"Painting is silent poetry, and poetry is painting that speaks." Simonides, 6th-5th century, B.C.
Sunday, November 18, 2007
Collision
time and time again
and you never saw me coming
I ran over you
to get your attention
and you closed your eyes
I ran up to you
blocking escape
still you managed to turn away
I ran around you
an orbit of desire
and you never broke your stride
I ran away from you
fighting the pull within
and I missed the tears you shed
for me
Monday, November 5, 2007
one wish, before I go
it's a messy way to live
but sometimes I rush into things
and in my haste I say
it will all work out
for the best
I'm sure
but I'm not really sure
I stick to my guns and
plant my feet firmly
and come whatever may
I believe
unfortunately my belief is in others
and I have no control over their actions
I once thought I could influence people
by behaving in the right manner
and being nice, polite, helpful
I ended up hurt, friendless, confused
kicked about and used
taken for granted
"do unto others"
doesn't mean squat to most people
it's does to me though
I'm still the optimist
most of the time
and I still believe
that what I do can affect
someone's behavior
I just hope
to see it
one day
before
I
die
Sunday, November 4, 2007
slumber
swimming in the sea of the unconciousness
broke the surface
desperation
coupled with the overwhelming sense of fear
can wreak havoc
the mind bent to the memory
warping around the twisted depravity like a poison vine
deadly chokehold
my psyche pushed the memory back
drowned it out with illusions and lies
silence returned
the memory stirred
the illusions whirled
my head swam
and I slept
the sleep
of devils and angels
which was I?
Thursday, October 25, 2007
rooftops
of evening's dusk laden sky
pointing to the heavens
stoically
some are faintly visible,
lit by the glow a million stars
on the ground
my rooftop
a launching pad for a dreamer's dreams
and reflections
I am aware that I can't fly
but my fantasies betray me
as my dreams come crashing
back to earth
terra firma
awaits
my arrival
Poetry Tag
like a cymbal
crashing fast against his soul,
a soul detached from mind and body,
shivering in the dark
and fearing the coming light
he fled to a dingy back alley
I found this poem fragment at the http://ravynsnest.wordpress.com.
Please play with us! Pick up the poem and take us on a walk through dreams, or follow our dreamwalk forward and back!
How this works:
It’s a game of poetry tag. Be the first to post TAG in the comments. Then take these lines and add one, in a post on your own blog, along with these instructions. Whoever adds the nineteenth line then takes the poem to Poets Who Blog at http://poetswhoblog.blogspot.com/ and puts the whole poem in the comment section there. Each person who plays need to also mention what site you were at when you found the poem so that other bloggers can follow the breadcrumbs back to this poem. You can play more than once but not twice in a row
Thursday, October 18, 2007
lost in a transition
I cannot tell what direction I'm going
but my engine keeps running strong
and my head keeps humming along
to some song I have yet to create
but that doesn't mean it isn't great
it's just not here to share, or hear
it stays here, in my head, with the dread
I feel when I am wandering, lost
because my internal compass seems broken
along with my internal clock
my timing is more than a little off
and the spring in my step may have sprung
so I cannot arrive at my conclusions
without mentally limping along
humming that song
that doesn't exist
until I get my bearings
again
Monday, October 8, 2007
In loving memory...
In a matter of a few short days, she fell ill and we discovered she had a massive growth in her abdomen. She was miserable, lethargic and could barely stand up. We did what we felt was best for her. The idea of her suffering and going through surgeries and repeated treatments was too much for any of us to handle. And her eyes begged for help that just wasn't available.
Jasmine, we love you and we will miss you dearly. You were a pure joy.
We hope heaven is filled with Twizzlers and popcorn for you.
Monday, October 1, 2007
Home
as the sun sets early
the leaves dance their way
across my memory
the air is thick with
wood smoke curling lazily
from brick chimneys
and burning leaves
bees buzz purposely
around fallen apples
getting their fill before
the inevitable sleep
dried flowers and yellowing lawns
crunch underfoot
as I climb the hill
on the last leg of the journey
I'm almost home
Wednesday, September 19, 2007
Moving
With that in mind, I won't be posting for the next few weeks because we'll be moving.
