In the Bluebird of Happiness
at Klutina Kate's
the rain dances
splatting the metal roof
and dribbling down the windows
Never expected to find comfort
in an old bus
but I sleep well here
Didn't expect to be here
Didn't expect to belong here
Yep, where the northern lights play
it's turning gold
I'll saddle up before it turns white
journey back through the Yukon
and make my way south for
Christmas in Florida
Or Australia
I just wanted to see some caribou
Didn't know I'd make friends
Caribou, moose, bear,
glaciers, tundra, and snow-capped peaks
there have been plenty
but they're not what I'll come back for
On every highway and byway
beauty overwhelms
but it's deep in the heart too
the kind I'd run from
Not anymore
A slow wheel upon
Old byway, country's.
Untried, yet tranquil-making.
Lone-lost, yet what frees.
As far who panted
In that world of fear
One echoing reminder
As can no more hear.
Spring's youthful moon explodes in gold
mingling with tangerine tones of skyline,
That I reflect languid reveries holding me
captive in the glow of a byway...
A portrait of birds, flora in endless variety
weaves through marshy lanes,
As couples mingle with strangers
for light exchanges, closing the finale
of day's rite in enchanting sways :
The movement of kind gestures
beneath glide of clouds stills my heart...
And I am awed by this soft rise of a view
which glimmers in a rhythmic wave
of spontaneity--this gentle blend between
man and nature -- reminding this woman
the reverence within the stillness on a byway.
Lustrously exposed, save the lamp posts;
How inviting...shadows of two
wrapped in pearly silver---
a moving photograph in pastel colors
framing a moment's rendezvous
as dusk filters the pavement
riqht where bodies shimmer undercover :
Trees wave at the moon for traces of bliss
on a byway of sinuous motion,
the silhouettes hazy vet lightly engaged
in malleable outlines when hours
linger to wait for an affair's finale
past the radius of lamp posts ,
the eerie gray from night's paean
seeps the view, collapsing into bloodied glass...
A forlon figure stands alone
...while the tint of intimacy
pours its last glow.
…if you gaze long into an abyss,
the abyss gazes also into you.
~Friedrich Nietzche
You haunt my nights like a beast of prey along
a tangled forest byway beneath a dark
and moonless sky, stars without candescent song
to orchestrate the dawn and ignite the spark,
chasing nightmare shadows into the abyss
of madness with not one day-lit thing amiss ~
as asylum nurses bring the daily dose
of magical pharmakeia from Hypnose.*
*Greek god of sleep
Lamentable, the family gathering
on the other side of sunshine,
with possessions no longer bothering,
sans loving cups, draining of wine.
Great-grands, grands, aunts, uncles, cousins and unborn,
one mom, a nephew, memories
their perspectives (only they carry). Torn,
yellowed pages of treasuries.
Climbing steps, silver dollars, and finger gloves,
savory chicken and dumplings,
boat on the lake, seashells on velvet (these loves)
tricks and treats, some were just ducklings.
Soft hands, warmer heart; silver in corner chair;
the teaser (he died way too young)
To each I lift my thoughts - they are laid bare.
Kindly, ancestors, I’m among.
All, go the byway, to our destination.
What will our progeny recall?
What bouquet of ours sets forth sensation?
Together we’ll be, blessings fall.
Lacrimal vessels are filled - our love, fearsome.
Eyes salty and brightened.
Peace comes after tears, reveling in wisdom.
Capacity to care, heightened.
A Candy Storefront window, a passerby pauses briefly at the array of heart-shaped enwrapped in velvet reds, filled with sweet treats like years before. The same tricks deployed as the byway take point passing a park. Then a heaven-sent gift the gentle walker, drifts a spun floater being a dove's solitaire wing. A hand reaches down and gathers it up in mental discourse. In brevity breathes deeply, and exhales soothingly. Contented, the gentle walker heads back to town, where an empty crimson velour box is bought, he makes one more stop before heading back home with a frozen smile. Amidst the expected backdrop scene where two fluted glasses filled with Dom Perignon Champagne atop a white-silk-covered small round table that graces two silver candle holders, pre-lit. The significant other donning a maroon single-piece nightdress is presented a box. He sits as she opens the box and oddly looks. As he explains his day's escapade freed him from the rigamarole being rhetorical, he lastly gifts her with a smaller box. She opens built-up with a hint of suspense that shreds away to tears. She looks up to the penitent soul while holding a solitaire diamond ring.
chasing the heat haze on the highway
smoking a spliff while "let it roll” plays
praying to feel your touch by Friday
without adding another cross on the byway
I haven’t seen the world
as it is
for a while
but I refuse to close my eyes
and abide
by their lies
as a mother Searches
ashes
for her child
all so some bastard can watch the sea
while it rises
and dies
I hope this half gets me to payday
although It wont take any pain way
I can Stow it away
for another day
While it watches and waits for my minds decay
they left in 1921
but just took there guns
to Jerusalem
still a child throws a stone
& they break bone
to break soul
in the sky zanana’s flown
to kick hope
show control
wains with nowhere to go
forced to roam
with no home
a Folk with no gravestone
left alone
not a rose
In tight and busy parking lots
You can easily get perturbed
Should I back out; take the long way,
Or should I just jump the curb?
