House . . .

Halcyon Hall *

I am lost in your hallways . ..
skylights ripped like scars
through your skin . .
you have no joy in me
as I wander through the night
leaving temporary imprints,
blood on your walls
I am but a memory that clings
like refuse . . . waiting to be blown
into the ever waiting skies . ..
a dream, a bit of wayward dust . . .
a glint of glass reflecting hope,
for esteem . . . I stand and yet
I crumble . .  slowly . .. minutely
momentarily away . . .
melting like seaweed
on endless shores . . .  I am lost
in your beauty . . .
I am lost to you .. .. .
I hear a hundred thousand voices
resounding like planets
across the plane of time . . .
the foot falls . . resonate. . .
sliding warily
through memories . . . woven in delicate
arches . ..  backs bent, straining against the pressure
that releases life . . .
a spare coin rolls downhill
like thunder's deep echo
the voice of a god speaking
hidden behind the next corner . .  
beware of splinters
spearing deftly through the murmuring heart . . .
the fall of the house
frees the soul as pigeons
wing skyward
the timbers crash to the soil
and the stench of mildew
revives the community
to bury the body . .

********************************************


Rune X -Natural Northern Darkness-,  "Paganstorm II (Album2013)"

Dark pagan . ..  black metal . . . joyless and droning . . yet mesmerizing and meaningful . . . responding and resonating with the listening soul . . .

Royalty-free music for professional licensing

Red Dragonfly

 To lighten and brighten the mood . ..  This dragonfly was hanging on to the tallest branch in my yard, after taking several flights with a friend . ..  it would sit here sunning itself, the colors glinting from the wings were like fire, golden red fire with occasional glimpses of the rainbow . . . its little head would turn and look at me as I took several pictures . ..  but it posed magnificently:

 

**************************************************************

* This picture of Halcyon Hall was NOT taken by me but was found on the Internet without notes regarding to the photographer. There are many pictures of this hall ( also known as Bennett College ) located in Millbrook NY . . . the latest pictures are of the collapsing in the middle section . . . it inspired me, this house, with its fancy face yet lost expression . . . its age and deterioration. . . its history . . .

http://www.preservationnation.org/magazine/2011/story-of-the-day/the-rise-and-fall-of-halcyon.html

http://www.opacity.us/site11_bennett_school_for_girls.htm

http://www.flickr.com/photos/carla-kurt/8620576750/

Stuff . . .

 A mysterious walk through time . . . 
electrical storms, blue fire . . . 
a bit of ambient music . . . 
whirling on the edges of yesterday's memories .  .  . 
like flashes of gems weaving a pattern, 
within a fractal, 
within a universe . . . 
and beyond . . . 
like flashes of stars repeating and dreaming . . . 
diving beyond the horizon . . . 
the longing to follow . . . 
to see, to reach, to touch . . . 
to become one with time . . . 
to flow forward while looking back . .
it sounds like this . . . 
a river of water is running over multi-colored pebbles . . . 
slowly dragging them 
from the mountains to the sea . . . 
a thousand years . .  a million . . . 
their flesh becomes sand, 
the dust that coats the heart of the world . . .  
let time . . . be . . . 

  Time Travellers by Mr.Ju

More mr.ju music to be found here:
http://www.jamendo.com/en/artist/339613/mr.ju

A Way-Back me . ..  time has passed . .

Letting Go . . .
         accepting change . . .
leaves a sense of peace . . 
within the rebellious soul . .
The heart lifts up
from an
unbearable burden of heaviness
and leaps into
the drifting breezes

like a forgotten balloon,
after the party,
which follows the melody
until there is nothing
but silence
and an empty heart bursts . . .

Nothing is wasted . . .
my love for you
      is returned
randomly . . .
on the wings of a flickering butterfly -
or in the arms of the rainbow . . .
or the kiss of the breeze as it carries . . .
the desperate cry of the lone wolf . . .
                        and the ashes of
death itself
           grows into
a light that
          flies across a dark sky
so full of embers . ..
a billowing canopy
so pregnant with fire
             and song
that it's as if the loss
of one little star
will leave no hole . . .
in the universe .. .
for the empty space is filled . . .
with darkness itself . . .

