Wood and Glass Squared...

Wood and Glass Squared

When framed glass and wood

greets the sun rising

the morning light stops hiding

and shines brightly as it should

The season's breath on frosted leaves

urges them to dance like living things

they soar on cold gusting winds

and fulfill natures' assigned creed

When outside squared wood and glass

and carried aloft on air currents

twirling and spinning in the moment

He is the leaf finally outcast

When awareness fixes his reflection

in the depth of life's wood and glass

his spirit accepts time elapsed

forfeited gladly to the next generation

Youth sheltered within expect sunlight

to appear beyond framed glass and wood

where it shines as it should

to warmly expose dead leaves in flight

So, when those leaves flutter earthbound

outside their framed wood and glass

they mark their lives as passed

and lie peacefully on the ground

A Life's Night...

A Life's Night

Whistling winds at my bedroom window

they sound like soulful sorrow

and with eyes shut I see darkness shown

while my wandering spirit roams alone

stepping lightly towards an iron gate

unhurried, but quite late

my soul dances above muddied grounds

to the tune of distant sounds

Light flashes stab my minds eye

painting colors as they fly

that fill dreamful hours

with perfumed painted flowers

as scenes from youth crystal clear

return vividly under nights' care

They sting misty windows in exile

and obscure my backward glancing sight

as night winds whisper mournful tales

during sweeping midnight gales

Distant church bells softly ringing

cram my ears with their joyful greeting

In dream, tears of happiness form

for the coming of the new dawn

where love carried on the morning breeze

will part that iron gate with ease

and just beyond that dreamful barrier

blissful joy will comfort this dream lover

while in the waning of the night

I wait to wake under warm daylight

Cradle to Grave...

Cradle to Grave

When the bloom of life

in conjunction with loves' might 

resides within its motherly shelter

waiting to become son or daughter

a tiny heart begins to beat

and urges life to grow beneath

Soon, the darkness goes away

and life's surrounding light comes to stay

pleasurable senses becomes everything

wrapped in mothers attentive feeding

love exists morning till night

the new world is a delight

Then, youths' fever arrives with the season

as Springtime seeks soulful affection

the discovery of earthly passion
Wrapped in soft flesh apparition

lingering in deep brown flashing eyes

smile wantonly beneath bright skies

as love whispers wonderful things

and carry moments on soaring wings

Summers pass as well as Winters

and life strains the heart ever harder

dreams become distant reality

they mock the pursuit of imagined destiny

The splendor of living holds together the heart

as years pass in existential fright

that surrounds survival in times ever dim

buffeted by societies cold wind

Time rolls through the years in swiftness

it travels in concealed tenderness

as expiration arrives dressed in silver hair

and we deny all through our tears

The slowly setting sun sinks in the West

the journey now needs a rest

The beating heart fades into darkness

it beats no more to support life's quest

Winter Coat...

Winter Coat

Every man needs a good winter coat

when winters' winds bring Arctic cold

Mine was passed down to me

with love and sincerity 

by a man I hardly knew

whose daughter in love I grew

That fine coat in its altered state

occupies in my closet a special place

'Tis a precious reminder

of a man and father

whom I knew in my younger days

that have quickly rolled away

'Tis much more than black cashmere

finely tailored and stitched with care

that belonged to one who died too soon

still it warms me under a cold January moon

'Tis a reminder of times long ago

when youth served me so

When I strolled casually as warm as could be

on sidewalks of Quebec city

and in times not fit for man or beast

was comforted by this overcoat on Montreal streets

'Twas a winter coat worn with pride

during Midnight Mass with family at my side

'Twas also worn on somber occasions 

at funerals when cold was in season

All in all, that timeless cashmere overcoat

that's now two scores old

still brings to mind precious moments spent

during my life and special events

REGRET...revision #2

Regret

Regret is not a bird

although its song is often heard

in the swamps of human desire

where frail dreams are left to expire

When glowing regret feathers in spirit rush
with wishful glory once a must

'tis time that has torn existence bare

as remaining days are devoid of care

Moments are filled with wishes hidden in grief

carried away on wings of time the thief

Regrets in vain keep emotions winging

as pangs of need never cease returning

while visions of dreams creeping

 stir the spirit into unsleeping

Regret is a feathered ghost in silent wings

that wafts in minds of those wanting everything

regret slowly invades searching souls

but contentment in flight is joy to behold

Wisdom Transfer...

