
will deeper enigmas be all they produce?
There’s no big solution
to war and pollution
empirical data can ever deduce
for greed is chaotic
raw clay is a substance not easily tamed;
we foster collision
essential to see how the whole may be framed.
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
Tuesday, September 09, 2008
Monday, September 08, 2008
Sunday, September 07, 2008
Saturday, September 06, 2008
Wednesday, September 03, 2008
each waving blade alive with bursts of light
that seem to hail my unexpected visit
as though I were the archetypal knight,
but lately my defenses have been failing
depending on this armor rife with chinks
and confidence in victory is ailing,
abandoning a countenance that sinks
until I take a moment to remember
it’s not the outer shell that makes you strong—
the best defense against a harsh December
is filling up your heart with summer’s song.
Tuesday, September 02, 2008
Monday, September 01, 2008
Sunday, August 31, 2008
Friday, August 29, 2008
Thursday, August 28, 2008
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
how maulers maim
the verdant blush
with blades that crush
all life away,
and most ignore
the gaping sore
as smugness spurns
and progress churns
the green to gray—
they paint their lines
like spendthrift spines
to herd the spree
too spent to see
how much we pay.
Monday, August 25, 2008
Saturday, August 23, 2008
Thursday, August 21, 2008
Wednesday, August 20, 2008
Tuesday, August 19, 2008
Sunday, August 17, 2008
Friday, August 15, 2008
Wednesday, August 13, 2008
Monday, August 11, 2008
the ridiculous wretch
was a curious codger from Kent
shacked up in a shed
with no room for a bed
but extremely affordable rent.
around anything he couldn’t grasp,
with a visage quite vexed
he’d prattle, perplexed
like a button unable to clasp.
as he woefully wound
his way through the sweltering swamp
to forage for food
be it fresh or pre-chewed
his hunger cared little for pomp.
the ridiculous wretch
was immune to the world and its ways
too placid to plot
he lived with his lot
all alone for the rest of his days.
Friday, August 08, 2008
I was munching on some wings
as hair upon my arm stood out
“Man that coating stings!”
A swig of amber goodness made
me groggily carefree
enough to count each timber laid
in the floor geometry.
“Bartender please decant some more
to chase this chicken down,
I can’t taste, my lips are sore
it’s time for all my woes to drown.”
***since inspiration has been hard to find lately I decided to play jigsaw poem. Just click here to find out how***
Tuesday, August 05, 2008
Thursday, July 31, 2008
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
whose sagging framework seems to sulk
submits to the prolonged decay
of those that live beyond their day;
the undergrowth has claimed the bulk
and soon, it will just fade away.
The morning sun is snugly warm
caressing this diminished form
that strives to make some distance ere
the westward skies are filled with glare
or shrouded by a sudden storm
negating efforts to prepare.
So many thoughts, such little time
confounded by infernal rhyme
that counteracts the urge to quit
until there’s been a proper fit
despite accumulated grime
and ailing girders sure to split.
Well as my friend Shirley noted in her comment, the poem below was inspired at a very specific place, and while it could be seen as a figurative place, it is an actual physical place that I love to visit as well.
So I started to think about all the poems inspired by my walks there and found this little one (which was also published in the Taj Mahal Review), and this one as well. It is a magnificent hilltop overlooking the sprawling Mohawk River Valley, just awe inspiring.
But I also remembered all the things I've thought of while riding my bike like this, or this, or this, or this, or this, or this, or even this and figured I'd leave some links to read through as I'm going camping for a few days. Take care!!
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
to that shrine where wild flowers grow
and clouds come close enough to know;
I beckoned one to socialize
but it ignored my squeaky cries
preferring the untainted skies
then left without a second glance—
consoled by blossoms’ breezy dance
I managed a forgiving stance
forgetting what it means to frown
just long enough to cast eyes down
and watch a monarch leave it’s crown
to also fly away scot-free,
somehow escaping gravity
and all the hapless fools like me
that wonder on such perfect days
if we could ever thusly raise
ourselves above our worldly ways.