*******************************************************

Barbara Wolfsong : Walk With Me

Video by Barbara Wolfsong
Photography by Barbara Wolfsong
Vers, France
Music by Van Syla, "In Your Eyes"
from the album, "Death of a Star"
http://www.jamendo.com/en/track/633586/in-your-eyes

When We Had Wings . . .

     Once
     so long ago . . .

     a spiraling galaxy
     held our hearts . ..

     and we flew from end to end
     with wings
     that cried . .

     in grief, of sorrow
     in joy, of love . .

     we held on our faces,
     masks of serenity

     our praying hands
     cupped nectar from
     invisible winds . . .

     and we dreamed
     of a golden star . . .
     shining on a silver sea . . .

     and we reflected
     from heart to heart
     a soul of a planet . . .
     a small blue flower . . .

     a babe cried there
     on a lonely shore . . .
     where the seabirds gathered
     and the salt air stings
     in contemplation . . .

     and the dreams flow
     like mists and dew,
     rivulets of
     what will be . . .

     tomorrow and tomorrow . .
     deeper into the darkness
     we flew . . .
     our wings of crystal . . .
     shattered and fell away
     and we forgot . . .
         that once we were angels . . .

EDIT (August 28, 2012):

I was so moved by a Jamendo friend, Stefano Mocini, who was inspired by this poem and wrote a beautiful musical piece to go along with it . . .

Royalty-free music for professional licensing

Rune made a beautiful video to showcase Stefano's music . . .

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XKoP-QXgRUk&feature=em-subs_digest

Rune and Evgeny

Wolfpack under the full moon (Music by Evgeny Emelyanov)
Video by xxxXxRUNExXxxx - http://www.youtube.com/user/xxxXxRUNExXxxx/videos

With lovely black and white pictures, evoking thoughts and emotions regarding wolves . . . Rune put together a gorgeous video showcase for Evgeny Emelyanov's composition,  "Father and Daughter (feat. Viktor Vorokhov)" . . . a dramatic piece, from the album reviewed below, it is studded with strings and a tender piano . . . Romantic and thoughtful, the entire ensemble is emotional and delightful . . .




************************************************************
"Impulse" by Evgeny Emelyanov
on Bandcamp and also on Jamendo . . .

"This is quite an eclectic little album . .. interesting music from beginning to end . . . Most are definitely suited to soundtrack requirements . . . music to set a mood or mental image . . . dramatic or refined . . . relaxing or enlightening . . . and all very good . . . as just a listen on a rainy afternoon . .. before the sun descends . . . yet the heart needs room to breath . . . and the music sets the stage . . . "
- My review from Jamendo.com



******************************************************************

A Morning Walk

Detail in yard near park.

Pictures taken at Crystal Springs Rhododendron Garden, Portland, Oregon
Music: Dancing with the Swans by: Sagnik and Krishnaroop
from the album "Ethereal Lounge" http://www.jamendo.com/en/album/92226

What is yesterday
                 but a fleck of dust,
                           blown in the wind,
          and soon forgotten
after leaving a footprint
                 in the shifting sands . .

What is today . . .
             as I sit by a lake
filled with spring waters. . .
               I watch
the curious ducks float by,
                  sparks dribbling
from their bills
             I hear
                    the cargo train
passing through on the other side
            of the green . . .
his voice is humming
                     with the day's burdens . .

The water tumbling,
              down the cliff,
                      leaps and shines with
white glee,
          sparkling with expectations. . .
                     for it is new
                             with birth
               and not yet settled
and still 
                like the pond below . . .
                           scummy and wrinkled
         with a life lived
                      and a collection of detritus. . .
old feathers . . . dead leaves . . . 
          the unknown, and filled with
                     algae and green slime
     so that
           the geese are happy
                 to feast there . . .

The old tree stump
                 in the middle of the lake
        is a harvest of green
                      and reflections,
                                  perhaps ancient memories . . .
                   and rooted deeply
             in the sands
             of experience
still making
             an offering to life
                     on the alter of death . .

