Viewing entries in
"poetry"
Hey God
Its’ me.
I can’t do this, not by myself
There are too many, too many
Fires, explosions, parched deserts and silent dreams
There are too many
Wanderers, sorted addictions and pending schemes
Weighing us down
Threatening to steal hope and violate peace
I can’t do this
The burden is too great while
Tears falling on dry soil
Evaporate joy
While empty water jars fill too quickly with
Despair
And buckets of despair are terribly heavy
I’m willing to do my part
Tired and afraid as I am
Alone…willing
Could you send someone?
Or two?
To walk beside me, encourage me
Maybe even guide me – just for a while?
The miles would seem shorter, at least
In the company of a friend
The weight lighter
When spread across shoulders
And the fear
That fear that taunts me from behind statistics
And speaks thick words of discouragement
That fear
Doesn't linger when
Others are around
The Metropolis of Me
This city in which I live
This metropolis of me
Where skyscrapers stretch to
Reach the heavens
Towers babbling about us being God
Where we are so busy, trapped
Looking through empty frames of
Microsoft’s Windows
That our own windows have become clouded
Panes draped with cob webs and smoke
Residue of distraction and automated existence
Stimulus and response
Repeat, read
Has replaced my repose and regrets
Sorted into files within files
Paperless creations, updates
Statuses are me
Monkey see monkey do
While buildings tilt
Monkeys stacking sticks and stones on top
Of hollow towers hoping to get a little higher
Closer to the source of us, the cause of me
Jonesing for a fix of divinity
Then one day
Most assuredly these shaking shells
Will fall, down, down
In thunderous silence
Crumbling my place
And in time I will
Tottering out into the remaining ash
Of all I've done, undone, un-filling
Perhaps discover that in
My climbing, building, borrowing of wastelands
In what time remains
Among the ashen debris
Will come to me, this spent man
Shadows stretching from horizon to setting
This one truth
The divine rests not in self-willed towers
Or constant circuits, surging, urging
Affirmations of the deeds of me
But rather in the me of me
That lives in this city
When freed
Of me
in my hands
in my hands
gentle and small
wonder and delight
a mingle of smiles and squirms
in my hands
the future rests
tasks to be learned
surprises of nature and mind
in my hands
a bundle of recollections
my daughter's squirming
my son's gentle dreams
in my hands
folded space carved by deep lines
happy scars, dancing aches
fill
my hands
Familiar
you
this creature with my face and eyes
small and fleet running rampant on my soul
what quest brings you here again
to chase and devour my joy
ever laughing as you go, flinging scorn and distain?
to me
troubler of spirits
rest here on my lap and tell me what fuels your frensy
how goes
your recent troubled flight?
weep with me as we wait together for the rain
waterfalls
might bring us sprites in drops of sweet dew.
let us tarry here
my familiar
The Voice of The Irises
This morning
Damp with it all
The purple tongues
Of the Irises
Threaten to speak of spilled memories
She always loved the spring
That the Irises announced
Arriving on palates
Of green and violet
Promises of tender possibilities
But, the spring never really changed
Anything of substance and
Colors run in summer rains
Pooling into charcoal swirls
And the Irises died
With a vain promise
Whispered into tomorrow’s
Memories
While Reading Poetry on A Rainy Sunday
words dance and weave
emotion
these singular assaults
passions with a clash of images and sensations
each kindly interrupted by its cousin
uninvited visits
each roughly terminated in mid touch
all to be known faintly
in momentary memory
and egregious imagining
(Special thanks to Nevine Sultan's poetry for today's inspiration)
still the pain...
shards slice within
crippling, forcing me to bow
feel the pain, yield to
the grip of limitation
NO! shouts my will
i will move on
i, this one of will and power
this man of means and strength
i will move, i will not yield
what are you?
a simple discomfort
a muscle in rebellion, ha!
within, the frosted grip seizes
pain, upon pain, slicing will from reality
leaving me
lying, crying in this moment
i cannot go on
i am beaten and crippled
i surrender
and, still the pain
Something
Has Changed
the rays of the morning sun warm my eyes
bringing awakening, awareness
i move, leaving Slumber's serenity
struggling into the commencement of a new day
something has changed
my mind begins to fly
racing through the memories of yesterday
lunging forward into today's challenges
hunting feverishly for the change, the problem
something has changed
have ancient lies come to light
to rest upon me, here demanding restitution?
have forgotten voices spoken shouts of condemnation, final judgements?
something has changed
my mind drowns in the chaos of uncountable confessions, untold trespasses
What!, my soul screams.
