Best Murk Poems
I tracked along a silver trail
carved out from Earthly dust
by rays persistent in the dark
and midnight wanderlust.
It led me to a bubbling fount
of sulfurous mud and tar;
whereupon I chanced a glimpse
and found a fallen star.
An ancient from celestial realms
ensnared terrestrially
dimly glowing in the murk
I heard it sing to me:
Sojourner of the moonlit way
I sense thy beating heart
I’ve travelled from infinity
now hearken ere you part.
You roam upon this infant orb,
you draw from it thy life,
but I sense greed and evil scorn
and no land void of strife.
I beg you tell me how it came
that creatures such as thee
have found such hatred in thy souls
to punish endlessly.
It’s not so bad, I said out loud
we know of love as well…
as to the fate of mother Earth
I simply can’t foretell.
The ground beneath my weary feet
gave way to empty space
then all around me in the void
I saw the human race.
Starving children, ill and gaunt
were kicked by wing-tipped shoes.
Females ranging every clime
in silence nursed abuse.
In darkness men were plotting war
in light their banners raised
it mattered not which way I looked
some evil met my gaze.
Make it stop, I beg you please!
Why poison thou my mind?
What can I do to stop all this,
is no good left to find?
Sojourner of the moonlit way
I sense thy beating heart
I’ve travelled from infinity
now hearken ere you part.
You roam upon this infant orb,
you draw from it thy life,
and though you’re one of many men
love in thy chest is rife.
You must return to whence you came
you must confer abroad
the goodness that within thee burns
seek first to serve the flawed.
Think on the vast expanse of space
so empty, dark and cold…
and how despite the hopeless cause
star-light you still behold.
So too might thou, if you’ll but try
endure this awful plight
for in the vast expanse of hate
love is thy shining light.
07/16/15
and if my heart is flawed ~
a muse-less manipulator,
it is because
it has known the murk
where nymphaea drift
through green grief
of algae blooms,
yet still m e l t s
in mauve muteness
to feel love’s rhythm
in merciful melancholy,
whilst the air
ripples like fractured light
on a liquid edge
dreaming,
drawing
somewhere
between silence and sacredness,
as mind mimics migrating birds
blissfully bruised
but never broken...
for I am the essence
of an aquatic-blossom ~
soft yet strong ~
patience my pulse
kindness my dignified design,
when coldness finds
its cruel coherence...
O beloved,
feel me
beyond the sighing pond-mists.
I am your mirror
in shallow reflections,
interpreting your
quivering quietness
into unbreakable
laces of light
that float and breathe
as mindfulness
frames the placid pixels
in oil pigments ~
an aura of an artist
can refine to redefine,
where lilies linger
and the water reminisces
its own sun's
luminous f l o w ...
It is the night, in deepest dark, that death foretells
the demon heart in which all lonely feeling dwells.
Yet, in plain sight, our eyes can’t see what life impels,
emotion’s plea, our deepest sorrow love dispels.
Blind are caustic ink filled visions, all light repels,
like charred decisions, ash from crematory tells
a tale where quietus intrepidity sells
the silent impetus toward a life of many hells.
Walled inside this ebon murk, my emotion wells;
beyond they lurk, those who are sane, their tale retells
how life is to live, and the end but brief farewells.
Though my will may bend, it is I that death compels.
02/16/2018
Adrift in this vast,
empty sea. Silent,
save for the beckoning call
of distant gulls,
your only friend. And
the makeshift mast and sail is
uselessly flaccid.
And beneath,
concealed
by the dangling sway,
of muddy-
moss-green ribbons of waving kelp,
is the dark murk
of unknown depths.
Then the wind
panics,
arousing your sail and
it swells into life
and draws you towards home.
I rise when gilded starlight still replete the skies
Never have I beckoned hours of abstruse sleeping
I hear elegiac trills as a lone nightingale cries,
evoking memories that conjure tears of weeping
In halcyon moments before the paling of dawn
I contemplate my sentiments in tranquil solitude
Before the world awakens with an unstifled yawn,
the moon, sun, and I rendezvous; tryst in interlude
When velvet darkness fades to soft aurorean glints,
there, upon the horizon is painted a nuanced murk
Colors of daybreak; a blended mural in pastel tints,
created by a grand Artisan's hand; the Master's work
Life comes at you
through a haze of words
distorted and cloaked
by the grey murk of meaning.