There is abundant water on this earth

                   a huge burst
                        of elixir
                             the manna of life
                                              an         expectation
              of beauty, evident
                             to the furthest reaches
of space. . .
a glowing blue planet
of promise
and love . . .
 




***********************************************************

Black and White_HD_WMV_

Music by Van Syla "Memories"

Video by jc3804700

************************

Memories by Van Syla (Jamendo)

pictures from my memories . . .
a gallery of black and white photos
of you and me
fading into the far distance
where on the mountaintop
I see a white bird flying
against a darkened sky,

imprisoned behind 

a scribbling of tree branches

reaching up
and higher yet . . . a
star tumbles down and
settles in my heart

healing an old wound there. . .
faded memories
passing through my dreams
like an old train steaming
down  that disappearing track

humming and calling me back

to where
I hear a melody we sang
as we danced together on that
scarred wooden floor
echoing our footsteps
as if our heartbeats were one . . .
I see you when there were yesterdays
old sepia photos
like fallen leaves
drifting by on the streams of time . . .

###

Passing Passion.mov

                                          

            This is my first attempt at a video . . .

I used Van Syla's "Passing Passion" song
which she made for me and published in "Wolfsong's"
I used my poem, "The Heart of the Star"
and my pictures (on earth)
and pictures from the Hubble site . . .

credits:

Video by Barbara Wolfsong

Music by Van Syla:  Passing Passion
http://www.jamendo.com/en/artist/Van_Syla
http://www.jamendo.com/en/track/612744
Stars by Hubble:
http://hubblesite.org/gallery/

Poetry & Earth Photos by Orangeupurple?:
The Heart of the Star  - here on this blog:
http://orangeupurple.blogspot.com/2010/04/heart-of-star.html

Be Kind to Spiders!

Amber . . . Late August 2010

This is an excerpt from my journal, which I was keeping in late August . . . in regards to my experiences as I walked to and from work. One of my interests was dealing with the beautiful garden spiders and their gorgeous webs. I took many pictures . . . including a video, which although not very good I will upload here.

August 25, 2010
I adopted a spider!
I acquired her yesterday when I took several pictures of her. She’s a busy beauty . . .  and today I noticed her making a new web, so I decided that this time I would make a video of her creating her wonderful art. She never minded me taking pictures so I though surely she wouldn’t mind me filming her. She was really great under the eye of the camera and was dancing away on her web, but she was a little further away than she was yesterday so I tried to get a closer shot, and unfortunately I fell into the bushes and my camera went right into her web and broke it. She stopped moving and just sat there, sadly, contemplating the damage of all that hard work .. . .. I slipped quietly away. I’ll check up on her a little later this afternoon when I am walking home . . . oh god that walk home . . .

LATER
Well, even though I had two bottles of water, I thought I would die before I got home . . . the heat is too much for me .. . my house is nice and cool though . . . at least our temps are going down starting tomorrow.

I checked on my pet spider. She was fine. She had finished her web and was sitting, pleasantly hunched over an insect carcass. I thought she was so lovely and the way she glows in the sunlight makes me want to call her Amber, so I will. Plus, I like to think of all that genetic material that makes us tick and makes Amber tick too, like all her grandmother’s through generations and generations and the wisdom of the mothers are all passed on down to her . . . lovely.

When I was a kid, my mother, who was terrified of spiders, would yell at me to kill the ones that made their appearance in front of her sharp blue eyes. “Kill that spider, Barbie, kill it . . .” (God how I hated being called Barbie .. . grrrr) . . .. and she would stand there and scream until I got a piece of tissue and smashed that poor thing and checked, I HAD to look at the squashed carcass and make sure it wasn’t moving and then throw it in the trash can outside.   

Usually they were hairy and black and nearly as big as my little child’s hands . . . at least those are the ones in my memory banks . . . and they ran fast too. They jittered when they ran, like some kind of space alien or robotic things.  Terrifying . . .

This went on for years and eventually I started having dreams about all those dead spider’s relatives coming to get me. Millions of spiders crawling across the floor and ceiling and walls .. . coming to get me and . .. . that’s when I would wake up. I finally had to make a conscious effort to stop being scared of spiders . .. They are not out to get me . . . I think . . .

