The Wandering
Drink the
Bitter waters
Of our shores .
I no longer recognize
My home .
The doors
white painted
Handles,locks
All changed
in a darkness filled
with only wandering
stray cat
I wish to cry
but I cannot
while others watch
in pillowed semi sleep
from once lit
sacred libraries,
now turned shaded
bedroom windows.
Clusters of coloured
petunias
on lamp posts
and Street Music
exploding
As couples walk
hand in hand
Up Walton street
Sidewalks
sun bleached
In white
Views
We
All have different views :
Some view from above
And
Some from below .
some look back and
some straight ahead
some north or south and
some east or west
some look
Inside and
Some look
outside
some in darkness
some in light
some see from youth
And some see from
Oncoming death but
None
Except through faith
can
easily see it all ,
as it is ,
one ,
one
and
the same .
Mundane Thoughts
Mundane thoughts
recorded
mind and eye
Insignificant
observation
statement
of the heart
Stock in trade
of dilettante or
of Hemingway
Van Gogh
Neruda
Plath
and Picasso.
Fascination
of inhabiting
another’s mind
Life effervescent
most relevant
In time
Dark rum and
diet coke
squeeze of lime
Pot roast
And Yorkshire
Pudding
At Montana’s
red meat
Sublime but
not quite so Hemingway
as an absinthe
or dry martini
such a crime
Void Voice
I was tired
you gave me rest .
I was desolate
consumed by a void
till I heard
A silent sacred voice
Spilling into it
so very clearly
In a sparkling flow
Peace relieve me.
Grief let me learn to
live with less .
Give me more of that
stark and simple insight
courage
so that I can
Openly confess
that all is one .
The Point
What’s the point
my friend ?
The garrison
Is taken .
Slow and steady wins
the race ?
Don’t just stand there
do something
MORE
THAN facing down the stare
of enemy ,
without
and within .
Make a move and
turn the stone
use it
Overturn
the mighty
with a single word .
Pen, stone & craft
fly
So much mightier
than currency and sword
Broken Angel
Broken angel
sitting on the steps
out on your own
You’ve lost
A friend,
And love;
I know,
It’s so hard to be alone
Broken angel
I’ve been there
Once before.
I remember.
It seems it was so
Many years ago
Your arms
Are bruised
Your wings are torn
You heart is shattered
Broken angel
Are you able to perform
The miracles
by night again?
Broken angel
I know it’s just
Not right,
But that’s just how
It seems to go,
you have to fight,
The deepest darkest
battles all alone at night
broken angel.
Broken angel
You’re the only angel
that I know.
There were others
Once but they all
gave up and had to go.
They all just
turned around
and flew away.
They’ve gone
for good now
broken angel
and so I ask
If I can stay,
And spend this night
On simple steps
with you aglow
so we
can fight
this darkness
that we know
together
till the early morning
light of day.
You and I both together,
won’t be long,
Till the coming
Of the early morning dawn
my broken broken angel.
Photo credit : http://www.escapeintolife.com/store/sellers/anne-d-mejaki
Love in Now
Touch this body
Touch this mind
Take my hand
and let’s embrace
each other from inside
I am here
I am yours and you
Are mine
and There’s only
Just a point of vacant space
and time
left for all our loving ,
Left for this love we’ve made
Thoughout the years
Sharing, serving secrets
in the dark
and if tomorrow
In a flash of morning
sparks
This all
just ends
And
This body you have held
Is lowered softly
with the simple earth to meld ,
Just a measured breath
graced by loving angels
then
What matters is
Our love in now
so lets love again
and it will be alright
Love each other
Deep tonight
Once again
enfolding body soul and mind
So sweetly in this dark
Thats lit by love
and burning candles .
Your hands are mine
And mine are yours
This Love of mine ,
this love of yours .
Here together in
this flowing river
we call time .
Your Taste
You and I ,
the same ,
Occupy
Undifferentiated
Raw corners of existence .
Treading
An ephemeral
Step, this footprint
Time and earth cover,
Excavated only
by fate and
enduring heart.
PWChaltas 