Category: Poems

Tides

The ocean driven mad by the moon raises its great arms, many arms capped with foamy fingers at their crest.

They slam upon the shore hoping to holdfast, to inch themselves out, but the clever sand hardens at their touch, denying its grip. With a sad recoil the water flows back in preparation for another chance.

Just as the inches are gained their tether is pulled and flows back again. Its giant swells like growing tantrums. Its impact on the shore is as much anguish as desperation.

A Promethean struggle that possesses as much eternity as the ocean itself.

So much power and yet so much futility.

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Cocooned

When the days blend together

And the nights are all dreamless

When the noon sun seems dim

And the night moon is beamless

 

Life feels like a shroud

Yet still stings like a brand

Days full of turned shoulders

And the swatting of hands

 

Here lies the moment

A catalyst born

These times are for shedding

The old uniforms

 

Beneath the adornment

Life so far has draped

Which now wears as burden

Encumbrancing our nape

 

A lightness, a nudity

Yearning for freedom

The best parts can emerge

Once we’re able to see them

 

Let the walls shatter

The film melt away

And awaken proclaiming

Today is the day

 

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Breakup

I have lost you to mundanity

The thrill you once could bring to me

Now tempered with a ho and hum

Now splintered like a beaten drum

 

Though the sight of you is still sublime

You’ve fallen too far from divine

My passions can’t be kept by you

So alas my darling we are through

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Sentimental Saturday: Mayor Willy Wompett

This poem was written in August of 2016 and originally appeared on my previous blog

Mayor Willy Wompett
Was the head of Wompettburg
But just what is a wompett?
Well it’s really quite absurd

Their head is really large
But their faces really tiny
Their hair is very brittle
But their skin is very shiny

Their body arms and legs
Are sized like normal human portions
But their faces always rest themselves
In rageful scowled contortions

Their hands are quite diminutive
For such a full-sized fellow
And the color of their skin
In a sickly orange-yellow

But Willy was the best of them
At least in his own mind
He saw himself a leader
Who was faithful, smart, and kind

Alas the other wompetts
Told quite a different story
His focus was attention
Celebrity and glory

While he stood above a crowd
He thought his speeches jovial
But the others coined a term
Many said that he was blovial

He’d talk and talk and talk
Never really making sense
Telling wompetts in a scary world
He was their one defense

No one would dare to cross him
He’d know just what to do
And work them to a frenzy
With his trite hullabaloo

Some grew tired of his words
And tired of the terror
Some saw that many things he said
Were rife with blatant error

Those who parted ways with him
Would suffer his disdain
Red faced with disparagement
Some saw him as deranged

The other nearby ‘burgs and ‘villes
Did worry for the wompetts
It couldn’t be a happy life
With a leader who’s so pompous

But the loyal wompetts scoffed at them
And claimed they were misled
But as the speeches prattled on
A different feeling spread

They tired of the hatred
From this tiny minded twit
Exhausted from the idea
That the downtrodden were nits

They knew hard times could happen
To almost anyone
Except the pulpit speaker
No matter what he’d done

Born into a fortune
Empire built on lies
Willy wasn’t like them
He lived off the little guys

He paid his workers peanuts
And dined on caviar
And never once has thanked them
For getting him this far

He made entire fantasies
Seem like they had occurred
Oblivious to the ire
That these stories had incurred

He shamed all those against him
Even those who were respected
And yet when wompetts angered
He found it unexpected

Election time was coming
And so many found him silly
But could they save dear Wompettsburg
From such a giant Willy?

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Rendition

We have all felt the burn

Of the taciturn

Those shadows that frustrate

And haunt us

 

It leaves us to wonder

If there’s meaning left under

The silence

Do they even want us?

 

It leaves us to forage

Or question with courage

To seek the semblance

Of affection

 

Resulting in queries

That leave us so weary

And plagued by enduring

Abjection

 

Yet the source of this menace

Is something within us

The problem our own

Inhibition

 

We must break through our surface

Determine our purpose

And author our truest

Rendition

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Sink or Swim

We have many techniques

To battle the bleak

But sometimes we choose

to submerge

 

There are days when the world

Upon us is hurled

And were pushed to a

Dangerous verge

 

So we let ourselves sink

To lament and to think

Until sleep is averted

by tears

 

And we start a collection

Of our shameful subjections

And open the floodgates

To fear

 

Sometimes we must toil

To keep things at a boil

Instead of it gushing

Upon us

 

But then back we must go

To the treacherous flow

And to seek what is better

to calm us

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Elements of Existence

Drown within the torrent

Allow it now to fill

And once you feel its magnitude

Allow it deeper still

 

Let it incinerate you

And scorch you into ash

Burn out the embedded shame

And emerge now unabashed

 

Dig into the soil

To find that which germinates

Feed it with your spirit

So that it may propagate

 

Float upon the jetstream

But do not fear a different way

And if you’re not one for soaring

Then try at least to sway

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The Golden Days of Yesteryear

I lived outside for hours

When I was just a girl

I’d run or bike or cartwheel

And dizzy myself with whirls

 

I played pretend each night

After singing until hushed

And only ever grownups

Seemed to do things stressed and rushed

 

As time moved ever forward

I slowly lost that ease

I rarely now will play outside

Or risk skinning my knees

 

The days of youth seemed endless

Almost fitting years inside

The golden days of yesteryear

What a bitchin’ ride

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Blight

I can feel each jagged tooth

Sinking slowly in

A warmth that gushes, pools, and drips

And sates the hellish din

 

One thousand voices form its voice

And shriek each sound it makes

And I suppose I am the next

cacophony it takes

 

Its skin so taught against the bone

‘Tis a marvel in its movement

‘Twas at this moment death and daring

Formed something congruent

 

The sword that wore one thousand points

Thrust deeply in its gut

I ripped and tore and bathed in it

Until its eyes were shut

 

So there we lay encompassed by

My final quest toward night

A blasphemy, a hero

And her thousand pointed blight

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Into Life

Cling to me
Sweet scent of you
Please help me to recall

How the feeling of you
Near to me
Means everything and all

How the world was just
a place to be
Until you brought your magic

How before your light
Would shine abroad
I steeped in all things tragic

But breath and balance
Hopes and dreams
Began to grow anew

For existence sprang forth
Into life
When I was gifted you

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