Tag Archives: poems

Which Poem, This Poem?

I look around at all these people and surely they notice me. Surely I am not invisible. Surely too they have their thoughts and feelings and opinions of me, but I… I move unabated, unfettered, and unmolested through the streets and forests as if I’d been noticed by no one. Surrounded by people and not alone, but… I’m not sure. There always seems to be a but, whether it’s a joke or an “I love you”. I take solace in myself, in my writing. Still I yearn for more. How could I help but to want all that I have seen in my dreams? So vivid and so real yet so far away and I remain inhibited by Byzantine bureaucracy and the constraints of having not been born into a trust fund. Easier said than done, I suppose. Let’s get a drum roll going because I have for you something that I hope will make you think. A daily exercise of mind that may help keep you from taking a certain grippy sock vacation. Without further ado:

See Bird

Yes, I just ate

Something to so sate

That hunger, that desire

Something new I hope to sire

There’s a fire

Burning

Hope to never tire

The pages again, turning

Something new I’ve been learning

Where are those wild things

The ones I thought I’d find

I read the book and saw the movie

Feel as though I’ve been out-swined

To lie to a boy

Different than a lie to a man

The man will know, the man will change

The boy?

It is all he knows

And so it comes to pass

These lies are all he sows

How deafening are the calls of crows

Vociferous Cawing

Hear their gnawing

Bones creak and crack

Like so many planks of an old sea-worn carrack

Do you answer the call of the one who knows?

All those shiny pearls now burned to black.

Let’s Do It, Let’s Fall In Love

Consider it, my friends. To be in Paris in the 1920s, to escape and find that magic! To take it and bring it back to the present to find yourself and everything you’ve ever dreamed of. Take that magic and that majesty you found in the past and apply it to the world at large. Oh, to be in a wonderful world of wizards and sorcerers, casting their magics on pages and canvases and the keys of pianos. What a wonderful world it will be, filled with art and song.

Carnival Comes to Paris

There’s flying and there’s dying

Both ending on the ground

Hearing that one final sound

Make refuge there, in burial mound

A man in a three-piece suit

Playing the piano

Can’t help but fall in love

Fly away, little dove

All affairs fair at the fair, long as you can pay the fare

Car broke down

Grab the spare

It’s a long way back to town

One day soon we’ll be back home

One day soon I’ll read that tome

Evil little lexicon

Stare me down, thereupon

Sitting on the shelf

Bore your holes

Whack those moles

Cross the bridge and pay the tolls

Find yourself and find our souls

Mirror, Mirror, On The Wall?

Who is the fairest of them all? The strongest? The smartest? The goodest? I ask again, O’ Mirror, reflection of all, Who is the rarest of them all? A man apart from the rest. A man and not a boy. Can you see the writing on the wall? Read the lines, not between. See the stars in your eyes and tell me what they’re made of.

Man in the Mirror

A pockmarked face

Marred by decision and derision

Marked by contention

I don’t look like such a young man anymore

Staring straight into those eyes

Meet a man who tells no lies

Not to me

Not to you

He wears his wares upon his chin

As tears they wear upon his cheeks

And smile lines race against his pursing lips

A face so seldom understood,

Worn by pages made from wood

In the mirror, seeing leather

What is a man, but a bird without feather?

I want to fly

So high in the sky

And with my little eye

A thousand things I’d spy

Not the least of which is you, me

The one I cannot help but be

That one inside the mirror I see

Never Alone In The Woods

I often hike alone. I find peace there in the trees and with the animals. I like to think they find peace in my presence as well. The same peace I feel in your presence, of course. It is nice to hike with people you love, animals you love. You will always find something new on the trail. Even the same trail isn’t the same twice. You just have to look. Same goes for people. If you’re making generalizations, if you’re not really looking, not really seeing… You’ll never reach those depths of understanding that may one day lead you to Elysium, home of the heroes and the Gods. Or perhaps just to somewhere you might be happy.

Peaks and Valleys

Tending to a violet color

Regal purple, never duller

Shine so bright, as a star

Violescent, never far

How many miles can you go?

And still be here beside me, no?

My heart’s cascade, a thousand peaks

Trek through my rivers and all my creeks

Not so hard, to survive

A bountiful harvest, my heart provides

Two hearts, one locus

You have always been my focus

Sit inside this heart of mine

Think not hard, but cross the line

Take this linking as a sign

Always back, and always mine

Tragedy In Antiquity

Good morning, all. I have been thinking much on history’s many people. I find it easy to remember the events, the macro, so to speak, but it can often be difficult to fathom that every individual person that has ever lived was in fact a person, that they loved and hated and joked just the same as now. I try to think of them. Even if I can’t remember their names, I try to remember them. To not let their stories be forgotten if I can help it. They existed. Try not to forget.

Aegyptus

An ancient Pharaoh rests in her tomb

Dreaming dreams of her Kingdom’s doom

Before her death it did so loom

But come to pass it did so soon

Great commandments of a God

Covered now in sand and sod

Her people, their Pharaoh, did they laud

But now you’ll find but just facade

Dead and gone

Ghost and a pawn

She never did so see the dawn

As coffers drained and blood was drawn

O Cleopatra, last of the Pharaohs,

Bite of an asp, or so many arrows?

On a path that suddenly narrows

Sleeping now in holes and barrows.

Your Love, Marcus Antonius, Mark Antony,

Does he so too rest in sand and sod?