Tag Archives: poetry

Into The Jungle

I dream of having adventures in faraway lands with faraway circumstances. Perhaps I’ll leave, taking only my stetson and the clothes on my back. I’ll go and leave and finally be me. I suppose we’ll see. Enjoy the poem, friends.

Friend by the Falls

I see there in the distance

a waterfall

and the road that winds,

leading up to there

through the trees.

I can hear the crashing.

The water hitting the rocks.

Past the point of no return.

Hot sun above

and sounds of the jungle.

How can you feel?

How do you feel?

I only feel that pounding

of that water on the rocks,

resonating through my core

It’s sundown now.

A jaguar stands at attention.

I ask the cat a question as it watches:

“Hello, friend. Who is that reflected in your eyes?”

“I don’t recognize him,”

I whisper so sweetly so that only the ears of a predator might hear me.

The jaguar stares on,

looking as if to speak,

but it turns away.

There will be no answers today, friend;

you must find you yourself now.

“Goodbye, friend,” my words saunter off into the darkness.

To Feel As If Floating

In a cloud of long-forgotten stardust, I find myself. Far and further away from anything and everything I once knew. Floating there, no air within my lungs, no blood within my veins. I am but a specter, a ghost outside the machine. My ship blown apart long ago in an ancient battle far away and removed from my current, frozen circumstances. There I stay, drifting through those clouds of stardust, the only twinkle in my eye the gamma rays and photon blasts that pass me by every thousand years, a length of time that to me is but a blink. My glassy eyes no longer hold life behind them, but still yet reflect those beautiful, iridescent nebulas and effervescent starbursts I watched so long ago with the wonder only a child could. Only now it has come to pass that I am no longer a child, but that husk of man adrift in a sea of nothing. I am finally at peace among the stars.

Derelict

It always meant so much to me

You did, I mean

We found our peace among the stars

Our refuge from this world’s many wars

I saw and see inside your eyes a twinkle

Reflection and refraction of those great gaseous bodies

Their existence too is all aflame

A reflection too of that which beats inside my chest 

This heart, that heart

You’ve really made the grade

Only now the signal’s dead

We won’t get home to go to bed

These stars with which we’ve sought solace

Caught there in the space between

Floating, derelict

Waiting for relief that never comes

Drive Safe, OK?

Afternoon, y’all. Much again to do today. Never a break, it would seem. It’ll all be done soon enough and then! We shall have our time. A good time. Better every day. I hope you enjoy the poem today!

Auditing

Do the budget

Don’t you fudge it

Find yourself the time

Don’t you lose a dime

Put it together

Don’t sweat the weather

Six more weeks of winter

Turns the deck to splinter

I’m writing a poem

It’s coming together

Just a couple birds of a feather

Someday you’ll know them

How to feel?

Akin to teal

Or maybe to steel?

Find your mind among the real

In A Haze

Woken up again, I find myself responding to the light and to the chirping. To the stimuli, as I should. To all things, as I have before. Perhaps I must change again? I am too much the same as I’ve been, floundering in that sea of doubt and sameness that continues to rise and rise until it rests just below my chin. It stops there and waits, knowing I know of it and what I feel about it. Knowing the anxiety it causes me. Cognizant of the fact that its sentience and salience terrify me like nothing has terrified me before because, simply, the idea of stagnation is equitable in my mind to an endless torture. I find that hell would be preferable to purgatory in that I at least derive some comfort from knowing my torture, rather than not knowing my fate. Please enjoy the poem, friends.

Waking Up

Sick again

I keep doing this

I don’t know

It hurts again

I keep a head

Always in cycles

Moving in circles

Wondering why I did that same thing again

Why i laid my head to rest on that same lap again

To find my roots amongst the trees

And my legs against the seas

Tired of finding that i have weak knees

I’ll don my tricorne

And I’ll set off

Or I’ll set sail

And go there far beyond the pale

As friends and foes sit and wait,

I find myself not resigned to this fate

For it’s with destiny that i have a date

An Old Ritual

Last night I partook in an old ritual. One my ancestors may have recognized. As an observer I felt more than I can explain, oddly enough. There were not many parts, but there was much fun to be had and many friends to be made. This I think I understand. The profound effects of a ritual always lie in the social aspect for me, the actual God or Gods taking the backseat in my mind. I think I’d quite like to do it again.

Regent of Hearts

I’ve met some great boundless one so far

Who told me how the world’s not so hard

Who filled my heart with no canard

That one who tells stories much like a bard

A sing-songy voice

But not by their choice

I of course must rejoice

They think of me more than a shithouse Joyce

Of gumdrops and lilypads

A fantasy land

Of good moms and good dads

There in that castle just by the sand

Idyllic machination

Psychadelic fascination

A world so full of recreation

And creation

A world so fully embraced the Mad