Jeeportunity!
The well-worn road around the butte
Will take ten minutes more
But a dusty two-track byway
Will save us some time -- I'm sure!
Jeeportunity!
This time the parking lot is full
‘cept a small space next to a hill
“No worries!” mumbling to no one,
“I’ll just drive it up there in Four-wheel.
Jeeportunity!
It”s time to buy a set of wheels,
Your spouse wants the blue mini-van.
There, on the end, what’s that you see?
A Rubi Wrangler! Yup, I’m a fan!
Jeeportunity!
Some cold day in my future life
I will climb the stairway to heaven,
In a golden Jeep with a mega lift
And the tires will be Thirty Sevens!
Jeeportunities!
Lone, untravelled. Dusty, moaned through.
Before all such, I think
In a dry, but land's forgot roads
Oblivion's wish goads
What leaves, for its departure
Day's, unacknowledged in
Of those shadows, the saddest
Which lead to one's last rest.
Summer is withering away
The earth no more is seen in green
Colourful blooms, no longer seen
The sky is dappled with clouds gray
The sun has lost its golden sheen
Dales deep, veiled in foggy screen
Autumn leaves litter the byway
When wintry gales shake the pine trees,
Acorns drop, presenting a maze.
Trees in multi shades line the way
Indeed a delight for the eyes
All through, one feels November's breeze
Sad, these golden moments won't stay
Though wind sings as it passes by,
From our hearts, rise a restless sigh!
Summer is withering away
The sky is dappled with clouds gray
Autumn leaves litter the byway
Trees in multi shades line the way
Sad these golden moments won't stay
Sept.21.2022
~ Placed Nineth~
Entered for Brian Strand 1215 Contest
~Placed First~
In Remembrance of Connie
Autumn Theme Poetry Contest
Sponsor- Suzanne Delaney
And now my final beer is at it's end
And I have taken far to many
handover blow's
Book's
I've read a few
But then again to few to mention
Began a lot stood them tall then
chewed them up and spat
them out along the byway
And this i know for certain
Those curtains are just 1 prime example
of my many so many mistakes
I traveled with along the highway
Because as a man I scored nought
And more much more than this
I did it my way
Keola – Free Verse
Crossroads Converge
Robert Frost
TWO ROADS crossed paths – DIVERGED IN A crossroads YELLOW WOOD
AND I felt the binding turning points
Bound up on fiery indecision of whispering bellows
Take the smooth byway that beckoned –
The easy thoroughfare of compromising positions –
Or
A narrower way, a dusty avenue of overgrown ambivalence,
A rough path cobbled with pacing anxiety
Tread this indolent valley’s vacillation
Slightly overgrown with luring curiosity begging for attention.
I TOOK this invitation
THE ONE with scattered isolated footprints LESS TRAVELED
BY hasty choices AND the one THAT sang
In baritone vibrations of either or –
That HAS promises of reconciliation in quiet meditations
MADE upon this parallel path –
ALL OF THE DIFFERENCE beneath the serenity of arching boughs
And songbirds cooing in cool glens, scented leaves fluttering,
Resting in consolation’s life -
The consummation of white fire.
1-21-22
Contest: Keola Secret
Sponsor: William Kekaula
A Forest Dance
————————————————
for a dance around the tree
four youths link hands
circling
giggling into a cathartic
collapse
joyous over burrowed-under
bridges above the ground
of the nutrient-searching
long mossy roots
arms out
and then
they ran off
the tree left sensing
her ancient coarse bark
crusted coat creaking
as the winds hit
and knowing near
the solemn hanging
swaying
of uncountable needles
of pines aloft branching
on out of the forest
byway close to infinity
—————————————-++++———————————-
(Written for Jim)
(c) sally young Eslinger 12/18/21
Thanks be to God
Walk out to ocean, this stony pathway,
Folk story declare, twas a snakes byway.
Climbed from sea, wormed onto the hidden cave,
Men explored and commune, the knowledge crave,
This legend lives on, even to this day!
Along the horizon, dawn caught away,
Rides in with glory, it's mystic gateway.
Morning shines hope on, the soul of each brave,
Walk out to ocean.
Mist rises, the ocean hides the door way,
Relish the cold evening, welcome skies grey,
The lava flow stairway, the surf well lave,
Presents a view, foretell of gifts we save.
The moon radiates rich, dream day can't stay,
Walk out to ocean!
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