Tag Archive | POETRY

Cracked in Half

AS SPIRITUAL AS I GET

I am nutty, meaty
split in two
half hard hat shell
half kernel of truth

split down a middle
only I can see
wishing nuts wouldn’t fall apart
so easily

wanting to repair the seam
wishing for a cleaner being
begging for a softer shell
finding love the truth to tell

prepared to join together the whole
full attachment, that’s the goal
no more half that, half this
soul unites in coupled bliss

 

Slant of the seasons

DREAMS AND MELANCHOLY

I know how cliched it is to complain about winter. My winter season was fairly mild, weather-wise. I didn’t get stuck in the snow or lose my footing on the ice. My house was warm. No, it wasn’t a physically painful season, nor an especially inconvenient one as winters sometimes are. But for me, it was dark months filled with depression and torture of the psyche. All that I thought I knew about the character and content of my nation was proven wrong. Every optimistic thought, so carefully cultivated through years of self-training, was crushed under a giant weight. This is the weight of loss, the reality of watching one’s homeland turn to cruelty, to indifference, to outright hatred. To a potentially fascist state. All in the time it takes for a season to turn.

The world spins
On lies
Tilts on greed
Revolves on anger
Rotates on control
You can’t stop the mighty sun
From rising over and again
Nor the cruel seasons
From wreaking their havocs

If you think about it
Prayer is just a way
To beg forgiveness
For all the falsehood
The corruption
The violence
Manipulation
Savagery
The hurt inflicted

And the prayers are answered
But only in your head
Because, face it
Who is there to listen?
Who hears the animals d’terre?
But the world is satisfied
Dreams of heaven
That delusion
(If only good people go to heaven
It’s an empty place)

And the orb keeps spinning
The ugly rotations endure
Heaven will wait
The injured accept the slant of the seasons
And the tilt continues round

 

 

Temple Athena

AS SPIRITUAL AS I GET

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Time change
Athens to Rome
Is it one hour, or two?
Ten thousand hours
Or rocket time
How many minutes to wisdom
Eons to Mount Olympus
Seconds of knowing.

Dry olives, thirsty cypress
Hard rock staging cuts into the hillside
Steep incline steps
White dirt dust howls at the Parthenon
Twenty five hundred years of time
And grit is still grit
Parched throats are nothing new.

Wind of the ancients blows today
Acropolis sand, carved from the rock
Gift of the gods
Limestone harvest, marble dust
Wind
Sand
Time
An immortal Greek chorus
Choked with fossil specks of ancient seas
Hair tangled with abrasive sand
Tiny follicle columns eroding
Goddess-sized pillars alike
Losing definition
Fading beauty
(Too much time is not good for stone statues or shiny hair.
Even the gods understand that.)

And flat sandal feet
Slapping the goddess ground
Slap slap leather feet
Finding purchase on the slippery rock
So worn, so weary
This sandstone perch
Higher than the city
Lower than Olympus
Cast in crippled revery.

Temple Athena
Where time is uncertain
Holding secrets of the ages
How many hours till one grows wise?
Is it an hour, or two?
Confused time
Airport time
Bewildered rock
Timeless hill
Forgotten goddess blowing away
Sad beauty
In a minute or two, featureless
Time change, and gone.

 

God Willing

AS SPIRITUAL AS I GET

God willing, Nannie would say
I won’t be here next year
God willing, He’ll take me
I’ll rest
You young people can carry on

Make your messes
Find your faults
Scream
Cry
Shout

Or better yet
Don’t talk at all
Kill each other with silence

I’ve had enough, Nannie would say
God willing, take me now
I’ve seen the so called Promised Land
It’s not for me
You young people can have it

Scramble over each other
Dash for freedom
Run
Flee
Trample

Even better
Block all passages
Let no one through

Slavery
Escape
Wandering
Promise

Fight for a new land
Fight to stay alive
Fight to find happiness
Fight
Fight
Fight

God willing, Nannie would say
By tomorrow I’ll be gone

 

 

Sea Salt Moon

DREAMS AND MELANCHOLY

Sea Salt Moon is dedicated to my brother David, who took his own life so very long ago. I remember him mostly as a child, years before the troubles began…

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My fair lad, with pale gold hair
Slender and strong
Steadfast, faraway philosopher eyes
Look to the skies
Do you see that sea salt moon?
It hangs in the cloudy dusk
It floats right in front of you
It teases you with its fullness
Drawing you to the tides
To the hazy unknown yonder

Look out to sea
To the breakwater
To the dinghy boats
And wave worn yachts
Fishing fleet
And ferry on the distance shore

Keep to the horizon
Those white washed breakers
Wide open Atlantic
A chance to see
All the way to France

Take your turn
Poet, youth, love
Don’t be afraid
There is only today
Circle your strong arms
Around my waist
And hold me
We’ll guard each other
From sand fleas and green head flies
The squawking gulls
Dive bombing for fried clams
And dropped pieces of hot dog buns
Drowning tides

Look to the sea
Smell its promise, its vastness
Its allure
And dream great dreams

I want to go with you
Don’t leave me
On this perch of shore
Where titans meet
Sand and sea and time and weariness
Don’t leave me
To swat away those persistent gnats
To sweep gull droppings
From the gritty silver sand
To clear my lungs of frost cold spray

I want that sea salt moon
Just as much as you

 

 

Gentlemen, beware

MAD RAVINGS

Beware, my friends
We watch you
We study you
We read your words for authenticity
We observe your taste for inflicting violence
We notice your pretending attitudes
We see your covered barbarism
Your guarded sentiment
Your arrogant judgment
Your disrespect
Your falsehood
Your condescension
Your pomposity
Your dislike
Your hate
Your crude objectifying mocking
Your ugly baseness

Gentlemen, make no mistake
We watch
We see
We comprehend.

Melancholy in the Pines

 

DREAMS AND MELANCHOLY

Pomegranates

There is no good reason for my melancholy tonight. It just happens sometimes.

 

Melancholy in the Pines

I miss you
Umbrella pines
Pistachio trees
Green olives hanging
In front of my eyes
And cypress, so tall
And slim and graceful
An Italian dream
And the pomegranate bushes
Heavy with the fruit of Eve
Don’t take a bite
Vesuvius will open up
And swallow you
And keep you silent for eons
For two thousand years or more
And you’ll suffer for it
The gods are harsh
They’ll punish you
For being a strong and independent woman
Who knows her mind
Who wants a bite of that apple
That pomegranate apple
From that tempting tree
I can’t blame you
There is a world of temptation
In the olive branches
In the pines
There is melancholy in the pines

I miss you
Cypress trees
Unripe Greek pistachios
Waiting to burst
Pomegranate promise
Eve