What rests upon me today?
something has changed
i move forward into the unknown
lifting my self and standing upon the morning's truth, and i know
something has changed
the pain is gone.
the rays of the morning sun warm my eyes
bringing awakening, awareness
i move, leaving Slumber's serenity
struggling into the commencement of a new day
something has changed
my mind begins to fly
racing through the memories of yesterday
lunging forward into today's challenges
hunting feverishly for the change, the problem
something has changed
have ancient lies come to light
to rest upon me, here demanding restitution?
have forgotten voices spoken shouts of condemnation, final judgements?
something has changed
my mind drowns in the chaos of uncountable confessions, untold trespasses
What!, my soul screams.
What rests upon me today?
something has changed
i move forward into the unknown
lifting my self and standing upon the morning's truth, and i know
something has changed
the pain is gone.
Meandering Meaning
frozen limbs bound in fear
eyes too dry for anymore tears
my heart lies latent in my chest
hoping, longing for endless rest
where are the dreams of days gone by
was it all some cruel perverted lie
can i move from this coffin skin
will my iced soul ever live again?
pain within, pain without
too parched my voice to release a shout
all that moves in this locked cage
is the glimmer of fire known as rage
where are the dreams of days gone by
was it all some cruel perverted lie
can i move from this coffin skin
will my iced soul ever live again?
explosion within, shattering these bonds
screams of life, demanding a new dawn
i will live, this day again will be
found zeal for life for i've been freed
here are the dreams of today my friends
laughter and wonder as this drama ascends
playing a part, living again
freed for the journey, ever to begin
freed for the journey, freed for this quest
living again to discover the rest
Truth's guided quest, a path of delight
ever onward, strive for the light
here are the dreams of today my friends
laughter and wonder as this drama ascends
playing a part, living again
freed for the journey, ever to begin
Trudgery
beads of perspiration mark trails
paths of necessary vigilance
arms stretch outward
balancing shoulds, oughts
marking delicate steps along the precipice
of doubt
muscles constrict, pounding
rhythms of familar excuses
tasks that move eternally forward
memories align harshly
jagged anguish and withered cravings
scream rebellious threats
of unwillingness
meanwhile
gentle wisps of liberated mist rise
lifting once bound possibilities
from soil and stone now
rising
supportive caresses
steady goes the step
a small fragment of life's weighty matter
falls
unburdening enough
of the moment
Enter the Artist
forgotten rooms fill with idle thoughts
of truth
those well intended dreams of sinless lives
and honest ways
collect, pilled high in remote corners
of memory
what can be done with this misshapen journey
this malformed essence of reality?
what artful transformation is possible from
dry clay, broken shards, spilt oils and trampled glass?
enter the artist, joyous in heart
playful in deed and masterful in work
hands gather fragments and shards
knowing only possibility, beginnings
moments of simple grandeur
glass pellets melt, broken clay softens,
molded into a mess, a mass, a un-shaped heap
of lust, love, zest and tenderness,
human thoughts and human deeds
let the creation begin!
Entangled
By the last micro thread of the spider’s web
Hanging
In a delicate balancing between desire to be free
From the casket of this cocoon
And to be safe from the fall to the ground
How came I upon this entanglement
But by little things, single threads of erroneous
Actions
Quiet discontentment resting feather-light
Clinging unassumingly to the sleeve of my façade
Until
Movement through my own self
Became hindered and slowly, progressed to
Halting proportions lost in one immobile
Case
Suspended by the last filament of my attachment
To you
Bound
the knot tightens
the grip of self within self
constricting fists of self hate and loathing
mauling my soul
doubled over in pain
breathless from the impact
blows of fury born of hatred and distrust
disemboweling my being
healing hands, where are you?
gentle touch of truth, come
come, come
release me, untie me, free me
tighter still, beyond limits and words
is this all?
the knot tightens
the grip of self within self
constricting fists of self hate and loathing
mauling my soul
doubled over in pain
breathless from the impact
blows of fury born of hatred and distrust
disemboweling my being
healing hands, where are you?
gentle touch of truth, come
come, come
release me, untie me, free me
tighter still, beyond limits and words
is this all?
Change
Another second ticks past
Another moment that won’t last
Time again yields to nothing new
Leaves behind victories and youth
Those who thought one life could change
Our world from scandal and pain
Belief that hope and desire
Would cast water upon the fire
Yet failures and callused minds
Bind with broken promises find
Brilliant victories shout
Vanquished limits and doubts
Without giving merit to those
Whose lives already arose
From the cemeteries
Of soiled and doubtful policies