Sunday, July 27, 2008
anointed by a nobler gas
ascend beyond where eagles dare,
but even the loftiest still need air;
as turbulent clouds of grayish white
obscured the rising from my sight
I knew its hence uncharted flight
would falter sans that valiant knight—
deflated dreams descend to dirt
when champions become inert.
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
while embracing the sun
every morn like a lover returned,
for each time I swoon
and my pulse starts to run
means the pale one’s advances were spurned;
but late in the night
as I pensively peer
at the radiant face I adore
I am stung by the bite
of a burgeoning fear
that our triad will soon be no more.
Thursday, July 17, 2008
Wednesday, July 16, 2008
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
to someone up there
who chances to look at the ground
while I fight the gleam
to triumphantly stare
at a race resolutely profound—
but what good are planes
or cars and the such
how well will they get us around
when Man at last drains
what we covet so much
not one precious drop to be found.
Friday, July 11, 2008
I hang upon articulated lines
while music courses through each rhythmic vein
like whispers through the undulating pines
that carry far beyond the chosen plain
to help compose fantastical designs
discernable to any that will choose
to listen with the ears we seldom use.
Thursday, July 10, 2008
like a sliver of hope in the sky—
the wink of an omniscient eye
dismissing the need to atone
for even the craggiest stone
with a penchant to coldly deny
despite being perfectly blunt
albeit not terribly round
or (some would say) deeply profound.
Embedded faults command a grunt
but sometimes it’s more than the brunt
that keeps you on the ground—
Wednesday, July 09, 2008
as highly educated minds dispense
their over-written tripe and then commence
to gripe about who may have truly scored
an instant classic; and there’s the old coot
(of course) proclaimed as ‘He Who Knows It All’
concocting quips with aggravating gall
that make you wish you had a gun to shoot
him dead. But then, you’d more than likely miss
and have to suffer through his evil taunts,
or worse yet hear stories of anal haunts
while he recounts his boyish backdoor bliss.
I try to fit in, but never quite click—
it seems I’m inept at stroking a prick.
Tuesday, July 08, 2008
In what light do we limn
the mysterious whim
of our own destiny?
Are we partial to clay?
With what tool do we shape
or conveniently scrape
Is the model the key?
Is it balance we seek
as we grow more oblique?
With what eyes do we see?
Friday, July 04, 2008
how a plea to be free
could be signed on a day such as this
the sun’s bright and high
each breeze like a sigh
of barely containable bliss.
What creature could stand
a governing hand
compelled to cavort in a crown?
There’s so much to do
and days are too few
to squander one tick bowing down.
Wednesday, July 02, 2008
from the order I had scrambled
aware the only crime
would be in never having gambled
for struggling by corporate rules
is much too all consuming,
I’ve had my share of fancy fools’
so belly up and grab a plate
the fare is quite delicious
without the risk of gaining weight
from richness that’s pernicious.
Tuesday, July 01, 2008
Monday, June 30, 2008
Sunday, June 29, 2008
or the cybernetic thrall
I’m lulled into submission
by the clock upon the wall;
each tick is like a cannon shot
proclaiming the demise
of one more chance to change the plot
that circumstance supplies.
I hear a low commotion
as it clatters far away
which calls derailed devotion
to forget the ties and stray—
such furrows crenelate my brow
that shadows blind my sight,
I’m blowing out the candle now
it’s time to say goodnight.
Friday, June 27, 2008
who knew what insidious illness loomed
for remnants cut so many times
that only fragile fringe remains
to dangle like forgotten chimes
as any wind worth catching wanes.
Decaying streets became a sheath
exposing cobblestones beneath
that fester like infected cuts
in need of an effective cure
but all there is are deeper ruts
ensuring sickness will endure.
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
I stayed to forsake
my waning humanity lest I relapse,
if forced to partake
bravado will break
releasing the sorrow that clogs each synapse.
I long to relate
but fail to create
a permanent pathway through which to commune
and sadly I’ll wait
until it’s too late
my own wake attended by none but the moon.