Wisdom Transfer

Why be silent

with unspoken comments

for we have tasted youth

and devoured its sweet fruit

Why deny our past

lurking in that half-full glass

that contains pleasures done

all in glorious fun

We loved between heart beats

while dancing on restless feet

and recall again and again

cherished moments during life spent

Why not share the light

that still shines somewhat bright

within our mortal nature

that shelters countless treasure

Why restrain our aging mind

from recalling events left behind

 while hostage to life's decline

Hidden from generations in their prime

Let our history lessons and merits

fill youths fresh spirits

in the hope that past mistakes 

will never again take place

Faux Emperor 45

Faux Emperor 45

Our chosen Emperor is brain dead

his exposed veracity buck naked

and while he reigns in flaming fantasy

the cost is our National identity

His gleaming eyes full of unfinished thoughts

linger in reality sadly lost

as the Nation suffers his witless words

in the darkness of fake news heard

He squanders the priceless jewels of truth

while acting like a buffoon 

and spouts ill-conceived flowery lies

blaming a witch hunt as truth slowly dies

Facts are conveniently irrelevant

as he secrets business documents

his West wing apostles live in regret

and quickly depart from the daily unrest

He rules with a corrupt soul

and sullies the Nations' hope

So, before lasting darkness devours us

his IMPEACHMENT is a must

Stone Cold Dead...revision # 2

LA TOMBA

Cold marble gleams and flashes

as a new days' sun rises

while spirits sheltered within cold stone

are consigned to the darkness they own

The shadows that grow besides headstones

mark the movement of time flown

and heartaches that cut to the bone

are deeply chiseled into granite cold

These spirit resident frozen in time ever so

seldom understand where to go

as they occupy musty dark vaults

in silence and stillness without thought

They lay there frozen and alone

their earthy light too soon gone

their Seasons have stopped recurring

and only their memories keep them returning

Carrera angels sporting wings and breasts

guard desolate grounds in their quest

to protect crypts wrapped in silence

that shelter spirits in residence

In Summer, visitors finally arrive

they bring with them happiness in disguise

to share with souls in marble cold

memories buried in grounds of old

This marbled scape in late afternoon

harbors specters in translucent white bloom

who float on warm breezes

as they relive their life with ease

Their vaporous substance like shapeless thoughts 

eventually fades from our reality and is lost

'Tis only then that souls frozen in time

find somewhere to go and that's just fine

Don ' Poppy ' Cherry...

Don 'Poppy' Cherry

When the light of valor is shattered

when remembrance is mindlessly scattered

the glow of hope becomes cold dead

the warmth of Freedoms value is shed

" You people, much welcomed immigrants

you need to show respect for our Veterans

Spend a few dollars of your money

while you savor Canadas' milk and honey..."

" Take note of soldiers who perished

to give you the life you now cherish

with personal freedom in which to flourish

while living in a country that gives and nourishes

your every hope and dream

in a setting of self-esteem..."

Purchase a POPPY and wear it with reverence

to acknowledge Veterans who fought

especially those who gave their all 

for FREEDOM SELFLESSLY BOUGHT

WHATIF....Revision #2

Whatif

What if rain feeds my inspiration

like colorful teardrops dripping with imagination

leaking into joyful words residing in mind

during my lifetime that slowly unwinds

What if I cherish the duration of those hours

on grey days filled with rain showers

when I feel the soulful impulse

to apply my quill to prose I love

What if my backwards look in time

spent in earliest youth clearly finds

the presence of lingering growing pains

that my personality refuses to claim

What if moments spent in idle cogitation

bloom into mind flowers without hesitation

like the invisible beauty of individual bliss

that supports my life like this

What if my curious wondering

reaches the depth of personal feelings

while the scent of brain roses

soothes all souls that need repose

What if in my cerebral mansion
filled with blooming joy for creation
I light up the earth spanning oceans
to gather praise and devotion

