Absolution

In the twilight we are met
by specters of regret,
each shuffling unholy fiend
a nightmare if we let
ourselves be guillotined
by the pitted blade of debt
they brandish as a threat.

Be prepared as photons fade
to face a fearsome blade
but never let that phantom win
deny the shameful shade
be deaf to its devious din
and maybe when goodbyes are bade
your peace will be made.

Disarray

Things are becoming so blurry
and I wonder if it's my eyes
or because I'm in such a hurry
I no longer question the lies
but I'm really starting to worry
in the face of my looming demise
that life is a laughable flurry
of unfocused frustrating tries.

Ruling

A monarch's migration depends
on how deftly it defends
against opposing tides
that stir the air through which it glides
and if, when it descends
it finds where truth resides.

Purchase

The giant succeeded (as well as he could)
in selling out futures for which he once stood
his leeches skedaddled (as they were quite full)
and when they get bloated their greed tends to dull
the last loyal beasties (as you may have guessed)
were bartered as assets and now they're depressed
in business it matters (as anyone knows)
that ground remains solid for everyone's toes.

Update and Plea to All Followers of Average Poet

Well I did it. I didn't think it was going to happen but it did and now it leaves me wondering what next? Yes I actually reached my goal of two years straight posting without missing a day. Will I make it three in a row? I am going to try but if I do miss a day I won't be too upset, two years running is pretty good as far as I'm concerned. And I'm also fast approaching another milestone: my 2000th post on this blog which should be in just over two months if I keep the streak going so stay tuned.

I must admit, I've been running low on steam lately, so my offerings here haven't been as varied as usual. Plus as you can see from my 9/20/13 post that music has been gaining ground in the battle for my attention. I think writing lyrics was one of my main reasons to even start writing, and now that our band is putting these songs together it is inspiring me to put more of my energy in that area.

Which leads me to the plea mentioned in my post title. I have never asked anything of anyone in this virtual world, and have been blessed with some really perceptive readers that leave gratifying and generous comments on my poems. But now with a week left in the Get Out of the Garage contest, I am asking any and all followers of Average Poet to kindly share our videos (see link below on 9/20/13 post) and help us get recognized so I can do what I have truly wanted to do all my life - make music. Thank you and rock on! \m/

Rap

He moves about with baby steps because
it's difficult to walk with dungarees
whose waistband loosely hangs around your knees
the way his would-be ghetto garment does,
defiance oozes out from every pore
(he longs to be just like his hero thug)
so ignorance is his designer drug
and he can't wait until he shoots some more.
Devoid of all respect for anyone
he hides behind a mask of bogus bling
and when he sees a pretty little thing
his filth encrusted mouth begins to run,
he says, "Now hit me with those digits girl!"
She slaps him so hard it makes his toes curl.

Wicket

I fear that my stickiest issue
is not giving much of a shit
my fortitude folds like tissue
just one good blow and I quit

there must be a way to grow stronger
despite every destitute try
and be more determined the longer
acceptance may take me to ply.

Easy Target

I made the fatal mistake
of listening to a friend
and I feel the ache
an entry wound will make
from those that don't pretend

and pierce you in a blink
with cutting disregard
right through your weakest link
so now I think
I'll never drop my guard.

Storied

Purveyor of an ancient art
you capitalize at first
upon the fear in every heart
to punctuate the worst

with characters you redefine
the mold of standard thought
and set good bait on every line
ensuring schools are caught

by emphasizing on suspense
you're murder to resist
they'll gladly laugh at the expense
to know your latest twist.

After Life

I wish I could tell you the pain will end
it doesn't, though it may dull
and just when you think your heart might mend
it comes right back in full.

The loss of a parent is more than a death
it's losing a part of your soul
and as they are gone, so too is our breath
attempting to stay in control

remembering moments we could've shared love
instead of our differing views
or praying that they are in heaven above
when hit with the horrible news.

We're given this life to live as we please
and seldom give thanks for the gift
it's all just a circle and we're the degrees
completing our loop at the rift

where we go to encounter our relatives
removed from the mortal plane
and bask in the joy our Savior gives
devoid of fear or pain.


***Dedicated to members of our extended family who lost both their parents recently, not at the same time but close and very unexpectedly, our prayers are with you.***

Please Vote for Our Band

I know the quality of these videos isn't the best but the only way to get votes in this contest is by sharing or viewing them as much as possible so please start clicking and I will personally come to your house and cook you a delicious meal, then perhaps a nice back rub, and maybe some fine wine, well you get the picture ;^)

Trio

We band together, common men
that share a common goal:
to turn the volume up to ten
releasing all control
we practice in our rustic den
and gladly pay the toll
because we really love it when
we're paid to rock-n-roll!

Contending

We all have pain we struggle through
my mother felt enough for three
but did the best that she could do

She lost her Dad in World War II
and realized when oh so wee
we all have pain to struggle through,

and then she was remanded to
a boarding school despite her plea
but did the best that she could do

in hopes a home would soon ensue,
a happy hearth that never came to be,
we all have pain we struggle through.

