Sunday Afternoon Musings (Cloudless)

Sunday Afternoon Musings (Cloudless)

My eyes look into the bright blue skies

But they cannot do so for long

The sunlight is too bright

And there is no endpoint on which to focus

My eyes keep wanting to see something they can grasp

 Something they can clasp

Anchored into the sure, the known

Yet into the wonder I have been thrown

So deeper, higher I long to see

So I look again

And see the smile, the face of God

The vultures come by the droves

One hawk soars among them

Even death is swallowed up in worship

Transformed into the sweeping flight of angels

Dancing majestically to the music

A scavenger turned to soarer

In the midst of the one who knows

In the midst of the one who is known

Interruptions are the sounds of life

So don't bemoan them like death

For silence is the music of the graveyard

And order its breath of day

So do you please care to stay

Fill my life with your vibrant libations

I will do so in return

For this is how the living learn

To swim in the wondrous waters

The places of the deeps, unknown

For again it is into wonder we've been thrown

We have to force ourselves out of the joys

By walking the earth alone

It was never meant to be that way

So I’ll step into the fray

All the while stepping into the peaceful

Kingdom

Kingdom

I want to go back to the homelands

I don’t even know exactly why

My ancestry here goes back 200 years

But my spirit still lets out a sigh

A sigh that echoes off the cliffs of Dover

A sigh that resonates with the pipes

I sense my heartbeat swelling larger

This longing flies in the winds as a kite

Yet I am held by this string

Called the American dream

Held in bondage within the land of the free

Home of the brave

Yet a commoner, a carter, a knave

There is still something gloriously grand within me

Something mysterious as in the Land’s End

The land, the earth, is calling me friend

The mists, the swells, the rain, the sea

Is calling to say that it misses me

I don’t know why

Another sigh

One day I must walk amongst the greens

The giants, the hills

I’ll walk the walks, I’ll smell the moors

I’ll feel the winds, I’ll find the doors

To a land of ancient wisdom, tales

Of beauty, sorrow, yearning, sails

I will find something there that tells only me

Exactly who I was made to be

I will walk in the midst of the kingdom

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Trivial

Trivial

Without the daily occurrences

There would be no poetry

We all look for the grandeur

There is nothing wrong with that

Except we tend to miss the glorious 

Within the small, the tedious, the mundane

For wisdom plainly speaks

The greatest goodness is in the earth

It is the poet who discovers it

Then attempts to reveal it through simple paper

Simple pen

A tree gave its life so a greater beauty can be expressed

A simple paper

A simple pen

Just one more simple thing 

Hiding in the winepress

Awaiting the announcements of the angels

Awaiting the arrival of hope, of power, of truth

To cause discovery to come to be

Another Other

Another Other

I had to take a nap today

I was completely exhausted

From trying to be someone I’m not

I guess that’s why some have to drink their coffee

I guess that’s why some have to smoke their pot

It seems we’re all one day thrown into this game

This game where so very few are winners

This show, this play, this fantasy world

Of lights, of sounds, of spinners

We’re supposed to act one way in public

Then be another whole other in bed

We’re supposed to smile like there is no tomorrow

Even when our past and our present are dead

We must laugh when we want to be somber

We must cry when we just want to leave

We must carry every one else’s burdens

While our own over Gibraltar we heave

Into the oceans of forgetfulness and naught

I had to take a nap today

I need one every time

I work to live out another’s poem

Instead of living out my own rhyme

Springtime

Springtime

It's snowing flower petals at my house 

pinks, purples, whites 

all the while the sky is sullen

ashen grey 

what a contrast on this day

maybe it is what you see, 

or how you see it,

that makes the difference

Movement in Pi

Movement in Pi (π)

It is a poet’s most dreaded moment

When there is nothing to write

The entire world within is dead

Which makes all things without the same

Even though the sun shines brightly

Even though the grass is being mowed

Even as the wasps and bees swirl around the window panes

And the ceiling fan just quietly keeps going around

I am much more like that fan right now

Though I don’t think dead things go in circles

So maybe there is a hope after all

Just the fact there is a movement in pi (π)