What if my poems haunt private scenes
putting wounded hearts at ease
while they flow like blood in societies veins
and mark bloody redemption selfishly claimed

WHAT IF...WHAT IF...WHAT IF

LEAF....revision #2

Leaf

When leaf shadows from tall maples

dance across my face in silent prayer

eager to declare Seasonal desires

to partake in life's renewal

I cherish their fresh found greenery

newborn and full of life instilled

that exude promise of moments filled

with refreshing shade awaiting me

So, beneath their stately canopy I endure

absorb the fragrance of Spring breezes

and relax with the sound of fidgeting leaves

that partake in my retirement leisure

I thank them for cool shade

I thank them for the oxygen they make

I thank them for their Autumn color

I thank them for providing shelter

Later, when they have fulfilled their destiny

I rake the remnants of their lives

and gratefully thank them for soothing my sight

Winds and Fire....

Winds and Fire

Sunlight beaming above the hills

cannot pierce the smoky haze

that mingles with red glows hardly still

to dance with pointed flames eager to raze

the plant life and priceless homesteads

in the path of wind blown hellfire

while the Golden state turns red

and again becomes the recipient of disaster

This land priceless to select few

living in fortunate comfort and bliss

becomes ravaged and consumed anew

by flaming ridges and embers on rooftops kissed

Santa Anna gusts have fired hillside brush

residents are roused by glances of smoky flames

they gather their possessions in a rush

care not a bit about their fame
They just hope to see the morning shine
view golden skies become fair
feel the glow of Western clime
and gratefully breathe clean fresh air

EVICTED...Revision #3

Evicted

I abandon this body that shelters me

and proceed into dark infinity

I acknowledge the Creator of my soul

That is ablaze in the dark cold

While alive in wretched circumstances

I have not complained about physical changes

My spirit is subdued but unbowed

as it moves swiftly in darkness bound

I understand that beyond this place

hope exists in a soulful state

I feel the rush of fleeting time

and remain unafraid while feeling fine

It really does not matter

where lies my future shelter

for I am the architect of my fate

the pilot of my soul travelling to Heavens gate

Lifes Razor...

Life's Razor

Time slices like a razor

time grants no favors

time cuts down all lifespan

time limits the reign of every man

When fortune and power is gained

riding high on life's glorious stage

time limited for each generation

hangs over wealth and golden opinions

Privilege that lives among its peers

resides in youth without a care

and when the razor cuts deep the years

eyes sting and flow with tears

Time breeds razor fears

of a reality that never wears

but we still pursue tomorrow without luck

as time promises a thousand cuts

Baltimore Strip...

Baltimore Strip

Flesh flushed in stage light glow

with adoring fans gathered below

She's a fantasy of the imagination

posing and stirring their passion

A vision of desired bliss

That appears distant as a wishful kiss

Her sweetness mixed with untouchable purity

hide her real life hidden in obscurity

She moves like an untamed stream

gushing promise of nakedness to be seen

perfumed air wafts over the crowd

as she moves her body gracefully endowed

Her gyrations under the bright lights

captures grateful patrons sight

silver tassels shine on her breasts

as she discards her white prom dress

Her long red hair and flawless skin

move to the  rhythm of BB King

and her long legs atop silver stilettos 

draw attention from her blue eyed glow

She sports a smile distantly welcoming

for those below silently staring

as she moves with graceful swiftness

giving their eyes no time to rest

Then, in a swivel of silver tasseled twists

wrapped in stage floor foggy mist

she disappears like a magic kiss

having dispensed the nights heavenly bliss

Mountain High / Valley Low

Mountain High / Valley Low

On the broad sweep of rising earth

his boots mingle with the loamy dirt

he strolls across the open field

holds his cap much like a shield

allows sunlight to warm his hair

and pauses to drink of beauty there

Warm grass scent floats on the breeze

a precious moment crafted by senses keen

There is no urgency in this place

no tortured path to trace

only drumbeats in his veins

as his body reacts to imposed pain

The mountain winds carry faraway sounds

his ears and mind roll them around

'Tis church bells muffled by meadow grass

a mournful sound lost in the past

He accepts life experiences from years afar

some hurtful memories for what they are

he understands his path from where it flows

as it is the lump in his pillow

Nightly reveries consumed by mindful fire

seek some peace of mind with fervent desire

his existence cycles during life's great show

between mountain high and valley low

Lakeshore Life...

