Saturday, January 16, 2010

More Old Stuff


Are you so totally obtuse
that you cannot recognize
                          my muse
The wrenching of the clouds
          produce only blaring horns
          and clashing cymbals
          a cacophony
          a call of anguish
          a sigh of regret
The rains whisper on
                        despairing ground
               and all of the sorrows
                        cannot be found
A yellow daffodil
Streams with rivulets of mud
               and sings its requiem
               in silence
      to its only hope
                       its dream
                       its sorrow
shedding brown tears
As it sinks below the slime

It dies
And yet to die
The obsidian wall of oblivion
the comfort of the womb
The peace - perhaps
              the joy of reunion.



Somewhere along deserted days
I lost my way
cast adrift
the frayed ends of the rope
hobbled beneath the murky sea
Lost on the endless tide
of hope and pain
Dreams and emptiness
The line of the horizon
An unbroken thread
of despair
And all the salt of the sea
speaks to me
of endless tears
streaming down
into the bottomless gulfs
Eternal depth on depth
So far beneath the rotting boards
of the raft so small
so frail



I long to kiss the hollows
                      of your bones
And dance with you
          in the morning
on the rolling tides
of sun waves

I long to swim in your
                       sudden smiles
And float on the
                         dreams in your
eyes flashing

I long to hold you in
                           the pit of my chest
And feel your warm
Cool the ache in my heart

I long to touch you
                                  in all your fragile places
And drink deeply
                 from your cup
of flowing wine.

I long to hear your
            voice song
Speak to me in
                  velvet down   
and your laughter
like bird wings

Together we . . . kick
away the sands
along the pathways
to the deadly seas
and dodge
the serpent's thrust
against our alliance. . .

I long to hold you
in ambered embraces
flying through spaces
in a golden stone, perpetual
with pearls flashing deep.


Imagine this - I don't even remember who I was so in love with as to write such a poem. I'm sure I was broken hearted.  Life was so strewn with such hazards for me. Let's see, 1993 - college - Oh - I remember. . . Oh my . . . well - that was a bit steamy!

Here is a nice album I am listening to:



I run naked
through flying branches
leaves flap wetly
against bared breast
I run with no thoughts
              of tomorrow
              no gleanings
              of time past
I run barefoot
through forests of tempra
Deep green drips
down my rebellious spine
I run with song spinning
                out of layers
I run lonely
Through resonating valleys
winds blow through me
denying my essence
I run with raining eyes
                 on the pathway
                 of me
                 I leave no trace.



You __________________
you are raiding my heart
and daily
you shoot me dead
with the darts in your hands.
The rubber earth
beneath your feet
Propels you
beyond my reach ----
What are you?
That you can rip
so much of me
away in one look.
If you look
do you see?
What am I to you
that you take my offerings
and disappear
into a gray mist
so cavalier______

I cannot penetrate to you.
you are the shadow
of my song
the mystery of my days
I paint you in the mornings
and when the sun goes
you are gone.
A connundrum
A wonder
Why do I love you? You______________
 a mere shell
around an essence
of my need.
like the dew
on an emerald sea
you float away from me. . .

like the beating of a wing
in an empty empty sky . . .
a tear falls
and floods a universe
to understanding
beyond a realm of hope
within a dream
and you
where are



You surprised me today
You came and spoke to me
Thanking me for some
                little note
                I had left
                on your desk
My mind was on Spanish
And you called my name
I remember you
But, ethereal you
you are like a dream.
I dared to look
at your face
But it fades now
your smile
like the Cheshire Cat.
I try to call it back . . .
Your eyes flash dark
And bring a smile
              to my memories. . .
I love you
How can I not?
When you
Spoke to me today
You sat
and listened to my noise
You were there
Your face before mine
I could have reached
                                  touched you . . .
Why didn't I?

That day comes back so vividly to me. I had forgotten that love. How time slides things away from us . . . and rightly so . . . that was a painful time . . . because love hurts!   I have to confess that I am not putting in this blog most of those love poems.  I think the brain is a little damaged, as if from too much wine, when one is in love. Just one more about my lover__________

July 1993

Days have flowed
like blood
or clear spring water
singing as it rises
over mountain's ribs
And your face
Has been washed
by times rough cloth. . .

your edges have been
through the grinding
of passing crystals.
Although not invisible
to me
you have blurred.
The sound of your voice
is stilled.
I cannot bear the
of your drifting
so far
from me.
How can I get you back?