Its shape becomes solid
as it passes through
the last droplets of syllables.
In its flurry
Life knocks you aside
with a whoosh of stuff.
Leaving you stumbling
in its slip stream
wishing
you could spend the day
with poetry.
Please follow this link to see the video that I was able to make for this poem on my way to work-
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KWL0GC0eLtM
* Many years now since this very talented, very HUMAN guy left us … those holes never fill, and he is sorely missed. (This is a form I invented called “Tredicum Plus”. *
~
my brother ...
you caught me off guard -
of all those who struggle like we do
in darkness, with the
hideous demons that lurk
I was sure the victory was yours -
that the knight was astride
his steed, steadied -
armor shining bright in the sun
sword and shield, sharp and enduring ...
but alas, it seems the
devil wants the final
fiendish word …
long did I look to you
for strength ...
a flicker of light to guide
me through the murk -
the fog of pain and error and
fallibility that so often
gathers for those of us who
feel too deeply -
who see sensitivity as
more of a curse than a gift …
you understood that path quite well -
walked it many times
as I have …
you knew the beasts
that scratch at our ankles -
those shadowy minions that seek
to rake us into hell with every
step we take in redemption's course
but your light shined so bright!
you held it high and
proud for so long that I took
it for granted - depended on it …
and now that light is snuffed
the black is all the
more oppressive - all the
more glaringly heavy and deep ...
… and empty …
now the path
is twisted, obscured ...
and without the welcome of
your glowing spirit
it will henceforth be cluttered with
ambiguity and question -
each further step, taken in
hesitation and doubt …
tragedy, pain, sorrow, regret
their names matter not -
they wreak the same horrid havoc
and those ragged, merciless monsters
have claimed you …
aye, the sun will rise a wee bit
colder on the morrow, and life’s flavor
is now tinged with bitterness …
still, you left behind a torch of humble exuberance and vitality
and those of us who know the
treacherous paths of life -
those darkened 'parts unknown' -
will hold it high in your memory
and give the devil all he can handle ...
of your mischievous smile
your twinkling eye
and your fierce, fiery heart …
Rest In Peace, Tony.
The river dragon of crimson streams
Swiftly swimming to bring my end
As I’m standing alone at the silent shore
The beast from this murk suddenly ascends.
Gripping my face in her flawless jaws
The teeth latched efficiently into flesh
Pulling me quickly into the depths
Dragging me into the shallow grave.
Surrounded in filth, drowning in the banks
The apex predator’s grip never relenting
All I can do is break, bleed and decompose
Hoping for some relief in the pending death.
I find some comfort in this prolonged pain,
Because I haven’t felt a thing in ages.
In the fading gleam enveloping the twilight hour,
the frail edge of lives tended to lose mortal definition,
its meaning masked by the murk of futile existence,
the misty minds sought the glow of the rainbow aura.
A thirsty pilgrim in the relentless pursuit of mirage,
travelled tormented in the wilderness of the desert
to the parched precincts of the dried up earthly souls,
searching for the benign gift from behind the cloud.
On garden path paved by precious stones of their faith,
fragrance of blooming blessings wafted in the dusty air,
the unsatiated mortal souls yearned to comprehend
the euphoric perception configuring the bliss illumined.
Sitting outside the door of the temple a hungry man
seemed to have surrendered the rest of his time to fate,
got some food from a stranger coming from nowhere,
his eyes glinted joy in the rays of the sun that rose for him.
March 6, 2021
Through rolling vapor MISTS I spy, a sailing ship at sea,
And think, perhaps, the Captain’s lost, MYSTIFIED as to where he be-
For he had MISSED his plotted course, because he could not see,
And now was lost and AMIDST, with others just like he-
There was no sign of MISTING, leaving the harbor an hour before,
REMISS about the weather, didn't know a MIST was rolling to shore-
MYSTERIOUS murk surrounded his ship, as he looked to find some ground,
And MISTY eyed he did become, when a way home wasn’t found-
“MISSING BOATS in a MYSTICAL FOG", the newspaper headlines read,
And those who'd been 'board the “MYSTIC,” now reported dead-
Thinking about Nevermind!