Lakeshore Life

Pink pastels reflect and scatter 

on a liquid mirror filled with color

sails flutter in the gentle breeze

as dawn peeks through the leafless trees

Whilst her neighbors sleep

grateful eyes focus on waters deep

Todays new life is a welcomed scene

as waves advance and time creeps

She allows her awakening to rule her joy

consumes shadows cast on the nearby shore

absorbs the melody of crystal rolls crashing

and accepts the comfort of todays morning

Her spirit floats on lakeshore foam

it soars above her cottage home

she surrenders to life freshly new

and cherishes the lakeshore view

White Pine Gold...

White Pine Gold

'Twas the way my old pine trees

shook their needles down on me

that gold remnants of Summers bliss

announced Autumns cruel kiss

Then, in the midst of long shadows

that gently raked nearby meadows

cold breezes ruffled long grasses

breathing life into sculptured patches

Now, with rake in hand ever ready

beneath the days faint glow holding steady

I sport a Seasonal frown

while showered by needles raining down

Afternoon shadows blanket piles of gold

as scented pine in smoky haze curl and fold

scattered by balmy tides of flowing wind

while daylight retreats and grows dim

I linger by the piney fire

and behold flaming butterflies rise and wander

Up, up and away they burn in flight

only to return as ash in the night

The fire dies slowly and darkness follows

only piney smoke remains in Autumns window

Wasted Time...

Wasted Time

At night I surf glassy swells

beneath black skies in dreamful fun

my spirit wanders where youth has been

where cactus bloomed under moonlight sun

During daylight I beg with outstretched hands

and beseech the gift of time

as surrounding youth don't understand

the extent of their vigorous prime

'Tis their awareness I wish to find

as moments squandered in the wind

hang heavy on my mind

and become a mournful thing

Thoughts on virgin pages flow

sentences somewhat incomplete

drip with the desire to show

that life happens and leaves

Memories course in fields of yesterday

they leave imprints of fading promise

as efforts to decorate poetry my way

stand out but declare little progress

Time is reduced to scribbled haze

with gross caricatures representing beauty

they provide pleasure during my days

as time spent continues in failed poetry

The great deniers of passing time

surely mistake the sound of clocks ticking

for the promise of eternal life

while wrapped in rewards for fruitless wandering

In the end, nothing can retrieve spent hours

or revive crushed blossoms underfoot 

as remaining moments hardly ours

cannot replace the wasted time we took

Etoile Filante...revision #2

ETOILE FILANTE

Lumiere d'etoile. star bright

you obliterate the darkness of night

cast your glowing fire on my sight

and bring to my spirit earthly delight

The fresh evening breeze parts my hair

as random thoughts meander in mind

Clear skies and northern air

amplify a unique heavenly sight

Streaking fire descending at breakneck speed

follows its mandated course

while casting no shadows indeed

as it relinquishes its life force

Visions of extinction float in my eyes 

and capture this glowing descent

as leaves trash about and fly

during this astounding instant

The partly obscured silver-yellow blur

is quickly spent in its death flash

that announces the finality that must occur

as cold matter becomes grey ash

Wilderness...

Wilderness

When wilderness swallowed me

in her verdant web beneath tall trees

that rose above a crashing sea

I became the object of her devotion

and under poplars received her attention 

while wrapped in shadows there common

She consumed my essence partly shaded

while I stood there somewhat jaded

absorbing her wild disposition unsatiated

With a quickening pulse drumming in mind

and her loving ways soft and kind

I satisfied desires I'd hope to find

My pleasure peaked as her spell surged

with muffled moans barely heard

that drifted over the ocean surf

So, under Summers sun on shaded hill

wilderness surely fullfilled 

my dream as time stood still

Now, I recall in jest

that her name wasn't really wilderness

However, she was definitely the best

Unspoken Words...

