Years of Love
Years of love
compressed
into few moments
of conversation .
Across
backdrop
of light stretched
blue,
a spider careful,
delicately crawls
weaving webs
between
white worn rails
of time .
Soft music playing ,
lovers speak
In different accents ,
about the past ,
all made present ,
made one ,
real
while side by side ,
dove and sparrow
watch
The Book
He spoke from within his sadness and regret .Was it too late? His wisdom could not save himas his father’s Faith and Humility had .After all his father had known glory but also knew blood and death .His father had been humbled and suffered torments and regret earlier in his life .He had been betrayed and judged by men and women ,even friends and servants .He suffered greatly and clung to his faith to save himself from drowning in his own tears .His father’s plate was a constant battle sustained by faith ,repentance and humility .The son knew now of himself,
that he had been imperfectly born .He had lived his life in glory, building, with little suffering. He had judged many, and now late in life realized that he had been lead astray by ease and wealth , by so many different perfumed charms and whispers. Defeated and weakened by his own power he realizes those few first stray steps have lead him so far away, and that it is such a long journey back now, in light that has grown very dim . He speaks pearls of wisdom for willing ears :
“Remove from me vanity and lies. Give me neither poverty or riches
Feed me with food convenient for me lest I be full and say: ” Who is the Lord ” or lest I be poor and steal and take the name of the Lord in vain” ****
“A good name Is better than precious ointment ; And the day of death is better than the day of oneʼs birth . It is better to go to the house of mourning , than to go to the house of feasting :
for that is the end of all and the living will lay it to heart . Sorrow is better than laughter: for by sadness of the countenance the heart is made better . The heart of the wise is in the house of mourning but the heart of fools is in the house of mirth” ***
***Ecclesiates 7 2/4 ****Proverbs 30 8/9
Perfect Silence
The monstrosity
Of man made machines
Violates a perfect
Silence .
Nature is spoiled .
Peace disconnected .
The servants must
have their masters
and The Masters must have
their due.
The time is made for killing
and kill is
what we do .
There’s no time left
to hear our breathing
or feel souls intact
and made whole .
No time left
for given mercies .
It’s the taking that we
must do.
And so our meditations
are flat
our hearts still and frozen ,
turning shades of blue .
We all simply
must continue
and do
what we must do
We prey
for the perfect silence
of simple aggregates ,
to come once again :
Those that we gather
all on our own alone
stone by single stone
and those gathered together
that are thrown
upon us both
by handful
and by a final spade .
Thus is the silence made .
Bill
Bill sits slumped shouldered
At his table siping coffee
Holding a cigarette
in gnarled fingers
With his white
runners on
Thinking
Alone
Am
I
Bushman’s Hallelujah
The percussive beat
rolls on,
non stop in the night,
a quick pitter patting
of an excited heart,
a bushman’s hallelujah
The percussive beat
rolls on,
non stop in the night,
a quick pitter patting
of an excited heart,
a bushman’s hallelujah .
The beat slowed down
like water drops
running out
that dropped
progressively slower
to faint
and quiet beats,
that fade.
Dead silence
In the night
replaced them.
Planes landed .
Lights in windows
turned on ,
and silently
life continued
in them .
From “Ruminations Of The Dead” by PWChaltas
http://blip.tv/katedimbleby/twenty-mile-zone-5165891
Twenty-Mile Zone
By Dory Previn
I was riding in my car
Screaming at the night
Screaming at the dark
Screaming at fright
I wasn’t doing nothing
Just drive about
Screaming at the dark
Letting it out
That’s all I was doing
Just letting it out
Well along comes a motorcycle
Very much to my surprise
I said officer was I speeding
I couldn’t see his eyes
He said no you weren’t speeding
And he felt where his gun was hung
He said lady you were screaming
At the top of your lung
And you were
Doing it along
You were doing it alone
You were screaming in your car
In a twenty-mile zone
You were doing it alone
You were doing it alone
You were screaming
I said I’ll roll up all my windows
Don’t want to disturb the peace
I’m just a creature
Who is looking
For a little release
I said
And what’s so wrong with screaming
Don’t you do it at your games
When the quarterback
Breaks an elbow
When the boxer beats and maims
But you were
Doing it alone
You were doing it alone
You were screaming in your car
In a twenty-mile zone
You were doing it alone
You were doing it alone
You were screaming
I said animals roar
When they feel like
Why can’t we do that too
Instead of screaming
Banzai baby
In the war in the human zoo
He said I got to take you in now
Follow me right behind
And let’s have no more screaming
Like you’re out of your mind
So he climbed aboard his cycle
And his red-eyed headlight beamed
And his motor started spinning
And his siren screamed
He was doing it alone
He was doing it alone
He was screaming on his bike
In a twenty-mile zone
He was doing it alone
He was doing it alone
He was screaming
I was doing it alone
I was doing it alone
I was screaming in my car
In a twenty-mile zone
I was doing it alone
I was doing it alone
I was screaming
We were doing it together
We were doing it together
We were screaming at the dark
In a twenty-mile zone
We were doing it together
We were doing it together
We were screaming
We were doing it together
We were doing it
Together
Alone
In a twenty-mile zone
Disjointed Muse
A disjointed muse has hold of me.
Crossing city streets
aimlessly with a knife
at my back
and a blonde woman
walking in front of me ,
wondering what it would be like
being hit by a speeding car
and in a millisecond
becoming
a broken bag of bones …
But let’s save that experience
for another night .
Signs
Sign on the Highway :
Life is a gift to be enjoyed . Happiness doesn’t have to be expensive .
Sign on A Cemetery Wall :
“Space Available ”
Sign on A Church::
“In an empire of lies, the truth is treason ” – George Orwell
PWChaltas 