I want to write all all day.
Instead, I pull myself free
sideways, out of the riptide
that would release me
into an ocean of words,
images, ideas; the vast
wilds and winds of Wonder
wherein each poem is cast,
and forms, and floats,
and gets washed back.
Category Archives: Passion
Tides and Toils
Homecoming
Over the bridge I thought I burned;
Has this trip home been decades late?
Yet I remember every turn,
And every smell, and every taste.
Memories scattered by the road
As wild poppies on the highway,
Past each new bend an old bloom grows;
And not one has died away.
Following the flow of paint and tar;
Headway through the pain and loss.
Sorrow never stretched so far,
Nor was a greater ocean crossed.
I pursue my childish apparition
And the smell of salt in the air-
Have I forgotten my root system?
I am from somewhere.
I reach the end of land,
The end of me, the end of running
Chanting waves on cluttered sand
Sing the forgotten into forthcoming.
All these years of mourning
A land that never died.
A sudden break in storming;
Nothing is lost. We are alive.
Staring into the waves and wind,
Until the sea stares into me.
I remember who I’ve been,
And who I may still be.
Communicating with You
All these words come pouring out
Like booze from the bottle,
Screams from the bereaved,
And some things aren’t throttled.
You take me with a grain of salt,
But I know you haven’t been
Walking the same bitter earth
And dark hour I’ve lived in.
So when we are done sparring
With syllables and sentiments,
And supporting self-aggrandizement
With our petty resentments
Maybe I’ll hear you, really listen,
And maybe you could lower your defenses
To see what I’m weaving isn’t
Dangerous or wild or senseless.
We could commune
In honesty of thought and speech,
And love could end the war;
Love could bind the breach.
Through the Looking Glass
I don’t call it by name
Because that’s an invitation-
I live on the river bed,
Underneath civilization;
I’m so still, but I feel the constant flow.
I didn’t know-
Rock-bottom isn’t a location,
But a perspective;
An after-taste of damnation
Intensifies redemptive mouthfuls.
I sank like doubtful,
But His fingers lifted my fixations
From a muddy grave.
I rely on His instigations
To prevent my constant sinking.
And the ebb and flow I’m drinking
Is His pulling me from desolation,
And my thanks,
And my falling from consecration
To my familiar perspective.
My sin is introspective
And narcissistic contemplation-
And are these blues
Sin- or the excavation
Of repentance and remembrance?
The Devil in the Deep Blue Sea
Break, my little boat, break,
Through the tempest, out to sea.
Hear in the howling winds aswirl
The final song I sing.
Close up my regrets and sorrow
Below deck, in rhythmic dark.
Let all my love and hope sing
Above board as you embark.
It’s time, my little boat, it’s time,
You do not need your oars.
The current has you now,
And now the current’s yours.
Keep your course, watch the stars,
Bear the bitter winds that blow.
Carry on, my little one,
You carry precious cargo.
When you reach the other shore,
Give love its castle-keep,
But do not free my sad regrets
Take those to the deeps
Then sink, my little boat, sink
Into some mysterious abyss.
Go down into the depths
Where all the ghosts live.
So my widow’s walk alone in sand,
Searching the gray skyline,
Won’t yield my empty little boat,
Sea-soaked in the sour brine
Of memory and regret.
Nature’s Finery
Her once golden array
Flowing down around her supple limbs
When all was new and the day
Tangled around her sun-dark skin as
Sheets of desire, spilled Cabernet,
Wasted hours on foolish whims.
These winters, cold and cruel,
Unleashed unholy, jealous rage
She was passion- a capricious fool
Laying uncovered until engaged
The flawless fell to brutal-
The ageless aged.
She wanders wild, confused,
Clutching her threadbare shawl
Her lovers long ago excused
Her unbowed features fall
Into the wrinkle, spot, and bruised
By the loss of her enthralled
She roams in search of her wailing wall.
Midnight Run
Midnight was in her raven hair,
But I saw not her shape-
She rode with the fury of hell at her back,
And a locket chained at her nape.
And the beat of the hooves, and the billows of breath,
Was the rhythm of her escape.
I spent the evening with a friend,
And as I tarried late,
I took the wooded shortcut home
To the back of my garden gate,
And there I stood, and there she passed,
The crossings of the fates.
Humility
How gently, falling snow,
Without authority or force,
Without ever raising your voice,
You transform all I know.
All I see is rebirth
Softer than the gentle rain pours
You float, you follow your course
Changing the face of earth.
Hubris
A new idea, a new idea,
And all of you must bow down low,
Put on the yoke, put on the yoke,
I do not listen for I know.
Try it on, you must try it on,
How will you ever know I’m right
Unless you yield your point of view;
Your faith, your passion, and insight.
Be quiet now, be quiet now,
Don’t dare assume I’ll fail this time
As all the times before have gone;
The only Right Idea is Mine.
Reboot the System
Depression is the next seduction.
Stuck in another deconstruction,
I hate the long transitions
Stuck in my own sedition-
How long are these traditions,
These binary oppositions-
I wish I could follow instruction.
I wish I didn’t speak destruction.
I miss the walks on the sandy shore-
I know I don’t belong there anymore.
No one thought I’d find subsistence.
It’s hard to break the habit of resistance.
I want proximity that isn’t coincidence.
Every part of life is long-distance.
I’ve walked all the new roads before
There’s nothing left here to explore.
I feel trapped in a world of vanity-
Ego is the worst profanity,
And we’ve built our towers high.
I wish I could still see the sky.
I wish I could hear the tide.
The waves are just implied,
But they were once my sanity.
What do I contribute to humanity?
I wish I could find my purpose.
I’m sick of the three-ring circus
Everyone is a juggler at a cheap fair
Everything stays in the air.
I meant to be more prepared.
I’ve dropped everything on a prayer,
And a cluttered surface.
I forget when I get nervous.
I need to take a walk to remind me,
I need for You to find me.
I’m good at shutting out the noise,
Carving fancy decoys-
Some towers need to be destroyed.
Deconstruct these cheap ploys,
Show me again Your glory,
Tell me again our story.
viewingcamelot 