Unspoken Words

'Tis when the night is still

that notions in mind at rest

guide my restless quill

over naked whiteness best

Ghostly impressions create fine traces

that infiltrate my precious timelessness

scribbled in virgin untouched spaces

that justify my cherished aliveness

My prose lives with the awareness

that it resides in deep insecurity

hindering the release of visionary brightness

that lurks in the soul of me

'Tis during heightened consciousness

when reality lingers behind a shield

that my words repressed more or less

need to be scattered in open fields

Released to sprout into offerings

 that pleases the ear when heard

that sit on tongues as comforting things

alive in thoughts freely offered

Alas, my words dissolve under the spotlight

they dissipate like wispy fog broken

only to disappear into the cold dark night

leaving me to wish they were spoken

Time Exhumed...

Time Exhumed

There's a shallow grave in the woods

where time sleeps as it should

beneath a carpet of decaying leaves

quietly hiding memorable scenes

Times of youthful maidens beckoning glances

and evenings full of laughter and dances

but time like a fading morning dream

should escape into sunlight brightly streamed

Time freed to quietly saunter away

smiling radiantly while remembering yesterday

Exhumed time that will perish when unsung

unless carried on the spoken tongue

Time to be whispered as actions past

fully unburied moments that should last

colorfully painted in our memory garden

vibrant and alive before being forgotten

So, let unearthed time glow like a ray

that warms our present during its stay

VIEdeREVE...( dreamlife )

Viedereve

'Tis when the orange orb

sinks slowly beyond the West

into the sea absorbed

that slumber grants our eyes a rest

Our consciousness leaves us as well

as we enter a realm of waveless tides

slowly rising on glassy swells

to carry our essence far and wide

We travel unfettered by time

hear echoes of words never spoken

conjure vivid scenes sublime

and linger in dreams begotten

We embrace the depth that conceals our reality

under the shimmering light above

as light sabers pierce our identity

and lead us into fanciful love

The creativity of our unconscious mind

concocts savoury midnight visions

that occupy the void it finds

with pleasures of innocent fabrication

Our slumbering trek becomes a pleasure

and pleasure illuminated in dreams

refreshes our spirit in full measure

before morning banishes our dreams ever so sweet 

REFLECTIONS...

Reflections

Mirror, mirror on the wall

grant true reflections to us all

I stare into the looking glass

with humility on my face

as reflections settle in my eyes

confirming the substance of my gaze

When facing a concave mirror

I appear short and squat

as my eyes blink and labour

to accept the reality of that

When facing a convex mirror

I become tall and skinny

I find this sight much better

but won't accept that view of me

Then, I stand between two ordinary mirrors

that sandwitch the substance of me

as my reflection propagates forever

and I see infinite reality

'Tis me over and over

flawlessly reproduced, never better

reduced to pixels growing smaller

that eventually vanish inside dark matter

My reflection solemn and serene

is alive in disembodied copies perfectly alike

that occupy the infinite depth seen

while my substance has no end in sight

The Last Supper...Revision #2

The Last Supper

'Twas a voice like an comforting pulse

that spread gladness upon us

who had gathered there to dine

and savor sweet communion wine

 We listened to presented thoughts in stifling silence

words rose to conscious level and enhanced

the barren shores of our vision stream

words marooned there in exile it seems

They floated on spiritual pools deeply calm

 they filled the solitude of our shrine

and exposed those unspoken desires

that surfaced at the midnight hour

This dream world strangely remote

took shape within cold grey stone

and existed in prayers loudly sung

in hope of obtaining redemption for forbidden fun

Incense filled air and organ music

crammed our souls with blissful bits

as altar boys guessed not their fate

while serving the providers of pearly gates

'Tis within this communion of holy men

pedophiles hidden among them

that participation in the last supper

is held in a crumbling church structure

Past sins float to the surface
like so much hidden garbage
and nothing will stop the stench from destroying 
the faith of those that the Church claims to be helping