Two Sonnets:

11-19-11

Oh, that, you should surely find us,

In the mire, and mud filled space,

Which, we so desperately inhibit thus,

Forever, till we must face

The depth of, what we know is our vice,

Our forever, ever, longing souls that seek another.

So if our blind fool love shall continue on twice,

Let us stand apart from all those that smother

These discourses of ever loving madness

That stem from our invisible dry bones.

I must, without doubt, follow in sadness

That must, as they say, cry out in feverish tones.

All things must be destroyed, among it shall be few

But surely, you will make all things new. 

 

10-15-11

If the green and blue were big and I were small,

The water deep, and my heart so wide,

I’d find a place in plain sight in which to hide,

and there I would believe I’d finally found my call.

So I smell the green that’s sometimes big and sometimes tall,

It has a friend within my soul, I know because it is my guide

Though the colors of the deep, and to where I stand at another’s side.

For if say, “come along my dear soul, soon you’ll forget it all.”

I’d forsake what I forever knew was true, that all I could need

Is another man’s soul to fill mine and make it whole.

The look of the sky, and the tear in her eye

Crumbles the deepest, darkest murmurs on which I feed.

She doesn’t see light; her eyes got up and took a stroll

And walked away, letting out a great sigh. 

Fryderyk Chopin 10-18-11

Oh master of the ivory keys,
Within the melodious tunes
And wordless sonnets played
Deep within the souls
And hearts of men
You speak to none
But yourself, the deepest
Pit of nothing filled with
Songs of who all men are.
So requiem for my soul,
And let your notes drift asleep,
As it fades through my weary
Mind onward through the moon
That is my wandering thoughts,
Whispers through my ears,
And wanders through ever-rolling
Hills which never stop singing the
Poetry of the keys to my heart.

The monster of the miserable

9.3.11
Take control,
And lead my skull,
You vile creature of
Unwanted, dissidence that
Makes me un-whole.
For, to think what I think
Is to use what you love
to take an unwanted drink
Of who you are,
Not what I am
Inside, or outside
of my soul which is ajar.
I stand on top of it beside
All other things which
Make me want to hide
Far away from your philharmonic pitch
Of endless noise inside my head
I can’t control.
For, from this I fled,
And always, forever will
Until I’m dead,
Or in someone else’s head.
For to be made whole,
Free, and without a sense
Of breath,
Is my expense
That I am always, forever until death,
To pay, to you, the standard of joy,
The monster of miserable.
You are my emotions,
And I am not pleased.

Fascinating Fixation

I find my greatest fascination within
My standard fixation
With your heart;
The place where I start
To fear the wind, the rain,
And the place within the plain,
Regular tree, 33 feet tall,
Grows in the fall.
These are my standard fixations,
This place and its creations.
There’s no fate in this general fear
That we share together with a sneer,
As we watch the sun set on our yellow brick road,
The absolute, simple, mundane life that snowed
On our plans,
And messed up our vans.
I wish I was here longer,
we’d all be so much stronger,
we’d watch the sun rise,
a child’s heart grow in size,
and the wind knock us around
as we stare at the ground.
So don’t run away
Stay, stay, stay.
Your fixation is my fascination,
and your love is my satisfaction.

Death

I quit the one poem a day thing.

“One man looks at a dying bird and thinks there’s nothing but unanswered pain. That death’s got the final word, it’s laughing at him. Another man sees that same bird, feels the glory, feels something smiling through it.” – The Thin Red Line

Death: 4:22:11

Some men see the dark
Some men feel its mark
But some men see its vile
And stand back and smile

There’s something there
That makes them stare
There’s something there
That makes them care
And something deep within
That’s underneath their hardened skin

So be still my soul
Soon you will be full
On the edge you stand
The time is at hand
the day you always planned!

There’s a time to wonder,
And a time to plunder
But now is not that time
Now we die, now we cry,
Now we run away and fly
The end we fear,
The day draws near
But my soul it hides
My soul it guides
My God, my maker, in which I hide
I stand alone beneath this tide
I stand alone, and never die
If it be true, that dark will try
to keep me underneath its frown.
To keep my soul from its crown

So stay awake my weary smile
For a little while.
Some men see the dying bird
And let it be their end, their final word
But some men feel its story…
Some men feel the glory…

Day 4

This is me, and how I go after silly things. If you don’t do that, than you’re even more silly than I am.