I will try to post something as soon as I have internet access, all the pieces of my computer (and our new home) assembled, and after I rest my weary bones. It may take a little while.
Downsizing sucks too.
Especially when moving.
But I digress.
I'll write again soon. I hope.
Where did all this stuff come from?
Daydreamer
Friday, September 14, 2007
Looking back
Clumsily paints her face
A mask she will hide behind
A façade of beauty and grace
A woman brushes her hair
As tears fall from her eyes
The beauty has passed too quickly
Only time left to cry
Looking back on yesterday
Those innocent days of innocent dreams
Life was so very simple then
What could it all mean?
Looking back in wonder
To the days of lost dreams
The princess, the hero, the legend in the making
Where did they all lead?
Looking back with wanting
To live those days sorely missed
Never quite content
To reminisce
Looking back
A boy wakes up early
Takes a lengthy run
Attends all the practices
The crowd loves this one
A man walks too slowly
His body large and bones weak
Days of glory passed too quickly by
Left him humble and meek
Looking back on yesterday
Those innocent days of innocent dreams
Life was so very simple then
What could it all mean?
Looking back in wonder
To the days of lost dreams
The princess, the hero, the legend in the making
Where did they all lead?
Looking back with wanting
To live those days sorely missed
Never quite content
To reminisce
Looking back
Nothing can change the past
Still we’re
Looking back
Thursday, August 23, 2007
What time is it?
hauntingly familiar moment without
a hand for support or guidance
I feel I'm slipping away
from the place that held me fast
unfastened, faster, fasting
from the emotions and memories
scrapbooks encased in my cranium
shared with no one
falling away from the repetitiveness
the repetitiveness
the repetitive
repeatedly told that this is good
this is the way
this is right
when it was wrong
the wrong direction
the wrong reflection
reflecting what we want to
see rose colored glasses
out of focus
wander freely
think openly
speak
these things we take
for granted every day
can be taken away
these things we hold so dear
in such high regard
are sometimes illusions
these thoughts of security and safety
a net unsecure
slips like sand through our fingers
my cup runneth over
with a beverage of your choosing
bitter wine mulled in better times
better forgotten today
but I still drink away
with nothing more to say
aloud
can you hear the clock ticking?
Tuesday, August 21, 2007
Unlimited Credit
for the privilege
To be like everyone else
for the option
I don’t want to pay
for what comes naturally
Sunday, August 12, 2007
More changes and new songs
Saturday, August 4, 2007
Einstein's Ghost
To play a song, simply click on the link titled Songs under the heading Artists Media, select a song (click on the song title), click on Play and enjoy.
Let me know what you think.
It’s a good day
Some days it's truly amazing
How all the shit of the world seems
To avoid your shoe
And you realize
It's good to be alive
Some day's it's truly a miracle
That all of life's assholes manage
To drive behind someone else
And you realize
It's a good day, today
Some day's it's really a gift
When the grumpy bastards stay home
And your shift goes smoothly
you realize
It's a good day to be alive
It's a good day
Currently in my CD player....Fair To Midland and Korn
It's definitely worth a listen (or ten.) Don't just sit there, go buy it!!!!
I also just purchased the new Korn cd (I don't even know the title.) The single "Evolution" is incredible, and the rest of the cd (from one pass through) sounds great.
I will also have new music on the way very soon. Very, very soon....
Wednesday, August 1, 2007
Really not sure
Breathing in the vapor of your anger
You dispel a cavalcade of pain
Bellowing with insistent anger
You breathe hate and anger out in flame
Am I to blame
For this latest series of misfortune
Am I to blame
Again? For this travesty and injustice
What is right, what is wrong?
It's easier if you'd just tell me what I'm doing wrong
What is clean, what is pure?
How and am I supposed to know
If you're unsure?
