Reclaim your Pony
Your handsome paint pony
Ride without fear
Across the Jericho Plains
The stones may fall
The city surrender
Yet the windswept desert
Beckons you away
The northwind lurks
The sudden silence
Screams like a panther
You are untouched
By time and place
By love's own heartbeat
your pretty paint pony
Neighs to the moon
Sunday, February 24, 2008
To Fluff
Come back ancient Egyptian God
To the abandoned windowsill
Scream your masculinity
To the darkening sky
Your ladies of leisure
Prowl the forest floor
Leaves crackle beneath their feet
The sound of your name
Drifts
Through murmuring pines
Where do you lie?
Who sang your death song?
Or did you discover
Another windowsill
Another Lady
Another thread of life
Within the great circle
To the abandoned windowsill
Scream your masculinity
To the darkening sky
Your ladies of leisure
Prowl the forest floor
Leaves crackle beneath their feet
The sound of your name
Drifts
Through murmuring pines
Where do you lie?
Who sang your death song?
Or did you discover
Another windowsill
Another Lady
Another thread of life
Within the great circle
The Little Boy That Lived Down The Lane
Gone the adventures of Little Bear, and Dr. Seuss
Gone with Old Mother Hubbard, and Mother Goose
Gone the question "Who has seen the Wind?"
There is no one left to wonder, or ask it again
Gone is the road that led to St. Ives
Alice in Wonderland, the Cheshire's Cat's smile
All that lingers is the sound of the rain
For gone is The Little Boy that lived in the lane
Gone are Pooh, and Piglet, and Kanga, and Roo
Little Tommy Tucker,Little Boy Blue
No Cat and the fiddle? God what a shame
Gone the Little Boy that lived down the lane
Like the Outlaw, Being crazy is all that keeps me sane
When it comes to the Little Boy that lived down the lane
(For Michael and the memory of his wonderful childhood which didn't last nearly long enough. Your best is yet to come.)
Wednesday, January 23, 2008
The Playground
Where is the playground?
The playground of years ago
The fat water tower
Naked in the light of a blood moon
The sudden thunderstorm
Hurling itself like Comanche Warriors
Through the black velvet night
Where is the playground?
The dusty backroad
Winding through the Mississippi darkness
Quick spring rain
Carressing the skin of naked lovers
The owl seeking his prey
Where is the playground?
Dreams lost, lying as bleached bones
Visions forgotten in dusty corners
Passionate innocence consumed by fire
Reckless hearts entangled
Where is the playground?
Arise! we shall be reborn
We shall revisit our dreams
Recover our visions
Reconquer our hearts
I have answered my own question
I see the playground
The playground of years ago
The fat water tower
Naked in the light of a blood moon
The sudden thunderstorm
Hurling itself like Comanche Warriors
Through the black velvet night
Where is the playground?
The dusty backroad
Winding through the Mississippi darkness
Quick spring rain
Carressing the skin of naked lovers
The owl seeking his prey
Where is the playground?
Dreams lost, lying as bleached bones
Visions forgotten in dusty corners
Passionate innocence consumed by fire
Reckless hearts entangled
Where is the playground?
Arise! we shall be reborn
We shall revisit our dreams
Recover our visions
Reconquer our hearts
I have answered my own question
I see the playground
Labels:
blood moon,
darkness,
mississippi,
playground,
poetry
Remembering Mariah, 1991-1999
Winter Dreaming
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