Well, that was the beginning of my spider obsession . . . I did have a tarantula once for a few years .. .  I originally got her so I could try to encourage my students not to be too terrified of spiders. But, I had to bring her home from the school because my students were too terrified of her. I fed her crickets . .  now they had more fun in life then she did . . . they sang all night and ate each other all day . . . nice crowd . . . it reminds me of High School . . ..

Garden Spider

This spider is one of my three lovely ladies . . . she is pretty huge and one of the summer survivors. She is getting fat so she can lay her eggs before winter . .. . which she will not survive.  I have learned how to duck below her web so as not to break it . . . There are two other ladies with their traps set up in my yard . . . I walk carefully! . . .  Notice that this one has an aphid in her web . . . remember that spiders help keep down the annoying insects which choose to chew on your roses . . . and remember that spiders don't bite you if you don't poke at them. Although this one could take down a small boy if she chose . . . she was always polite to me . . .               
- October 8, 2010

Garden Spider

This is a picture of the biggest of my three girls . . . she has some sort of prey in her mouth . . . 

 I believe that this one is a male garden spider . . . I may be wrong. . . but I do know that the males are much smaller than the females and not as interested in hunting as they are in mating.

This is my video that I took in August of Amber as she spun her web. She was so beautiful dancing across the air on her silk and she glowed so beautifully in the sunlight . . . 
I am sorry about the traffic sounds . . . so turn off the sound if you don't care to hear . . . there was nothing very interesting when it came to sounds anyway.



UPDATE: All my spiders have disappeared by now. We had heavy rains which washed away the webs and perhaps it was time for them to go. After the video incident, I saw Amber for a couple of days and then she disappeared. These particular spiders usually change their web site daily until they get so big, nobody dares to knock them down . . .

May 2010 - We begin anew . . . life!

Just Some Stuff in No Particular Order!

How I love this little song - it has a heart fulfilling uniqueness and beauty that rises above so many similar tunes and adds glory to your vision and lifts up your emotions adding joy.



Wow - I really enjoyed this little album. I especially enjoyed the singing in the second track - it sounded so earthy and anciently mystical. I had to put down whatever I was doing to listen carefully - the sounds brought me into the ancient tropical forests - some discussion going on here - interesting topics and beautiful ambient music - and a nice long jog through the arboreal wilderness, scenting the thousands of stories of the residents therein, ears perked up to catch the drift of sounds and heart ready to plunge into the next adventure around the next bend or over the distant river . . . . fantasy inducing music - a marvelous success with me.








A little Stykz video made by Max O.
I loved the creativity and sweet story line on this very short video.
He said he was not done yet so will post finished product later.



So this one was done by Joshua B. - The Hulk - last minute job, he was anxious to get his video in so we finished after school.
I tell the boys that if they want their stuff published they will have to forgo the violence. No swords, guns, blood or heads rolling. Sigh . . .  bless their little boy hearts . . . its very hard for them but I think they try. 

I can't get over how good this music is - quite epic in appeal and monumental; definitely an interest holder.

A poem from: October 9, 1980 - I think this actually happened, or at least my perception of the events:

We ran in the wind

And sucked

In deep breaths

The nectar

Of the maroon

Sunset.

Across

The wooded bridge

We danced

To the song

Of the Wood duck

And threw

Silver stars

Into the lake.

The trees bent down

To hear our whispers

But we shouted

To the gay hills

Instead

And ran away

Faster than the lonely cry

Of the night.

But then

We gathered

Ourselves in

And chuckled

        Softly

To ourselves. 

##

October 20, 1980

Fly away free bird

I see your wings

Flashing

In the golden sun.

Fly away free bird

I see the grey clouds

Gathering

Across the weeping sky.

Fly away free bird

I am going with you

Reaching

For the eternal stars.

Fly away free bird

I dream of it too

Flying

Freely along with you.

##

Another from 1980

I wander in the shadows

       of the night

Seeking anywhere

A ray of hope

A gleam of light

I listen for laughter

I hear only sighs

     Murmerings

In the darkness

     Sadness

In the night.

