'Pen'manship ( continuation of 'pen' series )

'Pen'manship

'Twas a cold winter day, outside there was no grass

close by the radiator I sat in writing class

with quill in hand shaping letters

I dreamt of warm days and summer flowers

Suddenly, a sharp pain in my struggling hand

brings me back from warm beach sand

back to the world of sister Marie-Fortuna, writing instructor

ruler in hand, striking eyes blue in color

the swollen knuckles of my hand, I'd say

revealed sister Marie-Fortunas passionate way

of creating an army of righthanders

forged by her flashing ruler

her hidden womanly beauty a mystery always

the smell of lavender in mind does stay

her soft breasts upon my back that day

made seconds seem like hours passing away

then, like a sickness possessing my mind

miserable script did attention find

dreams of ivory flesh under habit found

tortured youthful imagination unbound

time passed, I discovered the right hand world

as sister Marie watched my script unfurl

time with her swiftly passed for me

she did show me what no man would ever see

'Pen'umbra ( continuation of 'pen' series )

'Pen'umbra

In the purple morning haze, a homeless man stands

his brown cardboard castle erected on state owned land

the rising sun on marble towers sparkling clean

not far from him, freshly manicured green

faceless people swiftly moving between the ivory monoliths

all caught up in their daily habits

he gazes coldly upon those rushing and late

wishing not their chosen fate

Loud sounds of rubber on hot concrete

are heard as cars and trucks pass in the morning heat

He's the Lord of his realm in this vibrant city

having forgotten how this came to be

Nevertheless, life cruel dealt the cards

the hand he plays daily, cold and hard

As evening approaches with air sultry and thick

thunder echos around marble buildings brightly lit

dark clouds shed their waters upon his royal castle

he fights the torrent, a loosing battle

seeing the lightning and hearing the thunder roar

he seeks cover near the rivers' shore

safe from the bursting deluge fallen

he sees his castle home crumble all sodden

farewell, goodbye my home with sadness tinged

'Tis the price paid for living on the fringe

'Pen'ned Obituary ( continuation of 'pen' series )

'Pen'ned Obituary

The body of...The remains of...

strangers perused in obits of...

their lifes' achievements fresh in mind found

from recent obituaries in morning papers all around

as I sit alone, lingering in my chair

thoughts of those departed are sadly clear

those who have left this earthly world

gone to that special place where electrons whirl

back into star stuff and remain still

to replenish the world of light and fill

faint beams of fiery sunsets

whose beauty feed my vision and yet

seeing them in mind, walking, laughing, loving

vibrantly alive and real, like todays' sunset offering

The body of... The remains of...

their souls have flown like a frightened dove

gone far away from this earthly reality

separated from the remains of human identity

Are they no longer themselves in death

were they transformed, whisked away on eternal breath

leaving behind their everlasting quest for life above

The body of...The remains of...

'Pen'itence ( continuation of 'Pen' series....

'Pen'itence

A long-haired youthful woman at end of day

walks slowly where the river rolls away

deep brown sad eyes and raven hair

her soft skin ever so fair

bringing flowers, budding blooms from the nearby park

as the streets are quickly falling dark

walking softly on gravel stones

in summer breeze her hair windblown

her eyes close softly and silently weep

as she faces deaths eternal sleep

her hands grasping fragrant flowers at rest

held closely to her rounded breasts

moving towards the grave where silence hides

where markers are strewn by riverside

and restless birds in summer sing

a song of sorrow and soulful sting

the offering placed on ground moist and low

covers cold marble as white as snow

with the soft hues in flowers found

wishing peace to her lover underground

he will be mourned and missed

never to feel her gentle kiss

in earth his body does dwell

his coffin a narrow cell

Shameful contrition shall haunt the heart

of those whose leaders did war start

as memories take their toll on restless minds

who still haven't left the past behind

'Pen' etrative Awareness ( continuation of 'pen' series )

'Pen' etrative Awareness

The burning fires of distress give birth to consciousness

taking you deeper into yourself as you suffer

conscious everpresent painful awareness

that paints soulful love as a recognized player

In joyful moments of recent past

which become the future of yesterdays visions

merging certain thoughts with identity at last

your reality, a bundle of thoughts and emotions

are at peace with who you are without resentment

as you let success in others flood your being

and are carried to rich places and lovely moments

that echoe the silent voice rarely heard or even seen

The process in your mental web happens

formed by countless events past

irritating mental static of no purpose warps images shapen

that obscure the view of thoughts grasped

T'is a consequence of the human predicament

which protects fragile individuality

preventing the inner self from soaking up the moment

that spiritual immersion forges in identity

stop defining who you are, be yourself without stress or strife

be what life would have you play

then, realize that you don't live your life

but that your life lives you in every way

BP 'Pen' sive ( continuation of 'pen' series )

BP 'Pen' sive

Tis now time to be terribly sad

while the gulf waters are not so glad

nature weeps quietly all around

soaking up oily waters found

as mournful pelicans and stealthy crabs

stroll in the sticky deposits so bad

Yesterday, their shadows played on waves cresting

they walked on soft clean sands happily resting

now, the stench of death and of tar balls too

mar the reverence of nature in this realm

with the scarring of sacred waters it seems

Fishermen swear upon their souls to seek retribution

for this mortal sin of deadly pollution

upon these waters in distant land arrayed

with trackless streamers of oily shade

as the light of life quickly departs

our eyes water, sting and burn

T'is caused by the reality cold and stern

that nature will heal itself in time

will erase the scars in a Gulf so fine

and the weary fowls make wing again

as life struggles soaked in oily stains

Pen ultimate Dream ( continuation of 'pen' series )

Pen/ultimate Dream

Someplace between midnite and day

there's a place I often stay

T'is a world of shifting shadows

and sounds of whistling winds ever so

that blow in dark forests and over frosted hills

creating certain chills and forming pictures still

that linger in the mind like a caress

surrounding my spirit in its grasp, no more no less

T'is a place void of any dimension

where relentless time unfolds in slow-motion

as rainbow colors blend into my essence

and I become color, filled by its presence

T'is a place where distance becomes nothing

and nothing is a gentle feeling

floating on the stream of sorrow within my head

that spills over marble tomstones of unknown dead

T'is a place where spirit lovers meet

to merge as one without deceit

where the virgin kiss of life stands untouched

as a meaningless act rebuffed

T'is a sensuously blinding world of dazzling light

where life is death and death is gloriously right

in its compassionate awareness

that comforts my soul in its eternal quest

Sleep 'Pen' chant ( continuation of 'pen' series )

Sleep 'Pen' chant

Waking from a dream refreshingly spent

in the elusive realm of silent R.E.M.

where forbidden desires become nebulous activity

only to vanish too quickly, replaced by morning reality

my alert senses now ready for lifes' coming storm

awaiting todays happiness yet unborn

as I move towards that certain collision with desire

which will test the dreamers' hidden fire

Were I blind, I could not see the beauty of happiness

I would nevertheless sense the glow of goodness

perception without analysis that is always refreshing

as the mind feels the everpresent surroundings

to know myself and live with that knowledge

as freedom of choice marks the cliffs' edge

that boundary between desire and suffering

giving up some joys, a common thing

to live life efficiently in societys' way

waiting for the night to return and for a while stay

as ill-conceived happiness haunts nightly desire

during my penchant for dreams in R.E.M. fire