Monday, June 23, 2008
as a hammer confers with concrete,
ignoring the hardhats that labor to jar
me from reverie’s soothing retreat:
I dreamt of moments in the grass
observing pliant nimbus pass
the vigor in my tawny skin
as vibrant as my eager grin,
no thoughts of senseless enmity
to soil the unfettered me
nor any pressing plans to ply
just me, the earth, the endless sky...
A deafening crash brings me back to the truth
and I blink in the dazzling glare
as photons more feisty than those of my youth
incite me with each fleeting flare.
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
Friday, June 13, 2008
Thursday, June 12, 2008
abashed that the eggheads were brimming with shit
he found out that lingo (while sounding quite sweet)
should not be confused with a plan that’s complete
he called on his captain (a grizzled old cuss)
to foster tradition and bury this fuss
while those in the trenches (who bled all along)
are wondering what the hell took so damn long!?!
Sunday, June 08, 2008
Slip between your hands
Like sands from a broken hour glass
Sweeping up the sands of time
We often find our hidden selves
But then it’s too late to change what could’ve been helped
Home alone on a rainy day
Wondering who ordered the storm
The sound of rain drops on the sill
Like moments from your life
Drip on in a dreadful monotone
Hopeless, relentless problems
Running through your mind
Suddenly your dream falls behind
Looking back to find its face
Buried in the crowd
It hides itself never to be found
Floating through society
Adrift without an oar
About to sink like a hefty stone
The slap of waves against your hull
Like moments from your life
Slosh on in a dreadful monotone
Running nowhere on a treadmill
Watching life pass by
You better say goodbye
Thursday, June 05, 2008
How I used to love to play
Running, jumping, climbing trees
Sharing secrets with the breeze
But then my promise made me new
I had no friends I could turn to
The price seemed much too high before
Now I wish I had paid more
How my parents taunted me
Refusing needed sympathy
Driving me to fulfill their dreams
They never heard my silent screams
Alone I laughed, alone I cried
Alone I chose to run and hide
I never wanted company
My only friend was misery
Remembering those days at school
When I played the silent fool
Afraid to share my tales of pain
Afraid of being controlled again
The dance was all I lived to do
It kept me strong and pulled me through
The times when no one seemed to care
The troubled times of deep despair
Silence, all I dreamed about
Was constantly being shut out
By the applause of those who always failed
To see the hate my smile veiled
Pain, the only thing real for me
Was confused with artistic eccentricity
Never feeling understood
I’ve grown up cold and subdued
Remembering those days on stage
I suppress a fleeting rage
That cries for recompense
That strives to make some sense
My dancers legs, no longer whole
Destroyed by fate in a single blow
Lie uselessly below my waist
Displaying the result of my haste
Yes, four wheels make up most of me
Two large, two small in harmony
The rest is just a wasted mass
Barely able to make a gasp
If only I had tried a little more
If only I had cared before
Perhaps these endless days of pain
Would not be driving me insane
Tuesday, June 03, 2008
But you don’t feel right
You get into your car
And burn into the night
Trees whizzing by
The stars in the sky
Tears flood your eyes
You can’t see the road
The needle hits eighty
You’ve sweat on your brow
When it passes one hundred
You lose your resolve
You stomp on the brakes
They fail to take
You realize your mistake
By then you’ve lost control
You gave it too much gas
You went much too fast
There were no cars to pass
You just gave it too much gas
Spinning and swerving
All over the road
You can’t see the truck
There’s no way to avoid
Crushed and bleeding you lay
You hear someone say
The ambulance is on the way
Oh the hell with it
From the operating table
The doctor looks grim
He’s shaking his head
Everything grows dim
In a recovery room
Draped with gloom
You find out you’re doomed
You’ll never walk again
You gave it too much gas
You went much too fast
Never again will you dance
You just gave it too much gas
Sunday, June 01, 2008
Wasting away, getting high all the while
See his bitter smile
Because, he says, there’s no sense
In being someone special
If you can’t be someone free
So why don’t we all go get stoned
So we can be the same
Too blind to see
Too blind to see
What’s eating us away inside
With jealousy and petty pride
Too wrapped up
In our forlorn dreams
It’s enough to
Make me want to scream
And scream he will
When one that has it all throws it all away
He’ll be sorry another day
Oh glory child with your
Hair brushed and angelic smile
Can’t you see the damage you’ve done?