Is enough to bring a spark of life

So once again I see the plan

That even in the midst of the dreaded death

There is nothing to write, but there is nothing but life

I just love the Circle

The Role

The Role

How I see facts

May not be how reality sees facts

So what I see, what I experience

Might not be the truth at all

It might be a part of the play

The key point in the drama

Where the antagonist is in the midst

There just might be a turn in this plot

Rising up on the horizon

So maybe I will wait here for the sun to rise

Before I embrace the darkness of the night.

Borderlands

Borderlands

I sense a great chaos

Churning and turning

Roaring and buzzing

Multiple ideas, and thoughts

Lies and truths

Swirling in a great pandemonium

All within the confines of my mind

An entire universe of universes

Trapped within the rind

Of a cantaloupe

I am about to burst asunder

Spilling all of this new wine out on the ground

Releasing nothing but the anguishing sound

Of goodness being pulled into the soil

But wait

Where there is a boundary, there is a gate

I see and feel this border, frozen

Yet it lies amongst these paths I’ve chosen

I run into it everywhere

I feel its presence in the air

I know this is something deeper

Stronger

Steeper

Wider

More intoxicating than bourbon cider

It pulsates with a living life

It forms a bridge across all chasm

I know it only as a rhythm

That continuously beats across all times

It continuously harvests all life’s rhymes

Producing only the best of wines

I wait for sun or for perdition

I wait for love or for admonitions

I wait for song and I wait for dance

I wait for love and a stark romance

Drawing closer to the rhythm

Drawing closer to the rhythm

Liberation (the unwrapping)

Liberation (the unwrapping)

There’s an app to tell me how well I’ve slept

An app to tell me if I’ve walked enough

An app to keep me on my feet

An app to measure if I’m fit and tough

Yet there’s not an app to help rid me of this anger

Nothing to diagnose this loneliness, this angst

There’s not an app to tell me why I can never seem

To find the level where my soul is ranked

There’s not an app to help me find my tribe

The place where destiny dwells

No

No place amongst the robotic swells

Only life seems to be able to do this

Only living among the living and not amongst the dead

Nor amongst the robotic

So I set my phone down on the table’s bed

I walk outside and I keep on walking

My pedometer thinking I’m just a lazy slob

but the real me is walking into true freedom

This is just what I needed

The Rush

Rush

Sometimes I sit here before this scene

Like a frenzied race horse stuck in the gates

Ready years ago to be released into the race

The race declared long past to be finished

Yet I still want to run

Others have run and run well

I stand amongst the earthen swell

Feeling like I have nothing to give, nothing to say

Just looking across an empty day

To another empty chasm

A chasm made of iron, just a small depth in width

Yet completely reliant on the will of another

My ambition is causing me to almost smother

In the thoughts of what was, what could be

I long to be free

I long to be me, even in the midst of darkened frustrations

Disappointments, disillusioned, a milieu of temptations

Yielded to but not forgotten, spat upon but loved all the same

I stand here at the gate, I remember my name

And the door swings open wide with a rush

Photo by Doug Pensinger/Getty Images/Google Images

The Daily

The Daily

I’d like to write a poem every day

Yet I seem to run out of things to say

That happens when the clock runs your life

No time to take the time for living

Just keep on going and keep on giving

Until there is nothing left in the heart or soul or mind

So unwind

I’m finding it’s ok to have time for me

I’m finding it’s ok to have fun and be free

It’s perfectly good to say no to the good

So I can say yes to the best

A day of nothing, a week of rest

These are the things that creativity grows well in

So get out of the clatter and noisy din

Take a trip to the mountains, even if just in your mind

Let life begin to fill your hopes and dreams

Let love begin to replace the time

This is where life begins to grow and have meaning

A wondrous start to each day