##

This poem, written in 1978, was a shock for me to run into, as it reminded me of my belief as a child that I was but the dream of a bear in hibernation. I would think about that bear daily as I washed the dishes (an excruciatingly boring chore) but it gave me time to think about this bear who was the real me, dreaming she was a girl, bored out of her mind. This belief came before my years of believing that I was a space alien child . . .  but that is another tale for another time . . .

 All my life I wonder

If my ultimate being

Is but a figment of my

imagination;

Or dreams

Of times going by;

Or songs

Sung over lutes

By mysterious beings;

Or am I but the

Stark shadows

Inside the eyes

Of some creature in hibernation?

Could it be that I am

Nothing

But spirit

With wild imaginations

Of more tangible things;

Or a fantasy of God

Who pulls the strings;

Or mere charges in some

Wild electrical storm?

Or could it be that

I exist

As me

In this time

To dream of better things?

##

Another poem from 1978

I actually like this one quite a bit as it is in one of my circular modes

with some decent flow. . .I remember I got this one from a picture, a photograph

of a brilliant sunset with a stark black silhouette against the crimson sky. . .I am actually quite surprised that I remember all that . . .

There was a garden

In my song

Covered in wild dew

And shards of cobweb

Fighting strong

Against erosion

By whispering winds.

There was a sunset

In my garden

Ladeling promises

Of new beginnings

And glorious tomorrows

To light the ways.

There was a tree

In my sunset

Starkly outlined

In black repose

Standing wary

Of any retreat.

There was a bird

In my tree

Hurrying the sun

With his song

Longing for diamonds

Under his wings.

There was a garden

In my bird

Covered in secrets

And living instinct

Wild and tame

Fighting strong

Against erosion

And progress. 

##

Knocking on doors

day after day

like the ultimate salesman

not selling but buying.

I ask the question

"Why, Why

Is it all melting away?

Where does it go?

like the snowman

on a warm winter's day

it just disappears.

Surely its there

Somewhere around

hidden by waves

of madness.

Perhaps it moved

over there

beneath the trees

or on the top of a mountain,

beneath the sea;

maybe.

But why, why?"

Where does one find it
after it is lost
Perhaps it just
changed
in appearance.
What is happiness anyway?


##


I was very depressed during this period of my life. 1978
All the rest of these poems are written between 1978 and 1980

Once

I saw myself

On the top of a hill

Leaning lightly

On a stalk of wheat

I was laughing

At the sunlight

Glowing, flowing

All around me

Laughter, joy fed my soul

As honey

Thick and sweet

I stood in the valley

and watched myself

laughing;

as I cried

in the dark.

##

There's always magic

in a circle

Like the ring on the merry-go-round

And a ring of bright smiles

A circle of children

Playing children's games

Around and around

A circle is eternal

People facing people

A ring around a finger

Arms around a neck

A song around a song

The ring of life

The seabirds circling

The earth around

And a ring of mushrooms

The elves dance around

From the circle of atoms

To the ring around the moon

To the circle of planets

All around the sun

To the circle of stars

In the ball of the universe

There's always magic

in a circle

##

The alpine blooms

Look like colored confetti

Scattered by the winds

That play

With the baby clouds

And I sit

In my special place

Watching

The frowning mountain peaks

Lording over the valleys

Of the tiny village,

Down there somewhere

At the end of the pathway

With tiny people

At work or play

Living in the umbra

Of the colossal mountains

Giants tumbled

    from the stars.

##

Mary -

sweet lady

in the dark

-alone

What happened

to the days

behind you?

- youth

was it ever

really there?

why have you

come here?

to this age.

this lonely place

in the window.

do you still

count the stars

as you used to 

so long ago

as a child

lying in the grass

on your mountaintop?

was it ever

really there?

the days

fly by

so empty now.

your time

so nearly spent.

your tide

is going out.

sweet lady

do not weep

for time gone by..

I am here

to hold your

hand

and live your youth.

now mine.

##

Softly

In the downy feathers of the birds

One finds the softness of life

As the clouds in the sky

And the foam on the sea.

