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
Tuesday, January 22, 2008
Winterscape
Thet white velvet
Of winter
Beckons me
As the foothills shiver
I almost remember
The high country snows
Of another lifetime
The frozen river
My dreams
Jagged and keen
Jolt me awake
I inhale the northwind
Retracing
The thin trails
And sharp edges
Of where I have been
I almost choke
Upon the memories
Rebirthing themselves
Linking into a silver chain
I shake and shiver
Reality reveals his dark
And terrible face
I will not go there again
Of winter
Beckons me
As the foothills shiver
I almost remember
The high country snows
Of another lifetime
The frozen river
My dreams
Jagged and keen
Jolt me awake
I inhale the northwind
Retracing
The thin trails
And sharp edges
Of where I have been
I almost choke
Upon the memories
Rebirthing themselves
Linking into a silver chain
I shake and shiver
Reality reveals his dark
And terrible face
I will not go there again
TO L.
You loved the flaming
Gold- of October
But I haunt the snows
Of December
Seeking Mudjekeewis
I cannot lie contented
Within the cozy cabin
Nor lie my head mutely
Upon your breastbone
Somewhere out there
Where the foothills
Meet the winter sky
A coyote seeks his mate
An owl seeks his prey
I seek rebirth
Or salvation
Gold- of October
But I haunt the snows
Of December
Seeking Mudjekeewis
I cannot lie contented
Within the cozy cabin
Nor lie my head mutely
Upon your breastbone
Somewhere out there
Where the foothills
Meet the winter sky
A coyote seeks his mate
An owl seeks his prey
I seek rebirth
Or salvation
Monday, January 21, 2008
Limerick For A High School Classmate
A poem inspired by Lord Byron
Unlike Byron I can still go a roving
Unconcerned as to whether the heart is loving
Or just foolhardy,taking to many chances
A consequence of reading X-rated romances
I have no idea if the moon is bright
Here in this highrise 13 stories high
No swords are involved which is basically good
Otherwise mister, I might spill your blood
I doubt if my heart will outwear my breast
Although this situation is hardly a test
Your lack of passion is pathetic,ironic
Guess I will keep searching for someone Byronic
Unconcerned as to whether the heart is loving
Or just foolhardy,taking to many chances
A consequence of reading X-rated romances
I have no idea if the moon is bright
Here in this highrise 13 stories high
No swords are involved which is basically good
Otherwise mister, I might spill your blood
I doubt if my heart will outwear my breast
Although this situation is hardly a test
Your lack of passion is pathetic,ironic
Guess I will keep searching for someone Byronic
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