Just to have your own way
Even the slightest victory
You discard common sense
And turn your back on dignity
Sneaking out to have your fun
Soon it will be history
But history has a way of haunting the future
Glory child better hide your bitter smile
Friday, May 23, 2008
Can’t you feel it my son?
You were born to be great
To be number one
You must cease all your playing
And practice non-stop
If you have any hopes
Of reaching the top
It’s in you my son
You must not be afraid
Just keep on dancing
Till your fortune is made
Then you can care for us
As we’ve cared for you
Can’t you feel it my son
Our greatest dreams come true?
I see in you a seed
Of blind discontent
And selfish greed
To an unknown extent
Oh mother dear
You knew from the start
To remove the fear
You rip out the heart
But you forgot that hate
Soon takes its place
And now it’s too late
For me to erase
The anger I feel
When I look at you
This just can’t be real
My worst nightmare come true.
Day after day
Hour upon hour
I go through the motions
I grunt and perspire,
But my mind is moving
Apart from my feet
It’s dreaming of freedom
Of walking the street—
I’m never allowed
Out of the house
I have no friends
My parents know about
I’m just a lonely child
Forced to be a dancer
It seems to be a riddle
For which there is no simple answer.
Saturday, May 17, 2008
Wednesday, May 14, 2008
Friday, May 09, 2008
my heart was like an open door;
the portal to such pristine bliss
unlocked, I thought, for evermore.
But as orbits quickly flew
I felt the pull of gravity,
every time my burden grew
I gained another weighty key.
My ring has grown over time
denoting quite a heavy load,
it jingles with a haunting chime
that rings goodbye to days of old.
Now my heart, no longer free
clamors in a rusting cage,
as I scrounge for one small key
to loose the fetters of old age.
Wednesday, May 07, 2008
Monday, May 05, 2008
Thursday, May 01, 2008
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
of personal expression,
in the life changing force
of uncensored confession?
Can one voice validate
realities that resonate
deep inside each private pate
without conveying harbored hate?
The jury hangs, suspended
by the thinnest thread of hair,
confluence is contended
but communion starts with care.
Friday, April 25, 2008
Monday, April 21, 2008
scraped off of the shoe
that costs more than I make in a week,
while swallowing shit
as they trust I should do
for the rich feel deprived sans the meek.
I contemplate change
for my pocket has none
yet this mountain has reached a new peak—
they say there’s a range
beyond all this fun
where the lowly may find what they seek.
Friday, April 18, 2008
a nascent patch
where buds are new
and chipmunks snatch
what grub they can
as I ride by
immune to man
they barely shy
away from me.
Despite this jaunt
I am not free
my duties haunt
me every day
I have no time
to think or play
or jot a rhyme—
but this is not
the proper place
to mull my lot
I’d rather race
along this path
until I shed
this pointless wrath
and smile instead.
Thursday, April 17, 2008
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
Thursday, April 10, 2008
a quaint commemoration of continued survival
I wonder what dreams merit revival.
Each revolution I turn less inspired,
deeper in doubt my soul becomes mired,
will life seem worth living once time has expired?
Extinguishing wicks with receding relish
trying to think of a doable wish—
oh well, I hope the cake’s delish.
Wednesday, April 09, 2008
Tuesday, April 08, 2008
Monday, April 07, 2008
Wednesday, April 02, 2008
Monday, March 31, 2008
Friday, March 28, 2008
Thursday, March 27, 2008
Wednesday, March 26, 2008
(yeah, a regular pain in the butt)
He was a musician
(boy he played you like a fiddle)
He was an orator
(man does that guy ever shut up?)
He was a friend
(God, we’ll miss him)
He was a decent guy
but now he’s gone
we can only try
to move along.
***Rest in peace John***
Monday, March 24, 2008
at times become an awful chore
when love is all they have in store?
