Tag: Poetry 2015

  • A Chill and Then, a Poem

    There’s a chill in the air. I sit and I think. I am a bit cold. This is that time of the year. A time for hope, a time for fear. Desolate winter nears, with the hope of renewal once it clears. There’s a chill in the air and I feel it. This is a wondrous time. Yet it is a time that also makes us wonder. Will we live our dreams or will they be torn asunder? Where is the blanket that I will wrap around me, keeping me warm from the storm of existential doubt? This is what I want to shout! There are different types of cold -- the kind related to temperature and the kind relating to habits that have gotten old. Call it a form of spiritual cold. Will a blanket work? Is my search for one merely a quirk? Life is about growth in right measure. We are here to evolve. We are here to be enlightened. We need warmth from the sun of divine truth. A sun we cannot see but a sun we can feel. Surreal? Perhaps, but that is the sun that will help us set our ontological maps.

  • Playground of the Mind; a Poem

    (*Inspired by the painting Señorita Kreativitet by E. Quevedo.) I was swinging from a branch in my mind. Going back and forth. A wild ride. Playground with unlimited space and no space at all. Imagination the only landlord. The mind. A place to be free or enslaved to the habits of bad thought. The mind, a frontier beyond all frontiers. A place that brings us joy. A place that retains our fears. In the sun, running on the beach. Blue sea. Blue skies. Smell of salt air. Funny. Outside it is cold and raining. But, in my mind, something else. And that is our mind. Whether we are in it or out of it. Hmmm, the phrases “out of my mind” or “out of his mind.” Do they even make sense? We are always in our minds. If someone does something apart from the norm, perhaps we should say, “Hey, he’s really in his mind.” Just a thought. Maybe I am thinking too much, as such.

  • You Left Me, But…, a Poem

    You had me dazzled. I wasn’t paying much attention. The flash came. I looked. Drawn to the sun. Pulled to the stars. My feet came off the ground. Silly me. But, but, but, I regained my composure. My feet came down to earth. I walked again and realized I was not flying. Ah, the return of level headedness. What a come down, emotionally. You confused me. I thought I knew but I didn’t, but I thought I did. I think. Or, well, I thought. I think. Whatever. I was unsure and looking back I knew I did not know, though at the time I was sure I did. You made my head spin. I was positive of, hmmm, of nothing. Now, I am sure I knew nothing. I think. You charmed me. Your words, your walk, your ways. You wrapped me in a warm, snug blanket. I fell softly asleep to the melody of your soothing song. I snored. I rested. I was warm and felt safe. You gently stroked my forehead. I was in a magical, mystical dreamland. And then I woke up. Boy did I wake up.

  • Walk It Back

    I remember going to the doctor when I was a kid. Some things stand out, like the doctor saying to me, “Stick out your tongue and say ah.” Going to get checked out for a cold was never something I found unpleasant, but waiting in the waiting room could get boring. However, it was not boring if my favorite magazine was available. In the back of the magazine was a maze. I would be in the waiting room of the doctor’s office so absorbed in doing the maze that when I was called to go in it was hard to get me to put down the magazine. I liked doing mazes. I found them engaging. Some were harder than others. One day, I discovered a shortcut to doing the mazes I found in this magazine. I did them backwards. I have never investigated the reason why, but doing a maze backwards – meaning starting from the finish line and tracing it back to the beginning – was always easier than starting from the beginning.

  • Happy Tidings Song, a Poem

    Sing a sampling of soothing sounds Energy and good will do abound Look for it while and when you can Understand the plan beyond mortal man Cookie cutter solutions are shown One size all methods are overblown Choose a path that’s clear and true Then live and see what you can do We can be positive, if we want to be We can fill our hearts with boundless glee We can be the “we” we want to be We can embrace mankind’s nobility

  • R.I.P. Anne Marie Gill

    I only had the opportunity of meeting Anne Marie Gill on two occasions. Those encounters, brief though they were, gave me an opportunity to experience the natural charisma she exuded. I know Ms. Gill’s family and, in particular, have known her brother Rob for about 20 years. Rob has joined us here, on CYInterview, for some compelling conversations. I could fill up a bunch of space trying to make sense out of the death of a charismatic, 52 year old woman, but that task is beyond me. I could attempt to characterize her life and challenges, but that is better left to those who truly knew her. Instead, I will say that I am happy to have met her and I am sad that she is now gone. My cousin passed a few years back, at 32 years of age. His death expressed, in sharp, painful terms, the fragile and uncertain nature of life. In attempting to come to grips with his passing, I wrote a poem. It was part of my grieving process. I published this poem after he died. I now publish it again, below, in memory of Anne Marie Gill.

  • Hail Fellow Well Met; a Poem

    Hail Fellow Well Met A Writer Sits upon his deck He sits and writes and dreams and thinks While God Almighty Nods and Winks This writer comes from other lands Now, the sands of time are upon his hands His brow furls as he ponders and queries Yet of being a scribe he never wearies Meantime, Naysayers do what they do best They tell him to quit and join the rest To give up his dreams and cast them aside But what drives this writer is more than pride

  • You Can; a Poem

    Time tested. Life bested. Time for another go. Don’t stop. Don’t slow down. Don’t give up the show. Now is the time you have waited for, even if you haven’t been waiting. I know, temporary nonsuccess can most certainly become grating. Never throw in the towel. Never greet life with a scowl. Get on your feet. Do a meet and greet. Be positive and go for your goal. Activity needs to be your fondest proclivity. Talent alone will leave you cold. Be bold. Go forward. Do not look back. Action is the way. That is a fact. Reflection not deflection. Fire in the belly. A desire to do good. Release yourself from the grasp of “should.” Should is not good enough. It does not mean we act. Instead we must do and do again, that is the most powerful fact. Because all success is in the doing, not in simply thinking. Remember, inventors invent by way of their tinkering.

  • To Be and Be Gone; a Poem

    All that’s asked of me is to be and be gone. That’s my song. Come in, go out. Why scream. Why shout. Rhetorical not quizzical. I’m not fooled. I understand the rule. We are out before we’re in. That’s universal time for you. Take it with a grin. Time wasted and we are the author of that. We sit. We watch. We grow fat. And then we lament. Oh how we lament! Then, we plead. We insist that we should be heaven bent. But not too soon. No, please do not make room. At least not yet. Give us our 120 years or more. Yeah, sure. Safe bet. Well, not so much if you live life as such. Change much? Question, not a comment. Change, ah the source of pain and salvation. The source of hope borne of imagination. The way forward having learnt from the way back. And we insist, do it for us Jack. We want better, better than good. We want things the way we think we should. But, do the work? Surely you jest. We’d prefer credit cards; we’ll make the payments. You do the rest. There it is, personal success at our behest.

  • Selfish Fear, Wisdom Dear; a Poem

    I look high into the Sky. Darkness. I look deep into the sea. Darkness. I think of me instead of we. Darkness. I want something at your expense. Darkness. I refuse to see my faults. Darkness. I only see me faults. Darkness. I listen to the birds sing. Joy. I look at the plants in all their glory. Joy. I realize I am part of something bigger. Joy. I give and do not simply take. Joy. I see the smile on your face. Joy. I look to the future while living in the present. Joy. I don’t know when it happened. I couldn’t really say when. I don’t know when you became my friend. Does it matter really when? We can see the stars together. We can lie in fields of green. We can stroll up and down the banks of a never ending stream. We can dream of the unreal. We can live what we believe. But it is up to us. This is not make believe.