History and Rice Paddies...

 History and Rice Paddies

He spits into the darkness

and hears echoes of nothingness

Overhead, clouds chase the moon

shredding themselves as they move

He's absorbed in thoughts hardly profound

while flanked by rain-soaked ground

he silently questions this moment of insanity

would it be enshrined in his Nations' history

Thoughts scatter in the warm rain

heavy acrid air mixes with stinging pain

'Tis a bad dream for a useless quest

as he's surely the uninvited guest

The wafting odor of cordite

drifts across the rice paddies all night

knee deep in the stench of the fields

he wears his luck as a personal shield

He longs to journey back home

to where comfort is easily owned

the night draws a crimson curtain

that morning light will reveal for certain

This young man, American born

questions this obvious shit storm

and bleeds for Democratic ideals

that are embodied in Capitalist schemes

He spits dark blood for history

while entwined in a meaning he cannot see

 

 

ABATTOIR...

Abattoir

Thick black smoke rose towards heaven

as reality became a nightmare

they raised their hands in fear begotten

as the massacred littered the ground everywhere

Cruelty measureless to a sane society

became the hate unleashed by HAMAS

on festive youth absorbed in joyful melody

as blood and sorrow stained fields of grass

Mindless killing ended a peaceful gathering hour

as terror inflicted merciless pain

on the innocence of concert goers 

forcing life to vanish from Holy Grail

( from The Merchant of Venice )

" The quality of mercy should not be strained

it falls as the gentle rain from heaven

upon those beneath : it is twice the blessing

it blesses those who give and those that take "

 

The Silent Spark...

The Silent Spark

Memories smolder in many fleshy holds

as silence hides speechless fire

existence is sparked in wandering souls

and becomes slave to former desire

Harsh realities feed the spirit

and reveal a past forgotten

born of fire in the darkest pit

to be conveniently and quietly hidden

Regret feeds the silent embrace

growing in that spark of light

and flourishes during life's daily grace

as time through space quickly flies

Photons stream and light is captured

to our delight while filtering voices

that in velvet quiet seem fractured

and death or survival become choices

Survival contains life's breath

that is born in the silent spark

it chases away thoughts of death

and fills with light places ever dark

THE OBSERVER...

The Observer

On a morning vividly keen

the bounty of my life stood out

high above the horizon of by being

and I rejoiced while strolling about

A cardinal flashed in sunlight red

beware caterpillar on fluttering leaf

as nature makes Lifes' art suddenly dead

in the moments evolving scene

Noticing the suns' golden daggers

I cherished a moment loved most

while they struck the land like holy fire 

as shifting shadows shouted lights approach

Fields bordered by full woods of green

bathed my eyes in welcomed solitude

focused on the whiteness of grazing sheep

that soothed my humanity and attitude

Black winged swallows filled a sky bright

twisting and turning in the invading light

a foreboding of the coming dark of night

a pervasive condition calling for a fight

Sensing the fire in my chest

I chose to persist and welcome time given

to absorb adventures and fulfill quests

and clearly be happy with observing time taken

  

'                                                         

Boreal Pond...

 Boreal Pond

If I had brought skates with me

I certainly would have stopped on that day

 while traveling beneath azure skies

 to hear the crisp sounds of virgin ice

while I skated on that untouched pond

However. the road that led home was calling

even as the moment became an open door

to enjoy the flawless Boreal ice

to glide and sprint on hard water

to taste the fresh air that filled my lungs

while snow crystals glazed my eyes

Time merely let me gaze through the door

and feast my eyes on natures reveal

as I slowed my pace on the way home

I did not stop to relish the moment

I only imagined what it could have been 

The Tunnel Rat...