Breathing out the waste of your anger
I disperse an avalanche of pleas
Seeking out my own safety
I breathe in a sense of relief
I'm not to blame
For the latest series of misfortune
I'm not to blame
For this travesty and injustice
Who is right, who is wrong?
It's easier to tell if we know what's going on
Who is clean, who is sure?
In this day and age no one
No one is ever really sure
Breathing out a sigh of relief
We forgo all the pleasantries
Seeking an end to this misery
We find different places to breathe
We're not blame
For the latest series of misfortunes
We're not to blame
For a society of travesties
We're not right, we're not wrong
We're just trying to figure out what's going on
We're not clean, we're unsure
Like everyone else, we think
We're not really sure
Look up to the sky and ask why
Look deep down inside and ask why
We're really not sure
Lineage
my arms spread
to accommodate for its size and fragility
The worn edges crumble lightly, sending a cascade
of history, battered and yellowed, to the floor
I stare through water stains at a young man, unsmiling
he wears the garb of a World War One soldier,
all creases and wool, leggings and boots
his right hand rests on the edge an ornate table
his left hand hangs at his side, fingers drawn
a single ring adorns his left hand
one his sleeve, two chevrons point to the floor
a single ribbon sits atop his pocket
he bears no name tag
the image conceals his height
he is young and slender
his hair closely shorn on his skull
his expression reveals nothing
no anger, pride or humor
he stares ahead
with a Mona Lisa expression
not a smile, not quite serene
I stare at the man
I can see my father’s eyes
but all resemblance ends there
this man is a stranger
that lived with us for the final
few years of his life
as a frail old man
he would walk everyday
and get lost in the neighborhood
we’d try to help, my brothers and I
by pointing him in the right direction
when he went astray
but he got angry at us on our bikes
the young man in the photo is a stranger
like the old man who lived with us
like my father
the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, they say
I hope that someday
when someone holds a tattered
yellowed picture of me
they will see a familiar
a family member
a relative
and someone will share a story
or an anecdote, or a smile
and I will be something more
than
a
stranger
Sunday, July 8, 2007
New Song - Epic Journey
Saturday, July 7, 2007
20 year gap
of friends, class and spirit
a few brief hours to catch up and fill in the blanks
- a 20 year gap -
to reminisce the memories of youth
of dances and football games
parties and police
breakups and breakdowns
fights and friends lost
We rediscover those we knew
but forgot
- the years have taken their toll on memory-
and reacquaint with those we didn't know well
but remembered
and those we could never forget
There was posturing and bragging
titles earned and business cards received
miles gained and countries visited
but mostly it was about
memories shared
about the times
the good times, usually
before
graying hair and expanding waists
children and responsibility
jobs won and lost
and the gap.
Some people never changed
at least in appearance
others I had trouble recognizing
People didn't recognize me
-my appearance changed, a little-
but several people stated I haven't changed
Why would I?
The hours were measured in drinks consumed
and communal recollections
and hugs, lots of hugs
but mostly
smiles
everyone smiled
and disclosed information
the answers to the blanks
- at least some of the blanks -
to this 20 year gap.
Spouses were introduced
and were lost in conversations
of events that predated them
Troopers, they stood by our sides
and sometimes sat by themselves
just like we will
when it's their turn
to fill in the blanks
I enjoyed myself
and was glad to see familiar faces
from my formative years
I was disappointed that there were
faces missing
faces important, at one time, to me
and a memory now
It felt good to reconnect with friends I knew
since grade school - there were a lot of us there
longtime friendships that may have waned slightly
throughout the years
but always a common bond
even if we're uncommon now
I still have blanks in need of filling
but the need isn't great
There is a gap that separates the me in the now
from the me back then
I'm still the same me
despite my appearance
and they are still themselves
from what I saw, briefly
We all pushed on
back to where we now reside
and work
and play
Email addresses and phone numbers exchanged
the communication will taper off
as it does
long distance relationships rarely work
but a few will
and those friendships will flourish
because some things never die
and because we've known each other
for so very long
I'm home now
where I feel I belong
back from where
I used to belong
a trip of 1500 miles
to fill in
a
20 year gap