soft light at the start of day
cold and gray, vapor strewn,
it dawned timid and reluctant,
falling light landing lightly
on the variegated cityscape.
– 12/7/09 – 5
Category Archives: Poetry
Footing
i lost my footing back in april
and found i was foundering
adrift without a tether tied
my soul no longer calm
it was anguish at first to feel
the pressing panic of my mind
a palpable fear that i had lost
solace in a constant will
yet through the turbulence
of my excited state of mind
a living truth was working
to stay a shaky confidence
and though not all is settled
and doubt yet delves beneath
hope is not quite diminished
nor truth so easily released
– 12/6/09 – 4
the last two lines have always bothered me (the meter is off), but i can’t figure out how to say what i want with the right meter, so i let it stand. this isn’t one of me best works, but it was written during the worst crisis of faith i’ve ever had, one that led eventually to a severe anxiety attack. so its personal. still, i’d like to see the last two lines resolved, so if you have any suggestions, i’m open to hearing them. :)
Dine and Dash
the din was deafening
all clamour and clash
friends and conversation
a dizzying dine and dash
– 12/5/09 – 3
Hard (i) (an edit)
someone said the test of love
is making hard decisions–
choosing, for another’s sake,
the necessary actions;
taking the proper path
though strewn with rocks,
watered with tears, and
fraught with pain.
for love chooses what is best
chooses what must be
shouldered, borne, and done,
in spite of what might be wanted,
regardless of what had been hoped.
from the poem Hard (i) by Joy Camburn in response to this post.
Driving
photons beaming,
the skyline gleaming
slow river flowing
past the silver arch
night sky brooding
frosted wind blowing
soft music playing
over the car stereo
– 12/4/09 – 2
Foghorn Leghorn
dissociative phrases slip in and out
foggy dew, fog lifted, foghorn, leghorn. ;)
creative buzz,
cackling energy welling
glad to be free.
free of the fog. there it is again,
chase the pent up rush.
ideas in a fuss,
hear the thrush! now focus. crisp.
clear, feel the clarity, contrasty,
images, razor sharp, like a knife.
now soft, fluid like water.
oh bother. chase the convolution
harry it like a cat and his mouse
or a bird and his prey
wait. where was i again?
– 12/3/09 – 1
Dogwood Blooming
dawn on a spring morning
sky blue and nascent green
dogwoods white with flowers blooming
in white light clearly seen.
Longing
a smile played on her face
aching, and lovely
a dusky room and warm
glowing red from tungsten
my desire is eager,
cloying, lingering
and when i wake, it hurts
Greet the Day
a cool morning light
floats through an open window
as you greet the day
New Love
i felt the swift and sudden drop
so eager, engaged, and desiring
but also the slow and sober thought
that she matters more to me than self
-4/7/08
Last Breath of Winter
The scent of spring was on the air this morning
Breathing deep a sigh after the rain
White blossoms on the dogwood are breaking
And the indigo tinge of magnolias
Signal the last breath winter
Gleam
you smile easily
so quick to be happy
and the world gleams
like a marble in your eyes.
Solace
the rain fell softly
while the choir sang of snowflakes
and the mournful music washed
over his lonely soul
Conversation
my dreams linger lightly on the wispy wimple
of the silver softness of my pillow
as i remember brightly the fine and fickle
flurry of the early evening hours
i will greet the morning, and the blushing brightness
of the subtle sunlight as it creeps across the floor
while i linger in the longing of the prior evening
thinking of the time i spent with her
Counterpoint
She is a song.
not the weaker,
but more fragile,
softer, sweeter
counterpoint:
to my melody
An Italian Vibe
An italian vibe
Floats on the air at gittos
with wine and pasta
Anna Mae Thompson
she was strong
brooking no obstacle
as a woman and a daughter
a sister, a wife, and a mother
she loved her family
giving without sparing
wise, determined, deeply caring
by breath and unshaking faith
she was my grandmother
loving and deeply proud
leaving a legacy of grace
hope born of faith and love
Sound
in the stillness a quiet room
a broken deep, a silent loom
the dulcet braid, the complex wave
the deafening empty pounding rave
Dusk
Softly the yellow dusk
Descended on the skyline
And golden light reflected
On the puddle after rain
Stricken
I am cut to the quick, I am stricken,
Undeserving of the mercy that You have given
How can I make for my life a demand
When all that I am is Yours to command
I grasp in my heart for what I deserve
I forget that my life is here only to serve
And I’m caught in between desire and love
Loosing sight of what waits for me above