The Tunnel Rat

Heavy air sweet scented

flung open the portals of time wasted

and bloody visions in mental pictures

appeared to display wars' grey posture

He inhaled deeply this breeze quite fresh

that casually floated on winds' breath

during his travels that spanned

the awesome beauty of his homeland

He enjoyed every moment spent

entwined in memories of past events

he understood social conditions the least

resulting in his journey to the Far East

His travels crossed the Ocean West

a chained Patriot of nebulous quest

a doomed pawn blind to destiny

with others enjoying forced company

Arriving in a land pitted with foul fires

he found carefully strung trip wires

that secured long dark tunnels

needing to be probed and pummeled

HE HAD FOUND HIS DESTINY

Cold steel famished for underground flesh

razor sharp and void of grief for death

eager to slice throats in underground bunkers

while in darkness blood flowed and scattered

Now, memories cannot undo the darkness

that returns always to never rest

like a corpse flower that blooms smelling like death

revealing the horrors that war begets

 

SMILES and SHADOWS...

Smiles and Shadows

When sunlight warms my face

a smile appears and momentarily stays

while my shadow lags behind me

as I wander searching for identity

This is the time of day

before the night goes away

where shadows lurking in the dark

wait for the resurrection of the light

They wake up fully refreshed

and steadily grow towards the West

then, with earthly rotation in motion

become shapeless points with no direction

Like momentary blobs in passing time

they shimmer and dance in the light

the subject of photonic shifting sculptures

forming temporary reality that mindfully endures

This is that moment of the night

where shadows lie buried in smiles

that in darkness seek to be felt

to become joy as life is dealt

Ephemeral shadows in dark places

slowly vanish leaving no traces

as the night captures truth in darkness

and provides smiles with the needed rest

 

Summertime/Summertime...

Summertime / Summertime

The slow-moving ease of Summer 

is where life gets no better 

Natures whispers are heard and understood

while hidden by forest woods

By the sunlit river where light falls

only to split verdant walls

 blue sky's part puffy silver clouds

while color rains on surrounding sod

There is a gentle breeze that lingers

it supports the scent of blooming flowers

as I spend quiet hours by riverside

watching murmuring liquid crystal glide

I feel the slow motion  passing of time

and precious moments invade my mental shrine

song birds sound in the nearby greenery

T'is a soothing presence that hangs over me

This joyful rustic scenery

fills the mind and negates anxiety

while I sit among full-leafed trees

they seem to acknowledge the existence of me

Every breath taken beneath blue skies

supports my essence and calms my insides

during life spent on a long stay

and I grow ever older and gray

My river wanders and rushes

it steadily flows among riverside bushes

while moments pass under yellow light

as life persists in its earthly flight

" Summertime and the living is easy "

Meaning of Purpose...

The meaning of Purpose

 

Seasons that contain life streams

flow swiftly at remarkable speed

within the space that time includes

only to cement pleasures consumed

The consequences of certain decisions

like a fog that creates visual distortions

bring about events fresh and new

to all who search for existential clues

Whispered words ride life's winds

over a landscape that supports nothing

while mortals in suspended silence

seek purpose for earthly existence

Moments like the breeze of a turning page

are noticed and emptied into a vague

collection of events we mindfully own

that are recorded for a purpose unknown

We are survivors of life lived

and we have purpose to freely give

our legacy to those chosen

during our stay before we are forgotten

 

Here and Now...

 Here and Now

Memory is the term we give

to a present we cannot hold

as precious moments do not stand still

while awesome sunsets flash their gold

We exist in the now always

no matter how swiftly it passes

much like dreams we chased away

from roads not taken as time elapses

Memories are what is kept quite handily

within neurons etched in our minds

of times that touched us deeply

during past delights consumed at night

We easily recall memories distant and near

like smells of life suspended in time

that resurrect moments lived somewhere

at the intersection of now and after sight

We cannot restore what has passed

and there is no forgetting tender moments

that are carved in our minds grasp

always available for some daily torment

Emperor Indicted...