So crippled by our own conceit
enfeebled hearts refuse to beat
with mercy for the indiscreet
that make the most forbearing cringe
as they impishly impinge
once heralded by squeaky hinge.
Perhaps we should be thankful for
those that choose to use our door
before they can come back no more.
Friday, March 21, 2008
Thursday, March 20, 2008
just cruising through infinity
with stellar sites cascading by
while hyper-drive propels me nigh
the center of the universe
from which all energies disperse
to intertwine and incubate
the matter that comprises fate—
but fingers press upon the screen
prevented entrance to the scene
or escape from earthly strife
that passes for a so called life.
Wednesday, March 19, 2008
Monday, March 17, 2008
Sunday, March 16, 2008
make you see the cold face
of this world’s reality
in all of it’s ferocity;
a sad and desolate place
that reeks of dark curiosities
and borderline insanity.
some, a bit fanatical,
endeavor to advance their cause
regardless of eventual
damage causing rituals
like war, which has it’s own laws
denying right to trial
for all things cruel and vile.
Friday, March 14, 2008
fill your stylus with light
but doctrines of doom
come from inkiest night
and moments of mirth
should be cherished as such
while we question our worth
or reluctance to touch
with the words we acquire
through precocious parley
as enigmas inspire
imagination to play.
Friday, March 07, 2008
Thursday, March 06, 2008
Next up and I’m sure no big surprise to anyone that has visited my blog, Shirley Allard. She started this Word Catalyst magazine thing and it just seems to be getting bigger and bigger every month. Next month being a national event, Shirley is really working hard to bring you the best issue yet and I know it won’t disappoint. Shirley of course has her own blog also and I would like to direct you to this little gem she just posted. Is that title autobiographical? ;)
I now would like to thank someone that has left me some truly generous comments of encouragement and who is also a great writer in my humble opinion. Noah the Great, someone that says it like it is with style. Sometimes it’s dark, sometimes it’s funny, but his writing is always clever and original. This poem got stuck in my brain, so head over and let him know how good it is. Thanks Noah!
And last but certainly not least, the man that taught me what blogging’s all about, the original bloggin’ poet, Billy Jones. This guy can and does write about everything, just look here, and is also a tireless supporter of others. Thanks Billy!!
Well these were just off the top of my head. More will be coming in future installments as I have been fortunate enough to have some truly kind visitors to my little online world of words that deserve many thanks. Later.
Wednesday, March 05, 2008
Sunday, March 02, 2008
to multiply as fortune grins
amid the starry slip of night,
developing a will to fight.
The wheel spins, a race begins
to stigmatize divergent sins
and stratify unblemished skins
while never learning from the past
just how unbelievably fast
the wheel spins. A race begins
each morning with determined dins
despite the fact that no one wins,
they rev their motors really loud
to fall right in behind the crowd
as wheels spin — the race begins!
Saturday, March 01, 2008
impaled by pillars of steel
to make an epic exodus
beyond the dirty deal
in search of something real.
Once past the pressing, stagnant air
conveyance altered my view;
along the thrumming thoroughfare
I watched a wreck or two
no blinker could undo.
It doesn’t take a lot of drive
to head where nowhere goes
and steering clear won’t satisfy
as need for baggage grows
before my exit shows.
Friday, February 29, 2008
Tuesday, February 26, 2008
Sunday, February 24, 2008
imparting salutations breezily
and breathe the sweet cologne that wafts upon
invigorating gusts that easily
dispel the winter doldrums dragging on,
accumulating drifts inside of me.
I pull my collar up to warm my chin
in lieu of golden kisses on my skin.
As angles change, the chance to see protracts
but only if a pupil seeks the truth,
hallucinations often pose as facts
when altered by the heady state of youth
and even sully patronizing pacts
of those a little longer in the tooth
that hide behind their overweening grin
denial of the emptiness within.
We all require temperate climes to bloom
and solid clay to hold us tenderly
when certain days of unexpected gloom
precipitate their misty misery,
and if tomorrow brings my final doom
I’ll face the end with much felicity
unburdened by my mitigated sin,
as haunting hints of hyacinth begin.