Skinny dipping soaked in bleach, albino by design
Eyes burning, -Something in the way- future gives a sign
No pacifier needed, when remuneration’s on the line
Keep calm it’s just rehearsal, will sink lower another time
Born too soon, umbilical’s frayed by a toothless bite
Lure instills urge to swim, bypassing baptismal rite
-Come as you are- take a breath, be sure to stay airtight
Nevermind the grunge, it’s less dirty with a soul of white
Zero in on bait, the watermark hides a sell by date
Perhaps-stay away- not much change at going rate
Don’t lose sight of legal tender, it won’t always sate
Take a breather, rest assured, if lungs don’t reinflate
Swimming in circles chasing what is never truly ours
Set in ripples, a reflection of mankind’s weakest hour ?
The dollar breaks, revealing depths we’ve yet to scour
In the murk, no god we trust, just a bill we all empower
Green spray paint splattering is all I see on the wall
It’s not art that I see, it’s vandalism! they scream to all
They can’t or they won’t let themselves imagine what truly is presage
Beautiful and unique and of greater importance, graffiti with a message
Sprayed on the concrete walls, is the vibrant green verdant artwork
Campaigning for humanity and natures creatures,
unshrouding harsh realities covered in murk
Mural’s paint disheveled meanders along itselfs esteem
Yet reliant dearly on a lifeless tree standing dormant unseen
You see it looks sadly leafless, branches dry and its greenery gone
A passerby felt Banksy’s vision left an impression is clear, strong
"d e s t r o y i n g the f o r e s t s, d e s t r o y i n g the g r e e n e r y"
And I feel certain that her words bare truth, it’s in the scenery
I rise when gilded starlight still replete the skies
Never have I beckoned hours of abstruse sleeping
I hear elegiac trills as a lone nightingale cries,
evoking memories that conjure tears of weeping
In halcyon moments before the paling of dawn
I contemplate my sentiments in tranquil solitude
Before the world awakens with an unstifled yawn,
the moon, sun, and I rendezvous; tryst in interlude
When velvet darkness fades to soft aurorean glints,
there, upon the horizon is painted a nuanced murk
Colors of daybreak; a blended mural in pastel tints,
created by a grand Artisan's hand, the Master's work
Dazzling moon in tangerine
Glowing scarlet like warm desire
Azure skies caress the thoughts
While cobalt dreams and crimson
Trees flame to life with lavender
Lilac thrives through a buttery sun
Like lemons laughing through the dawn
Blushing burgundy and cherry smiles
On ruby and sapphire webs of insight
Breathless seas of indigo and cerulean
Emerald pines and forests of jade
With olive and avocado fantasies
Whispering through chocolate hues
Burnt by the coffee sheen of a brunette
Or wash-out blond in the silhouette
Auburn leaves fall from dusky dark trees
Who know fall with its gloom and shadowy
Murk of cream and ashen beige crispness
Lingering on the air in hints of musky, milky
Bleached out rays of soft light, rays of peace
Ginger hopes with carrot shaded prayers
Amber and silver, graying frosts like ice crystals
Soothing away the snowy chill with regal
Bursts of violet and plum praises on the hearts
Of wine dyed visions for the silence of night
Milky white layers of amethyst and navy
Pray for the grace to lighten the heavy grief
Of those who know the shadows and light
Are only there for a while, like royal blue
Soft pink, red, yellow, green and purple
All the colors in the universe conspire to show us
Joy beyond imagining in the hues and shades
Of happiness, kindness, faith and fulfillment
Found inside a kaleidoscope of brilliant aliveness
Love like this is a hymn of God’s quiet power
It is through color, soft or strong, rich or poor
Bold or faint, delicate or robust, wise or foolish
Colors who dance to life on the twinkling starlight
Breath sighs of love into a fire within the spirit
This sense of serenity is alive with tenderness
I always said that when I die,
I would love to return as a butterfly.
One with yellow, velvet dominions,
Fragile and lofty pinions.
I confused freedom of flight,
With a more placid folly of delight.
I fancied a short life of absurdity,
Rather than one of conformity.
Now I cherish longevity,
Grounded within ancient philosophy.
To satisfy the quench of survival,
Claim a primal, self-powered revival.
A fierce passion for more depth,
The precious treasure of breath.
Stamina and vigor from inner domination,
So I value every moment of creation.
Oh! The prehistoric sagacity,
Exempt from conceited desparity.
Replaced with the confidence to lurk,
And love obscurity's dark murk.
And still adore butterfly's romance,
Though not as a victim of happenstance.
Should the winged one wish to not feed her fears,
She can drink from years of crocodile tears.