Emperor Indicted

 His reality defies objective truth

and his distractions are beyond telling

he sports the image of a fool

buffeted by internet social wind

His insanity siphons off common sense

saps all life from veracity

while pending indictment of his essence

lingers in conflicting lapses of memory

The time of accountability has arrived

as the light of truth shines evermore

and casts shadows on blithe

avenues where none existed before

The brightness of truth evading hurdles

like freshness scattered in the wind

remains and most likely will struggle

to prosecute sumptuary acts of wrongdoing

His cancerous ever-present personality

accompanied by distortions that create chaos

much like a rogue wave ravishing National beauty

must be sequestered under lawful control

Divine Zeitgeber...

 Divine Zeitgeber

HE-SHE-IT

 Owns the arrow of temporal obsession

controls its passage for all mankind

who dwell in the fourth dimension

ensuring reality for the present time

Hesheit holds moments as self-evident

watches them elapse over and over again

while time yearns to be spent

with family and friends

Hesheit sees time pass quite routinely

as grateful recipients hardly watch

while the gift is dispensed generously

with a consistency that's lightning fast

Hesheit manages the time of day

and handles the speed of light

when he dictates ' le temps ' that way

and with efficiency portions its many parts

Moments quickly used rush away

and without fanfare swiftly pass

to all granted hours every day

as they are recorded by mankind's hourglass

HE-SHE-IT

 knows how time and light together fit

as the present is ever so fine

 needs to be parceled like a gift 

for all creatures including mankind

SWIFT the ENCHANTRESS...

SWIFT the ENCHANTRESS

She remembers her innocence

and the torment of awkward memories

existing in dreams of shameful essence

due to naked guilts recorded in diaries

The dangers of pursuing sexual favors

while courage was in doubt

called for her absolute surrender

to pure joy certainty bound to sprout

Living beneath a canopy of stars

with visions of flesh not always white

that spanned the chasm of mind and eye

brought her pleasures hardly right

She summoned a timid smile

during the receding daylight

desiring to yield without a fight

waiting for love caresses that night

She sought moments that would slowly pass

while quivering in forbidden terrain 

her body and soul aching to relax

as loves rewards poured like rain

She rejoiced under heavens twinkling infinity

with the feel of flesh silky rich

her full lips and breasts lifted in womanly beauty

she befit the definition of a horny witch 

NO TIME / EMIT ON

NO TIME / EMIT ON

Limited by the fetters of time 

life flows like sand ever so fine

through an hourglass and falls

too swiftly for one and all

Each golden grain marks moments spent

mostly wasted without our consent

during a journey full of mysteries

like cresting waves on endless seas

Harsh winds bloat our personal sails

gales buffet our curious faces

while we sail to distant ports

seeking pleasures of all sorts

We cruise on mystic seas of blue

beneath star filled skies and purple hues

salty sprays bathe us with reckless decisions

and we fail to understand reason

There is no time to seek shelter

from the tempest in foreign harbors

no time to brace for the deluge looming closer

as we grant foreign Nations certain favors

National morality becomes quickly discarded

while we forget to enjoy what we started

no time for embodied National empathy

no time for individual identity

There's hardly time to advance

no time to savor life's banquet romance

filled with sweet offerings

that present all with material things

 

Crown Jewels...

Crown Jewels

Some poetry is like costume jewelry

penned by the hand of doubt

while others are like pieces of Tiffany

that cast profound visions about   

Precious words selected as flawless stones

are carefully set into a crown of poetry

quite unique and unlike inferior clones

that show no sign of artistic ability

Golden words prompt sweet dreams

that emerge from a sea of anxiety

they sparkle in life's daily stream

fluent with raw undeniable beauty

Those dazzling gems set by design

with value quite priceless

hide in humanities deepest mines

to be shared with societies fervent quests

Prose unique and filled with beauty

that sprout from seeds there found

entombed in the dreary caverns of mortality

become comforting to those above ground

 

