Sunday, December 4, 2016

Playing with some old ideas

The Patriarch, hands steadily ticking forward
Does not cease his timeless fated slumber
In that deepest garden, remnant of Earth above

Nameless patient mist lays thick on Asphodelus
Frigid mythic soil touch'd, setting with the sun,
Maiden foot with gracefulness divine.

Her contract to fulfill, she bides
Among blossoms phantasmal
Endless tide of sea and sky and sun

A realm renowned, oft sought
By noble souls impassioned
Resting place for those who Time has called

Poems from October/November

O Spark
at times I loathe thee
who brings me from comfort uncaring
to press on through bitter circumstance

When Death I walked beside
and parted ways at the gate
I could not go with him
for in my home the spark
though often doused, still yearned
to blaze unbridled beacon bright
to shed light on forgotten shores

___________________________________________________________

Daydream ambitions
on mulberry streets
summered away
in strawberries sweet
her ginger haired sunlight
freckled in starlight

my juniper moonlight
my wait for you all night
my tulip blossoming in June

________________________________________________


Through the veil
I almost could have touched you,
We were so familiar.
If I had only been around
If I had been a better me
I would still know you

Mountain mist,
Cold in my lungs.
You are present in my thoughts,
While life goes on without you,
Pretending you were not the centerpoint
Around which life revolved,

As if life did not concern you.
Perhaps it never did.
In the end I stand in misty memory
Straining to recall your face.

Sunday, October 9, 2016

Another old poem

07 November 2011
We wonder where our childhood has gone
It's right here
Under our feet
The very land that we fly by
Unheeded
We lived here, we made our castles from these trees.
Why are we so afraid of our imagination?

I once reigned over these hills
Now they are a burden to climb over
What changes, between a child's mind
And this clouded one of mine?
Can I change it?

I'd like to take the things we take for granted here
And take them to places too poor to put in practice
What we learned from our grandfathers
And also what we could learn from them
That a little diversity
Is not a bad thing
And that it takes time to turn
A peach pit into blossoms

I'd like to spread beauty
Everywhere
But for that to happen
The idea of beauty needs to be
Clearly recognized
Universally
No one valued over another


I'd like to change so much
But from the way I live
No one would believe me
Big ideas are hard to get across
To a culture that only whispers
And takes offense
To the thought
Of taking the hand
Of a stranger
Even for stability

Oh, the changes we've seen
I would have loved to be on a whaling ship
And see the magnificent beast extinguished
Not out of cruelty
Or necessity
But for history
For the feeling that, for a productive species,
We can damage so much.
It's a sad world.
at Monday, November 07, 2011

Monday, October 3, 2016

Today's drawing and sketching soundtrack




P.S. This is what the Prisma app did with my drawings- I may put these on a shirt


Saturday, September 17, 2016

From my notebook and some from my heart

Beautiful words
Like a remedy
Appease the hunger for something greater
For a purpose, an escape
The answer to every question
A reason

To understand the life of those transcended
To touch the work, read the musics, but never know the mind

Of those so tortured
Who could paint and write and speak beauty into existence
Despite the tumult within
Their means of expression
Now our prized remnants
Of a storied time through rose colored glasses

It is never said that the true marvel
The deeper meaning of a work
That takes the breath
Is that the message still so clear today
Was carved in an act of expression
By someone who felt too much

Reach

This week is National Suicide Prevention week. As someone on borrowed time, I want the message of hope to reach as far as it can. Please help by donating, volunteering, sharing, and simply being open to help.
For resources please check out-
TWOHA- https://twloha.com/ikeptliving     NAMI- http://www.nami.org            
 Help- http://warmline.org


Reach


Reach
When you are tired
And the waters are rising

When you have tried for so long not to feel
To shut out sadness, fear, and desolation
But found when you were done
That you could not banish emptiness
Reach.

When you have fought for countless years
But still the enemy is at the gates
If you feel you have no hope
And no more fight left to give
As a last testament to who you were
Shout.

And I promise you
There are those of us,
Though our number is sometimes small
That know the sound
Who have voiced the same anguish
And love you enough
To listen

We will take your hand
Though it may be all you can do
To break the surface

We will swim with you
To where the pull is not so strong
We will keep you afloat

So at your last
Please remember to reach.

Thursday, September 15, 2016

Old things with too many words

A Bitter End in the Following Sea
Saturday, October 01, 2011

Pay the ferryman when I die,
For I am inclined to be rowed to depths uncharted.

Out of pure speculation I'm sure we will find,
Many men proved wrong by what lies beyond.


Where does one go, when the mind is gone?
And the eyes are blank, and the face is wan.
But the heart, it still beats, and ties us to the ground.
When we die, and the sever is tied, are we nothing?

What is the reason for dreams of fantasy?
A tantalizing offer of lands that cannot be reached.

Dreams that we deem hallucinations of insanity
May quite well be a map of life beyond reality.

Will the shores on which our dutiful boats lay
When we finally run aground
Lead to our old familiar haunts,
Our childs' play, long forgot?

I went clockwise from the bottom left doodling in the margins, you can tell at which point I got hungry

I doodled in the margins of a blank page and then added a poem to send to my friend.