Best Stilled Poems
Frost-charred, an Ash limb
casts its arm above a creek.
A soundless water ripples beneath,
all untouched by light or shade -
a stillness etched into
a reverie of motion.
Snow hangs in the air
undisturbed by any breath,
if a twig is snapped now,
it might break the sky.
I have a pebble in my hand,
I could throw it, cast a counter-spell,
to shatter the moment,
Instead, I hold the stone tight,
as if it were a deathless diamond.
Abandoned places,where
perhaps memories linger,
with wisps of wafting moments,
aware, somehow, even of the now,
Though long forgotten by all others,
One wonders why, and surely how,
Such strong vibrations of the past,
Seem to time, to have taken a bow...
Gutted building, windows broken,
Creaking, leaking floor,
Last stepped on by the living,
So many, many years before...
Where lives were lived, and
deaths have come in their way,
To others, in a time gone by,
Who here saw their last sad day,
Tears were cried,hearts
were smashed,
Love withered, its flame
reduced to ash...
Is this a mysterious black hole of time??
A singularity, of now and here...
Where time is not so limpid...
And death is always near,
And fear can swim in the unknown,
The fear of time's mysterious cloud...
As ticks, as tocks, somehow go forever by,
so mysteriously, and seemingly, oh so loud...
What was the last calendar's year hung?
The last phone call received,
And who had been the one rung??
Ghost House,
Ghost House,
Scary, time
abandoned place,
Secure in forgotten
nothingness,
And with time,
you've lost the race.
Most cherished of thoughts, ideas abloom,
spreading, expanding
Overcoming harsh crushing repression,
breaking loose into a fluffy
sacred cloud bound emancipation
Liberation! My spirit takes flight, light,
mellow, blithe and callow
No longer crushed prostrate
'neath the crushing tyranny of the basis gossip
I inhale an atmosphere crisp and fresh,
bounding upward, deep into the wide blue yonder
Grace most astounding ecstatic!
Voices mocking, condemning now stilled-upward
I soar toward a far more welcoming place than
I have ever known
Rejoice!
To ease the damage from love’s withdraw
Here’s a remedy I learned from Pa:
Use alcohol as your wrecking ball
10/9/11
---------------------------------
sun caught in stained glass
goldfish glimmer through stilled waves
of brittle dark blue
---------------------------------
Silhouette framed by the outstretched window
The calling of unbarred freedom
Bare feet pressed against the cooling sill
Heels lift at the beckoning breeze
Chin skyward at the hope filled reddening heavens
A mind lost
A soul stolen
Delusory confidence laced appealment to soar
Compelled by a
Momentary
Greater authority
Fingertips let go
The leap of manic faith
The fall to pieces unrealized forever
increments of time
lorn on fate's hands
lie motionless
as if frozen
like one drop
of winter's rain
on the edge
of an icicle
restrained
time's shadow eclipsed
still life embalmed in fluid
evening is morn
I strut beneath incandescent
clouds of red- puffed weaves
sown with heaven's thimble,
where I am deigned to
stand still by the experience
of such natural beauty,
well endowed on this lone street-way.
A stream stilled
A path to paradise
where
the willow grows
Form:
How to wash dark breaths of the past
Bearing words that resembles a poem
That has lost its color. Overcast by a memory
Silence forms disturbing images
And offers you reason to believe they all belong to you.
The secret is how to shape the surprise
And deliver it to the inhaled breath,the reading ears
Of the reader translated from the silence
Of this other 'self.' You bring forth new verse
Being careful not give away its meaning....
one moment
seems eternal
in your absence
Incomplete metamorphosis of this stilled adolescent...
petrified, sheltered, and mortally wounded prepubescent
I consider myself
analogously buttressed, cocooned,
garrisoned, hardened, insulated,
where cell baited jumping frog
o' Montgomery County ne'er
went leaving larvae stage,
now no divine providential
power can assuage,
yours truly metaphorically locked
within invisible iron bound cage
every occasion to shower
validates steep wage
permanently doled out,
yet tis futile to rage
against this human machine
i.e. body dielectric rampage
clocking three scored
orbitz chronological gauge
forever fixed feigned fodder,
when unlived uber story
of mein kampf writ faint
chicken scratch final page
gin hated anorexic
regressive toddling cribbage
deadly game of mine Life pampered
post infancy attended
Aladdin (a lad in) his hermitage
late childhood marriage
with grim reaper as
coefficient co-inhabitant
feasting emaciated lovely bones
verily scrawny, puny, and
nerdy, yea easy to lyft
courtesy lost livingsocial scrimmage
trademark spindleshanks -
stagnant embarrassingly useless
two legged equipage
at childhood's end...,
me skinny package then
weighing, eh no
more'n half dozen stone,
these days when
undressing to wash
forced to espy physical
*****sapiens wreckage
constant visual reminder
this spare rankled, stunted,
tendered ship of state,
yours truly nah oh sage
enlightenment gleaned i.e.
20/20 hindsight kickstarted
quickened, leveraged, mortgaged...,
principly unbalanced worthiness
anatomical disparity
impossible mission to salvage
accounting rent permanently askew
fixed APR rendered
amortization sabotage
irreversible penalty suffrage
escaping serfdom volunteering
self as webbed vassalage
til death do me part.
After soliloquizing
In darkness
We struck a resounding chord
Making rhythms
As we march into the light
Now we come
But not to you
To plead for justice
Not to you
To stay your fastened arm
But to face you
And voice it home
That our hope is not dead.
Form:
Mein Das-Stilled Vintage Spirits Score-Hitched...
From Bottled Up Rage
Daily app pair rent
revelation, observation, and
intimation invariably concludes,
this aging baby
boomer (albeit youthful)
inescapably lock up
(until death me part)
inside complex edifice
re: guarding self made trap
rocketing into orbitz
of mine twilight years thrusts,
upon this pop (sic) crack
kill forcibly to snap
attention back into
the present, yet unable
to shake off feeling dismayed,
viz hit ting head
with bleak recap
cha regular basis finds me
reassessing, reliving,
and reviewing
psychologically pock
marked scarred
psyche indelibly mapped
e'er since this narrator hapt
tubby a little boy at
tender preschool age
his esprit de corp
joie de vivre analogous
to a rat locked
in an undersize invisible cage
devoid of emotional, physical,
and spiritual equipage
with 20/20 hindsight, I attest,
he seemed bereft
of empathy gauge
as attested by donning
slovenly swiftly tailored,
unkempt harried styled
appearance, a foiled image
that any stranger, family
member, or classmate
could discern, sans
intuitive knowledge
Hawaii didst poorly manage
thyself and island
did self smoldering
wool worth deadly sabotage!