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Mike Wallentin Poem
Have you seen such a thing?
Heard it, tasted it just the same,
found its rhythm, found its bang.
Only later to figure you forgot the name.
There is no shame in this,
for in between beats and jives
We find the time to mingle, and migrate.
Re-kindle past conversation, take a smoke in cold breeze.
For the music stays constant.
As smiles, and vibrations.
The floor grows slippery with spilt beer,
as my feet lose traction,
but the beat does not halt one step.
They will play on, you best never forget.
Out of sight, out of mind.
Let the music take you, let it calm your inside.
If only tonight, or these few hours,
ease yourself a riff,
with a step to which you find such boogie.
For the music stays constant.
As smiles, and vibrations.
Passing faces seen a few rings prior,
a shake, a stare, a hello.
You know. You know. You know.
And the places we go after,
are nowhere in the frame of my minds fabric.
Too cleared, to be filled by music.
A tick, towards another tock, and the clock hits 12.
Its a new day, the next today.
Where tomorrow, was just that.
But now means yesterday.
The music played, never went away.
I heard the voices, the cries, stomps, and chants.
Freedom, peace.
Charisma makes the heart of it.
Winding down towards encores, and ending sets.
Now when guitars unplayed.
Drums left unbeaten. Words left unsung.
Must not ever forget, the music stays constant.
Copyright © Mike Wallentin | Year Posted 2011
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Details |
Mike Wallentin Poem
Just a free form notion,
A sky mold, hanging high.
Dome around, the heart of town.
Recipes so tasty,
Diners, dives, meals, and high fives.
Alley cats saving 9 lives.
Its the city life.
Bustling night, rustling unlike leaves.
Street lights, Endless streets.
Tonight is spent on the inside,
Natures wall close on the outskirts.
Windows abundant, Spent out on taxi fairs.
I do not mind, I do not care,
we will breath for some city air,
a little longer till we meet Mountains.
Rain, falling down sewer drains.
Subway trains, underground movement.
Meant it to you, stumbling into drunken Sunset.
Reflected window panes,
I will see you through, dodging sidewalk cracks.
Another pub, another run.
Tabs all filled, but we are no where near done.
Climb me to a skyscraper,
city lights scream in the distance.
Synergies mold together in reflection,
putting such lights in motion.
You make me feel alright.
City lights, City life. All night.
Tonight is spent on the inside,
Natures walls, close on the outskirts.
Windows abundant. Broke from taxi fairs.
I do not mind, I do not care.
We will breath for some city air
a little longer till we meet Mountains.
Highway running out of town
we move towards silence,
the certain type of vibration.
Back to Nature, for the 1st time.
I felt just fine, I am yours, and you are mine.
You make me feel alright.
Moon light, True life. All night
Copyright © Mike Wallentin | Year Posted 2011
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Details |
Mike Wallentin Poem
Enter the endless Gallery, but here you are.
With respect, you have achieved in partial
experience, the beauty of this World.
Out of any door, masterpiece.
Complimentary skylines,
from Mountains topped w/ frozen Sunrise.
Wine of the Nature's vineyard.
The clouds display the colors brilliantly.
Hills, rises from the skin, goosebumps in the breeze.
Your hair covers eyes, I brush whats left away.
Deciphering, beauty in you, and today.
We gaze from the place we took our rest.
A broken trunk, toppled ashore.
Anchored to the sand, we grasped hands.
Making three careful steps, we were above the waves.
We sat listening to the chops.
Calm at its finest. Truths, and company.
Campfire cups of tea. Sights of wonder.
I was in such a state of mind, honest comfortability.
The journey had taken us shortest in miles.
Longer in sight, but farthest in mind.
Time now behind us, we left our footsteps, our words.
But memory is something will keep intact.
Rain was not to wash away the feelings.
I would take these forever, without corrosion, certainty not erosion.
They will become weathered, and aged, but not forgotten.
Just as the tunnels we made w/ eye contact
will always hold the same weight.
What form? What shape? Does it matter?
We have it, and its being held.
The howls of wolves in the forests brought me awake.
Hearing the Night, seeing the Moon. Surrounded.
Not only by growing darkness, but pure beauty.
We kept beneath the stars,
as the last bit of honey fell w/ the Sun.
Becoming covered, and hidden behind the range.
Nothing of Nature was Strange, just pure.
Wrapped up and tangled, we made the Night.
For sight was taken, but dream was not shaken
and our tokens of youth, were soothing.
Each day passing, and new feelings moving.
Cycles, circles, revolutions. There and back again.
As the migration wraps for Spring.
Wilderness.
Copyright © Mike Wallentin | Year Posted 2011
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