Well, I remember that lover . . . passionate, but not long lasting . . . like the dew in the hot summer sun . . . quickly melting away . . . and leaving no trace.

This album is so relaxing and comforting. Really very good, another one of my old favorites at the bottom of the stack. I'm pulling them out for a re-listen.


July 17, 1993

Don't take away my voice
O subtle day.
You leap at me from
                    behind kind clouds;
The kind that stay and stay.

Don't take away my song
O slippery sun.
And tear the breath
                    from my troubled veins
On the road where I am from.

Don't take away my tears
O fading star.
You reflect your face
                     on the mirror of my eyes
When I long to be where you are.

Don't wash away my sweat
O falling rain
You kiss against my cheeks
                      with gentle patting paws
Then rip away the furrows of
                                       my pain.

Don't take away my love
O beautiful soul
You touch the central pulse of me
                      with the breezes of your breath
And I melt into your mold.


7 - 15 - 93

They tell me
I'm doing O.K. . . . .
That's what they tell me
But I find
Deep in the canyons
of my mind
A flowering bush
A sparkling, flinging
                                   stars into the darkness
My creation
sending light
Where no light was
sending might
into the night
No need to run
I'm doing O.K. . . . . .
But the sparks
get in the way

And everywhere I go
I let them show.

_________i hate tests

your test was hard
I needed the capacious
memory of a capricious

of course I do not have.
Names escape me . . . . . they are
Ants running, fleeing
the flood
bearing away
the important stuff
the little white sacks
of gene material
the memories
of the tribe
The heart and soul
of the community
slips away
leaving empty
within which
there is small hope . . . 
and a small soul
her empty skull in her hands


July 1993

It has been so long
Since the clouds
and danced across
             the mountains
I haven't heard 
             the mountains
      the dance of the comet
And the moon sighs
when she sees the gray.
She longs to see
her reflection
in my eyes.
She longs to find me
and hold me
once more in her arms.
It has been so long
Since the clouds
danced to the song
the mountains sing
about a comet
long ago
Who fell to earth
and couldn't rise
She sank in agony
her silver scattering
into the broken brooks
And all the clouds convene
to keep her there
Deep in the
Mountain's valley
where the mountain's
wash her gently.
But she cries
for the moon sighs
when she sees the gray.
Her longing for me
grows stronger
every day
as I long
for love.

And the mountain sings
to her valley
where the comet
and her scattered silver.


Well, I think I was on hash with that one. Pretty bad but I like the story so it goes here and maybe will improve, like wine, with age or . . . into vinegar.

 And - well since you asked so nicely - one or two more love poems - will it never stop? Oh - those were the days!

July 1993

Your eyes are the sun spots
which change the direction
of my storms
And I blow in the dark
a gentle breeze
between your breasts
A sigh
A gentle smile . . .
from you
And I robe you
In atmospheres of blue black
And I scatter the stars
between your thighs . . .
I touch your heart
And you give me
an eternity . . .



I saw you today
From far away
So I turned away
But the sight of you
Burned into my retina
and you stayed
one inch tall
forever in the green
walking up the hill
with that serious look
of yours . . .

But vulnerable
like best crystal.
And I longed for you
All over again
as if I could
own you
as if I could
to have
even one tiny
of you.


Embarrassingly enough there are stacks of this stuff.  It seems that I couldn't shut up. To bad so many of them are so graphic - I simply cannot put them in a public place - for innocent eyes to wander over.

There once was a time
When I believed
All my dreams would
                        come true.
When was that time?
And why has it drifted
I know now that
Nothing I treasure
                        is here to stay.
I see the mold
I see the rust
I see my dreams
          diminished by dust
Though not hopelessly
         for I still dream
Childhood long gone
Fresh visions diminished
A harsh light shines
On life's last mysteries
And a cry swirls in
           the fusion's storm
A cry for what the future
          carries. . .
In the end it is all
                        the same
                        the same
Doomed to repeat
The same mistakes
And we wonder
Why we cannot hear
               cannot see
And the dreams
And become . . .
               just dreams.


And that is all for tonight! 

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