Snowflakes

I tossed some snow into the air

on a sunny morning crystal clear 

brisk winds blew it back at me

as countless gems scattered floating free

Quartz-like flakes flashed in sunbeams

and became a blinding rainbow dream

with frosted jewels on hair and face

lasting seconds in their magical state

How marvelous is Winters pride

upon which children gleefully slide

rosy cheeks and diamonds on eyelashes

accompanied by winds that fog over glasses

Precious moments emerging from Heavens blue

define human joy fresh and new

while inhaling frosted Winter revelry

full of pleasures in natures beauty

The seasons works in artistic revelation

falling gently to earthly destination

perfect snowflakes as ephemeral gems

need to be cherished as our temporary friends

TERRE de REVE... ( dreamland ) Revision #3

Terre de Reve

Visions flood my sleepy mind

they flourish in the land of dreams

filled with purple horizons twilight entwined

of ocean swells and crystal streams

They bedazzle while wandering randomly

chasing elusive shadowy borders

as the scenery twists and turns slowly

whilst sunlight illumines cloud layers

Golden honey drips over peaks far away

it sculpts fog-shrouded slopes

that reveals another priceless earthly stay

wrought to revive my slowly fading hopes

My ensconced soul in vessel of flesh

perceives these gifted visions quite clear

as natures offerings in eternal quest

bestows beauty to souls everywhere

Free to stand in fields during Summer gales

free to feel warm rain on naked body

free to saunter in fragrant shaded vales 

where delight lasts only a day

Disembodied voices whisper in the night

calling lustily in my sleepy ears

they open the vault of earthly delight

filled with some regret of youthful fears

Salty tears on drowsy cheeks 

cast tiny rills flowing senselessly

they pause on arrested sleep

as I foster specters that stay

They haunt mind and eyes shut loosely

while the sight of vibrant scenes

lives in a dreamful way

that exists in the land of dreams

Betise de Guerre...

Betise de Guerre

A candle glows in the dark of night

after daylight has silently left

shades are drawn on the todays sights 

sealing out the horror of warring death

Ghostly winds blow through bare branches

as whistling shadows mark their course

rain falls and soaks those in trenches

while it washes the stench from naked corpses

Silent still life covered in red painted hues

present on death masks worn starkly

conceal blood soaked patriotic dues

hiding within the burden they carry

They are the result of human nonsuccess

of discarded kindness and just plain love

that mark the collapse of goodness at best

and combine to end life in fields of mud

During the night, sanity is found

then, is shattered by mornings norm

that still covers bloody ground

to envelop the day in a dark hate storm

RiverWorld.....

RiverWorld

When he found a little world

filled with beauty and colorful birds

down by the river one sunny day

he gladly left his footprints in river clay

He spotted creatures foraging there

while gentle winds coursed through his hair

he discovered stones shaped by nature

that satisfied his mislaid life pleasure

Beneath the azure shy full of light

coursed flowing waters that swelled delight 

flooding his heart with the quest at hand

amplifying mindful joy at his command

His naked feet felt the coolness

as moist clay soothed his loneliness

while the winds whispered softly

Astray on life's pathway quite happily

When he relinquished this river world

and the wondrous song of scarlet birds

he took his renewed soul away

to live and enjoy another day

 

THE FOOTLOCKER...

 The Footlocker

Somewhere, in a footlocker secreted away

where the past is buried to stay

live memories that sometimes prey

on past times of youthful days

Time dilates between night and day

during the season of leafless forests

and memories escape from this hideaway

to refresh archaic mindful wilderness

Photographs of souls long gone

lurk in their dark isolation

isolated from passing time and human warmth

under lock and key, safe from emotions

Their reality contained meaning long ago

when their recall was not so hazy

like flowing sand through moments hollow

that struggle to recall what use to be

Deep down in the dusty footlocker

'Tis where time stops to lingers

to remain forever as mind litter

locked away in darkness safe from danger