4:4:11
Don’t watch too closely
I’m all still here
I can’t sleep
Sitting on the steep
Hill that I make my stand
That seems so bland
“There’s more right?”
“With more fight?”
So you say we own too much
All that such and such
We aren’t content
With the stars and a tent
So let’s make a big scene
And forget to be clean
We gotta run away
Us and the fray, April and may.
Come out of the shadows into guilty light
It’s about time that we made that fight
Worth the wait, worth its weight!
Oh, be done with us my soul
Never will I reach my goal
Because I will no longer sit and weep
I just want to get some sleep
So please go away and let me keep
This to myself.

Day 3

A River
4:3:11
Always there, but never still
I wish I could stop you so I could fill
My heart and stare
Empty and full of despair
If only I could stop you
A simple bit of blue
Surely I would know
About the time you were snow
and I would know the story
Of how you cut a quarry
truly I would know it all
The history of the fall

The thought that all water in some way has been around since the beginning of time has always baffled me, when I take a drink of water that water could have at some point been bathed in by a dinosaur. If only water could talk, I think we could know the history of the whole world, the time of creation, and everything else we ever wanted to know.

Riding my Bike: Day 2

Here’s my second poem for this month:

Wind rushing
Soul crushing
Sweat pouring
Tires roaring
I feel connected
To the machine I respected
Solitude ahead
I won’t drop dead
Cause I do not dread
The hills I climbed
And the world I find
As I ride away
To where I can’t stay.

30 days, 30 poems

In celebration of national poetry month I will be attempting to create 1 poem for each day.

Life:

4:1:11

A cold shower, a warm day,
An old wagon full of hay.
A wrinkled farmer, watching the blaze
A world covered in a deep blue haze.

A sun rises, a sun sets,
An old man, filled with deep regrets.
An empty parking lot, a grassy field
An old hubcap, a new shield.

A limping dog, a picture of grace
A silent young man, with a look on his face.
A garbage dump, an adventureland,
A lone hill, to take a stand.

A crying child, a noiseless sound
A treasure chest that can’t be found.
A new war, a new strife
A new body, a new life.

Some Peoms

It’s been awhile since I have posted, here are some more poems from past and present that I have written.

Cloudy Gold

*inspired by a rainy day.

The clouds above can’t hold

Their gold

Any longer

And we just get stronger

-

So I wander around

Without a sound

Unable to think

This might be my drink

-

So down it falls

As I call

To the street lights

In the faint night

-

Pitter, patter

That gold goes splatter

The light simmers

As it glimmers

-

I breathe in

And feel my skin

As it breaks the fall

Of these skyward cannon balls

-

So thanks for these treasures

That you gift us with pleasure

Oh cloudy night

That shines so bright.

 

The King Above All:

Bring to the God, Above all kings

Something within, to sing of all things

I cannot reply to this beautiful sky

That makes me cry and wonder why

The king full of grace would decide to face

This undefiled space that we cannot embrace.

 

Take to the ground, at the rolling sound

As the children are drowned as they wait to be found.

The depth of all dark, has made its mark

But the God who made an arc will not surrender his spark,

But save the souls from he who controls

Finding in him, what makes us whole.

What You Are:

“That’s what you are,
A broken, fallen star.”
Or so they say,
As the dull music plays
In the back of your mind
Wondering why the people can’t be more kind
When they label us all
Mysterious and unique
Short and tall,
So to speak.
Or maybe we’re tired of hearing
About the places we’ll go
And the things we’ll know.
What if a moment, we took to pretend
that this world was a story, that we had to attend.
I’m not trying to make it all rhyme,
This world and its crime, all at one time.
But think for a minute,
If you’d like to be in it,
The life that isn’t all fame and success,
But always knows why you can’t solve this big mess.

Enjoy, and expect more om April.