Washout

The swollen river limped along
while I just sat there helpless
without a crutch or river song
to even out its cadence

it passed me by quite sluggishly
intent on keeping current
and stayed its course pugnaciously
despite this dumb deterrent.

Nirvana

I make my way upriver to that green and holy place
then sit atop the hill so I can think
the sun and wind take turns caressing my contented face
and I truly feel I stand at heaven’s brink.

So many thoughts assail my mind, much like a manic mob
and all they do is clamor to get out,
‘We only want to be expressed’ I hear one of them sob
“Well first you have to go through me!” I shout.

My head is crowned with careless clouds, my roots embrace the earth
my soul is soothed by nature’s splendid bliss
I don’t know if there’s an afterlife, or a ritual rebirth
but if there is, I hope it’s just like this.

Relative

The bulk of the strife
beneath which I smother
was caused by another
I’ve met in this life

if it wasn’t for others
our lives would be calm
with just one qualm—
no sisters or brothers.

Tailoring

The blinds are old
and gravity warps
the slats into a slanted grin,
the night is colder
than a corpse
while pallid moonlight filters in
like gossamer for you to spin

into a yarn
that’s dark yet shines
with iridescent hints
of when to darn
your worn designs
and when to dab with vibrant tints
those dreary unattractive prints.

Debatable

If everything's the same
as some folk would claim
well that would make living lackluster and lame

but we’ve all been designed
to express our own mind
and I hope everybody is thusly inclined.

Reflecting

It’s just another rock we pass
in flight around this ball of gas
but when the Sun’s prodigious light
hits our distant neighbor right
a regal glow transforms the sky
and etches dreams upon the eye
of any that are sensitive
to understanding why we live
and how we can extend this race
beyond the realms of time and space.

Estuary

I landed by the murky river for a spell
beside the other bleached and barkless dogs
that lay about like scattered Linkin Logs
some peevish giant hand had sent pell-mell,
and though I try, I can’t dispel

this current deep inside that pulls me down
to scuttle on the bottom as a crab
who doesn’t care if things are cold and drab
for that just makes it easier to drown
within the tributary frown

that leaves alluvial soil flecked with gilt
adjacent to the harshly pounding sea
which swallows solid ground methodically
along with any levees that are built
until there’s nothing left but sordid silt.

Majesty

The thistle stood as tall as me
their spiny crowns so sparkly
from drops of morning dew that shone
like diamonds in creation’s throne.

Trim

Our longest dreams don’t oft ensue
for life is a strange impulsive quest
but we find a way to muddle through.

We start, so certain North is true
until the distant stars suggest
our longest dreams don’t oft ensue

then we wander for a year or two
in hopes that even God can jest
but we find a way to muddle through

and set a course completely new
determined thunder in our breast.
Our longest dreams don’t oft ensue

the winds can change (as they will do)
but still we tack our very best
and find a way to muddle through.

As Captain of a one man crew
it’s up to us to lay to rest
those longer dreams that won’t ensue
so we can somehow muddle through.

Charity

I keep a jar of sweets
upon the shelf above my desk
a trove of fruity treats
for each and every passing guest

especially that dude that scrubs
the head but never cleans his paws
he stuffs his grimy stubs
within while gorge inside me claws

it’s way right up my throat,
so smiling I say “Have a ball!”
he empties it but stops to note
that I’m the nicest guy of all.

Fathoms

We cast our nets whose strands are made
from eldritch energies
to help ensnare the orbs of jade
with mystic imageries
derived from observations of
the vast chaotic seas
where we are tossed on swells of love
and deep extremities.


***Well it was an extremely productive weekend. At a book sale I found:
1) A paperback copy of Arthur Rimbaud's 'Illuminations'
2) A hardcover copy of Carl Sandburg's 'Honey and Salt'
3) A paperback copy of Chaucer's 'Canterbury Tales'
4) A play by Dylan Thomas
5) A collection of 20 essays (by some famous writers) for the aspiring writer
6) A copy of a Greek Mythology reference guide
7) A hardcover copy of Thomas Wolfe's 'Of Time and The River'

and it is from this last tome that I would like to share a remarkable excerpt which spoke to me in a voice I needed to hear right now, and which inspired this latest poem-

"At that instant he saw, in one blaze of light, an image of unutterable conviction, the reason why the artist works and lives and has his being--the reward he seeks--the only reward he really cares about, without which there is nothing. It is to snare the spirits of mankind in nets of magic, to make his life prevail through his creation, to wreak the vision of his life, the rude and painful substance of his own experience, into the congruence of blazing and enchanted images that are themselves the core of life, the essential pattern whence all other things proceed, the kernel of eternity."

need I say more?***

Afflicted

I have a certain way with words
or so some people say
‘but poetry is for the birds’
the thought they don’t relay

but I must keep on penning it
for it’s a damned disease
that won’t allow the ill to quit
until their last dry wheeze.

A Somber Summer Day

A somber summer day?
Beware of such a thing
when angry clouds turn gray
and heaven’s teardrops sting.

The host will cry for having seen
a somber summer day
our planet is alive and green
unlike the ashen clay

condemned to never feel a ray
of golden sun again.
A somber summer day
is a dark occasion when

we face the cold abyss
and feverishly pray
that all six souls are granted bliss
this somber summer day.

Subordinate?

An introvert
will not pervert
the truth to get attention
but those that lie
to catch your eye
should cause you apprehension.

Here Comes the Sun

Nuclear fusion
is not an illusion
just gaze into the blazing sun
to clear up your confusion

if we can conceive it
I’m sure that we’ll achieve it
to actually harness a living star
who would ever believe it?

Exposé

You dug and dug and really dug
until the dirt was to your liking
now you stand supremely smug
because you know the price is hiking

but it’s for the brave, not the brash
that fortune saves the biggest stash
beware your dreams of easy cash
as things can alter in a flash!

Ask Away

Deep within the breast of each question
there lies the soul of a child
fresh and eager to learn
wide-eyed
and uncertain
about the prospect of change
but above all,
radiating the ability to adapt.


***Sorry I actually had a few days off and spent most of it outside. I hope everyone had a great holiday here in America and to others around the world I send good wishes. This poem was posted for a prompt on a new site I was lucky enough to be invited into. I hope it blossoms into a true community for writers of poetry. You can click on the link (in Cybernian Hotspots) called Poetry Blog Roll. It's run by a cool guy named Robb whose blog Burdens and Smiles is also linked to the right. I'm sure I will be adding more so keep checking. Thanks Robb and keep it up!***

Skewers

The quantum mechanics of Why
is a theorem that none can supply
for humans have yet to command
the knowledge of something so grand
with data that isn’t a lie.