Hemingway
Standing in the street,
In a blue thin striped shirt,
And short white shorts,
Hands in pockets,
Slightly balding,
Looking for a sign,
Waiting solemn.
Hemingway Stands
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Tag Archives: time
The Boatman Has Grown Thin
The Boatman
has grown thin
He has shaved his head and beard,
limbs are very slight.
And he is wearing rolled up pants
a kin to Gandhi.
He plays his ancient
Oar and mandolin
With an even greater passion
Seen only
In his eyes and
Quickly nimble fingers.
As he plays an eastern tune
by a placid river shore.
The journeys seem
Fewer now.
He doesn’t sing,
Yet his gentle smile is there.
He stops to rest,
puts his strumming hand on heart,
Thankful for another
Day
on one side of the river;
A benign lump
in his throat.
Young Hemingway
Young Hemingway,
His new grown beard still black,
And rough,
Walks between
The cars
with an empty paper cup,
Acting tough,
And just before
he would
Have gotten paid,
He turns away,
And waves his arms
In circles to the sky,
Saying
Enough is enough.
Faces of a Cohen
Faces of a Cohen
A life in The Word
A human
Condition;
Testament to
That crack in everything
That lets the light in.
#poem #poetry #micropoetry
Old New
When old worlds end
And new worlds begin
We long
For simplicity & comfort
Of old worlds,
But change doled out
Is the only certainty,
And creation a necessity
Blue Clouded Streak
Blue Clouded Streak
There is a blue
Clouded streak
In the night sky
As if moon
was shining
through,
But there is
no moon.
There is a blue
Clouded streak
In the night sky,
As if blue day was
covered by
A velvet curtain;
dark ultra blue.
There is a blue
Parted stream in
The night sky
As the day
and its aspirations
Die quietly
Now covered
By purpled
darkness where
Only a solitary pair
Of wings is heard fluttering.
Go Last
Go Last.
1/ Don’t Know Why
Don’t know why
after so
Many years,
And after collection
After collection
of haptic verse
laid down
And written in arenas
Of solitude
and midnight silence:
-A decision to make them
Public;
Except perhaps
for the encouragement
Of friends,
Except perhaps,
For a heart rending love,
Except perhaps
For that quiet
and delightful terror
Lately,
That gnaws
contently, consistently,
About my errors,
And moves
The human family
Skeletons
to
Dance.
2/ Heart
Labours during
the day
like,
so many;
And at times
On the road,
And very late at night,
Or in the early dark morning,
In certain breaths,
Come
heart full voluntary deaths
Self inflicted
By outside coming
verse;
And by the music
And sound of words;
Enough deaths
perhaps,
that
at some
unexpected,
But expected
moment,
An aortic arch
May burst
In an
appropriate
conclusion
to the
passion,
ending all illusion;
With a single arrow,
Or many arrows,
And this heart
-leaking
Will Finally
go
Last.
Free Verse in Useless Times
The lights flickering
In the distance are red
and I believe that
I’ve totally lost my head.
The city it seems
is burning red
tonight
Not sure of
just what I’ve said
from one moment
to the other.
Verse pours out like
random bread that’s
passed out
for the swollen bellies
of the famished.
See how skeletal they sit
or lie beside
their mothers,
and are easily
mistaken for the dead,
like so many
of the others all around them.
A look is in
children’s eyes,
eyes with wrinkles
deeply etched.
Mother’s are cradling
their heads.
Hunger, pain
live here raw
like free verse
doled out
by parted
empty lips
in vacant
useless times.
Women and children
gather scraps of metal
in abandoned mines
at the expense
of fragile lives,
like free verse collected
in some
long forgotten,
still,
and useless time.
And all
seems random
here
and destined
certain
not to survive.
No need for
lullabies,
no need for the contrived
lines of verse
that rhyme,
It’s just all meant
to be so simple:
Death just comes
wandering here,
meandering
on its own
picking
left and right,
whatever
may be in sight,
like free verse in
useless times.
My Father
Image
My father used to ask
where are you ?
And I would say
here I am.
Now I ask him
Where are you ?
And in the silence
Of night dreams
He says :
here I am .
Love in Now
Image
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 .
PWChaltas 