The shadows clinging gently

To the old trodden earth

Wipe out the scars and the sighs

Leaving wispy leaves to glow.

In the sky slowly turning

Lonely moon and friendly stars

Softly haloed in the darkness

Gently smiling in their light.

##

I felt so differently then
In those days
So long ago.
What I wrote down then
Seems to me to be
out of the mouths of strangers.
What is the changing growth
That took me over?
What great powers
Does it play
On the minds
of those beneath it?

Who am I
That I was
A stranger to me now?

Who am I
That I will be
The person of tomorrow?


##

All is shadow,

nothing but shadow.

All that we see

are

but reflections

at the base

of our minds.

Wishing does not

change

the Truth;

But Truth

stands in back

of the crowd.

##

Big blue boulders

Stand in the movement

Of frothing green sward.

Sun glinting objects

Jitterbug in lacy gold.

Scarlet blue dreams

Gad about like poppies

Gossip in groups

As the birds

Park on peaks.

Sweet sugar tricklets

Golden as honey

Flow freely and lively

From  boulders of blue.

## 

Beyond the fire mountain
There is a promise green
and hope lies in a moment
or the rushing of a stream


Beyond the fire mountain
Love and grace have met
Before the sun can rise
The sun has got to set


##

Midnight Island

Red moon bloated

Sinks behind

   the sea waves.

Darking urchins

    scatter

Between the splintered tides.

Deepened sounds

Betray the living

Creations dying.

Flitting stars

Dancing behind

Cooling sea mists.

Fingers of God

Reach out and fling

       the sands.

Purple night

Desiring silver light. 

And the wind

Blows away a sigh.

But the palm trees

Bend down

And drink of the deep. 

##

The old men sit

on park benches

placed in order

around the scum covered fountain

of a curly head youth

gaping at them

through unknowing eyes

and from a leaden vase

he pours a crystal water

to splash and swirl

away at his feet

The old men sit

beating hearts

in unison

 gazing with gray eyes

up at the tall

buildings surrounding

the park in the city

The old men sit

watching the

early morning traffic

the busy throbbing traffic

and a city bird

hides away

singing a sad song

to awaken

the city people

the old men sit

waiting

and one begins to speak

"i was a young boy once

and the country was young

where there are tall buildings now

there were tall trees

shedding pine cones

and squirrels

in the summer there were apples

and tree houses

and wild forest pets

our neighbors lived three

miles away

and there was peace

i was a young man once

and there were wars

and men were men

and they would fight

for their beloved country

and the flag they

would raise with pride

i was married once

and my wife was young

and i loved her

and we had children

i am an old man now

my wife has passed away

my children are grown

and they are a part

of this new world

and i am not

and i hope

soon to die"

the old men sit

on the benches

and they nod

their shabby old heads

and they all

begin to talk

 about the day

 when they were young

##

Ok - one more and then I am done for the night or - ah - early morning . . . there are so many of them . . . like sawdust from my mind . . . where did they all come from . . . I haven't even begun -

Time was -

As the sea roared at our feet

We braved each oncoming wave

Time was -

When the sky poured,

New lakes were discovered

by our well worn

     rubber boots

Time was -

The sky and earth

In matching white

Created new playgrounds

    and we became snowmen

Time was -

When God sent forth

blue skies, smiling sun,

Dancing flowers

As we spilled forth

Energy, creating and destroying

Time was -

As we laughed and wept

Minutes were lived fully

Caution was not known

Time was -

And exceeded all invention

       of man

As we loved and hated

Every second 

       every day

Time was -

So full - then -

And as I sit here now

No more the child

With time,

Of love, wisedom, timeless

Time was - 

But where have I lost it?

Was it only a dream?

As a gift of eternity?