Friday, February 22, 2008
Wednesday, February 20, 2008
Tuesday, February 19, 2008
they stand for more than that
obstructing an improper view
or keeping out the cat;
at times they lend complete support
sometimes they’re just for show
defining a defenseless sort
with nowhere else to go—
so cry behind, or sit astride
or lean against these things
like rats that scurry on inside
the structure building brings.
Monday, February 18, 2008
Friday, February 15, 2008
a root to spur the seedling sown
when offspring of the average dust
surrendered to their primal lust
before the temple, cold as stone
could crumble, as it surely must.
Yon titan with a voice of silk
has helped identify my ilk,
Moneta emphasized the line
whose balm, at times, can be divine
while opposites serve curdled milk
more bitter than fermented whine.
This fever can become quite rash
and left unchecked, abruptly brash
to aggravate the thinnest skin
with shameless shares of sheer chagrin
that issue from a massive stash
unequal to the total sin.
Despite the tribal urge to dance
to celebrate my circumstance,
beneath this aerie I will lie
a mote beside a mountain high
entranced until I catch a glance
of blazing raiment streaking by.
***This may help decipher the above***
Thursday, February 14, 2008
what’s on the rise
to flee the lies
they choose demise
with pills or knives
or messy dives
on taking lives;
would never flare
with someone there
to show they care—
if signals shine
that chill your spine
don’t say “You’re fine!”
proffer a line.
Monday, February 11, 2008
Saturday, February 09, 2008
Friday, February 08, 2008
Thursday, February 07, 2008
Wednesday, February 06, 2008
I’m painfully aware my meager words mean naught,
yet still wishing they could somehow make a difference
maybe even lend someone a warm and happy thought.
Liquid desire streams, scribbling impotent hieroglyphics;
remember as you read this jaunt, the answer lies within.
Forgive me, for I do not mean to be pontific
but much can be accomplished with hard work and discipline.
Alas these words are just so trite, I flounder in frustration—
I’ll never pen the perfect phrase or write the sweetest prose,
instinctively recording my descent into damnation,
dipping in the inkwell as my lifeblood slowly flows.
Monday, February 04, 2008
For those that may not know, on top of my usual dreary hourly job which sucks the life right out of me on a daily basis, I also operate a small diner on the side plus play in a band at night. Needless to say it has been a challenge, but I knew it would be when it all started and I'm not complaining.
But on certain days I get cranky, particularly when I realize I have not had a day off in over a month. My head hurts and my eyes get blurry, making it difficult to engage in any type of creative endeavor, let alone even look at a computer. Hence my sporadic spurts of posting/commenting.
The hospitality business is often a thankless one, though I have encountered a lot of good eggs along with the few inevitable bad ones. From my observations, most people just need to be around other people communicating, great food is a bonus.
Which brings me to the heart of my impromptu (love that word) ramble, for you see, one thing we are 'famous' for, and which requires tremendous work to keep prepped, is our home fries, made only from fresh potatoes that must be boiled and peeled continuously. The other day while paring some spuds I came upon a perfectly heart-shaped potato. Not an anatomically correct one, but one shaped like those ubiquitous red blobs that Cupid takes aim at this time every year. Of course my pre-programmed response was, "How sweet, perhaps I should save it to show my wife." Then I remembered my last chance to rest, which was New Years Day btw, and I couldn't wait to slice into that little sucker, cut it into bite-size pieces, fry it up and eat it!
Thank you, please come again.
Saturday, February 02, 2008
as fingers forget
the key to compelling expression
but sometimes the scales
tear off weighty wails
which prompts me to voice this confession,
for on those rare nights
that deftness ignites
my chops with harmonic persuasion
I know it’s a gift
from across the great rift,
a melodically mystic occasion.
Friday, February 01, 2008
Well apparently I have been tagged by 3 different people with this award ( Billy, Shirley, Dan) and I am surprised to say the least. Usually it feels like my meager mewlings are being issued by this guy:
But in the spirit in which it was given, I humbly accept and shall now list my obligatory three things that make writing good and powerful before listing my five recipients.