Then, with my Dad, a family grew
together, to a limited degree,
Mom did the best that she could do

but certain demons eat the glue
that binds us to this harsh reality:
we all have pain we struggle through
while doing the best that we can do.

Disfigurement

How can scars flare up again
while happiness is rare
and why do we relive our pain
but never its repair?

Is that all there is to life,
a failure to forget
the plague of petty pointless strife
and unresolved regret

that left unchecked will mutilate
the wonderment we feel
which nullifies our weakened state
so we can truly heal.

Sway

The sun is fierce with power
as it arcs across the sky
but every gentle flower
reaches out to it on high
with the corn as I drive by
each vibrant leaflet glowing
like emeralds in the crown
of He who is all-knowing
and made the light shine down.

Vantage

I need a new perspective
to get a better view,
perception is selective
and seldom shows what's true,

please guide me to a summit
for an unobstructed look
and let illusion plummet
far below what we will brook;

the forest gets quite crowded
once beyond your favorite tree
while the plain can become shrouded
in a haze of mystery,

a panorama beckons
those immune to prideful eyes
but no one ever reckons
they'll get lost in their own lies.

Squawk

The dove that crowns our chimney top is mourning
a giant V of geese flies by adorning
the summer sky where scavengers are scorning
a mother blackbird's most insistent warning.

Byproduct

The mills that made this town are dropping fast
like stories of prosperity long past
how flatly these behemoths are destroyed
once they were abruptly unemployed
abandoned looms devoid of warp and weft
corroded any coin or commerce left
a town where tattered remnants grimly grieve
because their roots are much too deep to leave.

Failure

Every fiber I possess
resists the strain of tensile stress
from outside forces of despair
whose dismal lodes are tough to bear
but under their duress
I just may tear.

Denatured

One golden butterfly and three that are white
are flitting around in frivolous flight
and gracefully gliding on the air
between the blooms that sprout everywhere.

The summer breeze is crisply clean
which makes this moment so serene
it's hard to imagine such a day marks
the loss of too many innocent sparks

the victims of a pointless war
that forfeited existence for
possession of appointed sod
when we should be as One with God.

Stolid

My muse demands attention
or at least a passing glance
we all deserve a chance
even those that shun convention

but rhymes are disreputable
so I sit here and spin
my yarns while deep within
this dream remains immutable.

Personified

The clouds are swirling higher
in a white and wispy gyre
as smoky as desire

The sky is vast and clear
and bluer than a tear
when dreams must disappear

The blustered trees are heaving
their green facade deceiving
for soon the kids are leaving

The water in the creek
is gurgling and tries to speak
the secret it must leak.

Call

If we really are just cosmic pawns
why are we even trying
why go out and mow our lawns
or bother deifying

a myth we pray is real enough
to somehow intervene
and pull us from the crumbling bluff
on which we smugly lean.

Pitiful

You can hear the pitter-patter
of your infantile prattle
playing patty cake for pity
you're not even worth the battle!

Key of Be

The air is rich with autumn broth
as squirrels forsake fair weather sloth
and songs of summer scintillate
in every gold and purple swath

of flowers that cohabitate
with cattails and the syndicate
of brambles just begun to turn
from green to a more seasoned state

intractable enough to spurn
frigidity that's bound to burn
away the gift of younger years
as temperate climes adjourn

at least until the churning gears
ensure that springtime reappears
and makes the meadow sing again
the symphony that perseveres.

Sustenance

Upon my time for giving up the ghost
(and hopefully that's still a distant mile)
the earthly thing that I will miss the most
is catching my best friend's infectious smile,
his roguish grin is sometimes all I need
to help forget the unrepentant stares
of those whose foolish games are guaranteed
to make dejected sighs erupt in pairs.
I watch the clock each noon impatiently
and fidget as a gnawing hunger grows
to feel my petty problems fade away
for when I eat my lunch he sits with me
and once he's big I really hope he knows
how much he always made his Papa's day.

Apple Flambe

The wily serpent shall not cease
it's petulant pursuit
or ever grant a moments peace
to foragers of fruit

by promissssing to always know
where ssssweeter flesh is found
while never quite revealing though
indulgent souls are bound

to be encumbered on this plane
by woe beyond belief
and death will never ease the pain
in burning pits of grief.

Close Shave

I can tell it's bound to be bushy
it's sprouting new tendrils right now
why must time be so pushy?
I wonder while trimming my brow

but I have to try staying alert
or else I might look scary
and based on this most recent spurt
seems aging could get hairy.

Pushers

The rigors of the process
assail me with stress
just like the buttons
I dutifully press
(they deserve it - oh yes)
they're gullible gluttons
that foster the mess
and live to depress.

Finale

The woods are dim and misted
the reaper spreads his hands
but comes back empty-fisted
for still the structure stands

as crickets chirp a chorus
that's far from any dirge
percussive rain plays for us
a beat that drives our urge

to dance with new abandon
across the gossamer grain
and chase what we imagine
while measures yet remain.