Time was

But it is gone

Each moment passing by

     faster

           and faster

Eternity passes by

     Gone

###

These next few were written in the 90's:


November 19 -


In the crystal night
The snow puddled
              on the ground
like curdled milk
Sitting on a crosstown bus
with a squint-eyed moon
                   riding on my shoulder
lights of the city
sit below the hills
         like an expectant audience
The stage is set
           beyond each window
I catch a glimpse
       of lives elsewhere
eyes floating by
     in the fog
Souls of a drama
   unfurl behind me
on the seat of the bus
A story is told
    in a smile
a gesture
###


 
we read the event
with a knowledge
burnt into our hearts
by the experience

##

I saw white birds flying high

like crystal in a purple sky

and a rainbow's dream

reaching down

to the lost horizon on the ground

The sun dripping gold

at the hills all around

The sky as black

as space

the trees

a cape of lace.

##

Wolf laughs

As she hears the song

  of her children to

A moon so big

  it threatens to topple

  off the mountain.

Chips of ice

are scattered across

   the seas of space . . .

And wolf sighs

when the song is ended.

Her children hunt in the breezes and

Small wild things

rustle in the grasses;

a pounce and all is lost

A night again so bright

Moon paints black shadows,

  doorways to

  peaceful places.

Whiffling feathers cover the air

  as owl moves to glide

  across the white spaces,

  hooking a stray

  wild thing.

Wolf watches

And the night light

reflects against

the wisdom

lodged within her ageless eyes.

##

Rays of sunlight

turn my white cat

into

a crystal wisp

white on light

he tiptoes up the beam

with high designs

and settles on rainbow

spatter

his road going nowhere

a daily art

a dream eternal

to see

but not to be. . . .

Floating in space

a feather

stretching out past the stars

whiskers singed

at the edges of the galaxy

and his eartips

twinkle.

##

I wish I had more

  to give to the children --

Mend their hearts and socks

Feed their bruised egos

  and empty bellies

Brush the hurt from their souls

  and the hair from their eyes . . .

I wish to lift them high

   til their wings are strong

  and they soar as the eagle.

I wish to toss stars into their

eyes

and love in their hearts.

Set them on the pathway

of their gifts

watch them grow 

watch them go

  their own way.

##



A very old poem of mine - and long:

If The Snow Comes Just Let It Melt

They tell me to quit wandering
That I ought to settle down.
"The day of the tramps are done,"
They say;
"Get a job
Have a home and a family --
The best way to live."
     But look - - 
I only have about sixty more
Years to live on this old earth;
When I die
I'll settle down then
In one of two places
And I'll have to spend
The rest of eternity there.
So why can't I
While I still can
Have fun -- and learn
About life
Because Life is so full.

So why not let me wander
All over the world.

I don't cause no harm.

I got a letter yesterday;
I was living in a garage
And I found it
In a heap of old junk...
Jewelry, clothing and feathers
From some old society
That had lost a battle.
It was from some man
And it was beautiful
With fragile dying words
Like - - "Sweet heart"
"Flowers of my heart"
And more to rend my peace of mind
To make me wonder --
Is it true?
Or did he just copy
It out of some old dusty book
With carved Covers
That he found in his attic?
But when I finished
The meaningless letter
As it surely must have been
Even to him
I threw it back in the pile
Of old junk.

I came upon a peach orchard once
And I picked all day.
I made twenty bucks
And some odd coin.
I lost it all
But I didn't care
For I had gained an experience
And I lost nothing
Nothing that meant anything to me.
A farmer let me sleep in his barn
In an empty stall
And I had peaches and cream
For dinner.

The Scottish moved to Rome
And the Romans moved to Scotland
I wasn't surprised
And it didn't affect me.
But I had to pretend I wasn't Communist
Even though I wasn't.
I agreed I didn't set bombs
And I don't move
From Scotland to Rome
From Rome to Scotland.
What difference does it make to me?
I don't know whats going on.


Someday I'll run away forever
From the old world
of playboys, witches and fish,
I'll be just me
Dreaming my dreams
I'll never shovel snow
I'll just let it melt.


May the Good Lord bless you all --
Excuse me I've got to laugh.
See me in the morning
When the sun arises, 
I'll never let it set.
See me at the ocean
When the tide comes in --
It never goes out.
You'll see me
On a mountaintop maybe.
On a hillside walking
In a forest climbing trees
Eating fruits and nuts
Playing with rabbits.
But never ever find me
Shoveling snow


Remember


When the snow comes
Just let it melt.


########