Tag Archives: poem
Taking aim
I aimed for the mountain top, but found only sky.
I aimed for the clouds, but found only air.
I aimed for the moon, but found only coldness.
I aimed for the stars, but found only emptiness.
Head bowed in sadness, I finally looked around,
To find a universe of wonder lying at my feet.
Robin
Laughter has died,
But for a moment,
As the jester reposes
Into tranquility.
Frenzied fantasies
Silenced of a sudden,
Cut off from a world
Unable to keep up.
Rest frightened clown;
Be still and be whole;
Clap hands with peace,
As we clap hands in mourning.
The hurricane is stilled;
Black clouds soften;
Yet we will laugh anew
Bearing scars of ache.
Robin Williams meant the world to me. A supernova of mirth and tears, bravery and anger…and always, just a man.
Today, the man found his end, as so many of his ilk have.
But his legacy will echo for eternity to brighten our nights and nourish our souls.
Sleep, noble prince, assured that we are better for knowing you.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qfunRtzlEjA
Emptiness
Choreographed exhalations
Oscillating laryngeal folds
Traversing wavelets of air
Vibrating tympanum
Impulsive electricity
So much effort
For words of so little import.
(Image is property of owners and is used here without permission, not a sound decision.)
Spring’s release
Greys and browns slowly release
Their deathly grip on our souls.
Minor moments of colour—
Red, orange, green, yellow—
Poke out weary heads,
Finding welcome, seizing hope.
Splashes grow to puddles,
Puddles into deluge,
And the world is bathed
In chromatic bliss.
Spring lines have arrived.
Can the sales be far behind?
(Image is property of owner and is used here without permission, but appreciation.)
Sun
Torpid lizard
Sun-bathed rock
Frost clinging to shadows
Life in limbo
Chains unleashed
Motion where silence reigned
Clawed toe flicks
Tongue pierces sky
Lazy eye greets a desert dawn
(Image is property of owner and is used here without permission because it’s too early)
I Hear You
“I hear you,” she screams,
Her voice echoing in the silence
Of a disquieted mind.
Fists pound temples
As temptation reigns
In paper-wrapped glass.
The sins of a thousand years
Await release, gnawing
At the bars built
To keep the world out
And the furies within.
Breath rasps, the belly of the snake
Drawing sinewy strength
From the still-warm sands
Of memory and desire.
Head sags, body slumps,
Blood slows, anguish grows.
Write, Sisyphus, write.
(Images are property of owners, and are used here without permission…I heard you.)
Ballerina dreams
(Inspired by and written to Tracey)
Real
Am I as lifeless as the image
That dances before me,
Within its two-dimensional bonds
Of height and width?
Or does it ask the same questions
As it stares through this portal of glass,
Breathing and thinking in a world
That also offers depth and duration?
Which of us is the corpus
And which the reflection?
Both? Neither?
When we part company,
Who moves first?
And if I smash the glass,
Which of us ceases to exist,
Except in the multitude of shards
That fall to Earth?
(Images are property of owners and upon reflection, are used here without permission.)
Hoar-ror Show
The silence screamed
As unyielding steel
Violated the ground.
Frozen corpses flung
To cadaverous skies,
Plummeting anew
O’er sacrificed brethren;
Unwelcomed freefall
Not insult enough
To be ignored
By violent injury.
Territory reclaimed,
Only to await
New fodder,
New victims.
Winter, it seems,
Is getting to me.
(Image is property of owner and is used here without permission…the horror…the horror.)
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