The three things I feel make good writing are:
1. Avoidance of cliches
2. Crisp unique images
3. Loading each line with ore
and now (drum roll please) I pass the feline ferocity on to these whose blogs have been a constant source of entertainment and inspiration:
1. Ozymandiaz at Ocellus
2. Soulless at Unguarded Utterance
3. Russell at Yuckelbel's Canon
4. Dr. Ng at Always More Beyond
5. Brian at Brief Poems
Thursday, January 31, 2008
Monday, January 28, 2008
vaster than the sea
stronger than the tides
that long to break upon the land
at last completely free
and wander past the sand
But gravity pulls harder now
making surges ebb
furrowing my brow
with troughs much deeper every day
like spaces in the web
of rigging christened by the spray
across my grounded prow.
Friday, January 25, 2008
Thursday, January 24, 2008
Wednesday, January 23, 2008
Tuesday, January 22, 2008
we search for signs
that might display
a place to rest among the pines
that innocently sway
Will left turn out alright
or could a rut
become your plight?
Resist the urge to smugly strut
because your goal’s in sight.
The curious should stray
beyond the trail
of beaten clay
to find what wisdom will entail
as way leads on to way.
Monday, January 21, 2008
Sunday, January 20, 2008
Friday, January 18, 2008
Thursday, January 17, 2008
will render me spent
but I’ve pent up dissent
too intense to relent
so beware and prepare
for a very good scare
as I share my despair—
is there no one to care?
one of my favorite bloggers and a truly nice guy left a great poem in my comments inspired by this cheap whine so I had to post it below. Thanks Oz! My reply is above ;)
Like a chimney in a city of yore
I spew rage billowing black
Acrid bile from my burning core
Fuming from my gaping stack
To the skies
My anger flies
Obvious for the world to see
But countless chimneys rise
Rendering mine to obscurity
Wednesday, January 16, 2008
of emerald razors long and lean
that slashed across a freckled nose
intent on sniffing out some foes
in which to drain a magazine.
With gnarly sticks we’d all convene
beside that farmer’s furrowed field
alive with furtive fronds of green
to camouflage a sly marine
determined not to meekly yield.
Our bloodlust couldn’t be concealed
so anxious to say, “BANG! You’re dead!”
no treaty would be signed or sealed
or higher court could be appealed
to stop the drops that must be shed.
But after the insurgents fled
we three would make our way back home
to eat then scurry off to bed
while playing back within our head
that conflict on the fertile loam.
As oldest, I was first to roam
forsaking sod to stalk the street
beset upon by steely chrome
and tenets of a vicious tome
embedded in the hard concrete.
The front became a cold retreat
from which I never traveled back
and though we siblings seldom meet
my self absorptions still compete
with pieces I refuse to lack,
and now they’ve shipped one to Iraq
beyond the land of beaten ploughs
I feel my heart about to crack
my troubled face morosely slack
remembering those summer rows.
Tuesday, January 15, 2008
Sunday, January 13, 2008
Friday, January 11, 2008
Thursday, January 10, 2008
Wednesday, January 09, 2008
Sunday, January 06, 2008
Friday, January 04, 2008
about a gothic spire
the biting winter banter whips
their rhetoric much higher—
a glint of opalescent flame
alerts me to the scythe
whose dark side lay devoid of blame
and infinitely blithe.
As chills assail my solitude
I scan the sky for signs
but verity is seldom viewed
within one’s own designs.
Thursday, January 03, 2008
we forsake the advice of our peers
and the comfort that once kept us warm
in the promise of earlier years.
We are dazzled by stars out of reach
in pursuit of a heavenly form
but are anxious to learn what they teach
if it aids in outshining the norm.
From the stillness that follows a storm
we begin to see splendor revealed;
in pursuit of a heavenly form
the most prudent approach is to yield
to the cosmic concerto above
well beyond the insipient swarm—
there will never be unreturned love
like pursuing a heavenly form.