Wouldn’t it be sad to live without
A little hope to understand
What our immortal soul’s about
To recognize and represent?
And who would say “Good morning, dear
How’s the forecast on BBC?
I sense the damp in atmosphere
Draw back the curtain, let me see”
And who would answer “Yes, you’re right
It’s drizzling, but the sky gets clearer
How was your blood glucose last night?
No shooting up and down, my dear?”
What actors could’ve played that action?
The voice of yours, your smiling face
Mean more than childlike mind abstraction
We used to cherish in our faith
And what it’s like, remains obscure
But I suppose, “there are more things”
If you could come to reassure
I’ll hear from afar your rings..
Looking out my ever-open front door
as the closing day slowly dies
the sun bleeding iridescent colours
across endless turning skies
as I live and breathe
so you won't forget
I'll draw back the curtains
before fading into the sunset
and yet
leave something behind
to illuminate the room
remind those who follow
and dispel any gloom
as the sooner the better
now would be opportune
to shine a light
my words please mark,
to you I say,
“When it's dark
out there,
know what's watt, don't shirk,
put your hands in the air,
for many hands make light work.”
Hard-work
Like chewing
An asprin
Slow burn like
Cooking ribs
Push thru
Draw back
Push again
Hard-work
Like marriage
Give take
Pray
Air tastes different
Hard-work
Bein alive
Skins thicker
Then a semi tire
But cuts still
Bleed
Hard-work
Better then
No work
Then your
Dead
Whatever was begun without due heed
And all that was not properly conceived,
Although a promise and a pledge were given,
It is right to hesitate — to press on or draw back.
Christopher M. Swan 2008
In the end, we will laugh.
We will draw back the curtain and see there was never distance to cross. We were not away. We were not lost. We have always been home.
There is a table, with many already seated.
We will sit with them and join the meal.
Notice the chair holding you.
Let the hands unclench.
Notice light resting as dust,
with no promise of arrival. It gathers quietly on the table that was always there.
You do not have to earn the meal.
You do not have to understand the room.
You do not have to become anything more than what you already bring.
The language of dust says, there is no need to wait.
The meal has already been set.
The table was never withheld.
Only unseen
Pull the curtain away
You can sit at the table now.
So, Sit.
Sit now.
Nothing is wasted. Nothing is outside.
Everything participates
Sit and laugh a little sooner
Sooner than expected.
aqui mi dama
dio un paso al frente
en la a lo mas
otro lugar, mi dama
mi dama
mi dama
amar
to be loved
mi dama
mi dama
amar por ti
Here my lady
took a step forward
in the most
other place, my lady
my lady
my lady
to love
to be loved
my lady
my lady
to love for you
Some people love me
some can't stand it
when I'm happy
it's a draw back
some adore me
only for me to be
explopiuted
it's the truth
don't ignore it
it's a diference
tween just being
it's a truth thats
worth speaking
I'm in love
I'm in love
so in love
.....
no necesita
masa de eneldo
It’s utterly broken, all of it,
and I am left with so many of the pieces
(weighing them about)
and for the first time in my life I say,
let it fall as it will.
I am not the glue.
Let the King draw back to his corner,
the rook stand by,
the knight be lost in turns,
the queen lie in wait..
the pawns have retired,
and my little bit upon the board?
She has found repose in the farthest corner
in what one would hope is hope,
but a striker stands by and has no other move…
so she waits for her end
because it comes in every dream.
No, she whispers.
They play with my dreams
Laughing at the bursting seams
As everything falls apart
Painting with the blood from my heart
Covering walls with my feelings
As I lay there dying and reeling
They said open your heart to be free
Holding in the twisted smile I now see
There is no basement for how low
They will inevitably like to go
So draw back all of the curtains
Because misery is served for certain
And as my thoughts are bickering
The lights above are flickering
At least let me see the sunrise
Before my final demise
A lifetime of mistakes and aches
I couldn't quite find the brakes
So as my spirit finally breaks
Surrounded by callous fakes
I'm not the only one crying
As I'm laying here dying
But their crocodile tears
Are slanted by sensational sneers
They play with my dreams
Laughing at the bursting seams
As everything falls apart
Painting with the blood from my heart
It's so ironic to finally find fame
When the credits roll on this sad game
Because I have been defeated and deleted
My soul depleted and good intentions cheated
But my echoing cries
Are greeted by one last sunrise
My grandson gave me this first line
and said write a poem about this.
Actually he was singing the first line.
nobody knows the feeling of being alone
nobody
but me, except
when I join the noisy crowd
still, even then
I’ve a feeling
that nobody knows
how obviously still
alone
and lonelier still
and sadder even
as the crowd
moves in claustrophobic circles
and I draw back
until a familiar voice
my own
dares to brave
a “hello”
dash a smile
at another lonely soul
Draw back the curtains at your wake
To welcome in October
And heartily libation take
Lest the old crows find you sober
Invite your fond familiars in
Each cat and rat and magpie
Ignite your jack-o’-lantern grin
And kiss the moon at midnight
Fling far and wide your festive gold
Let no leaf go unvarnished
Stoke hearth and heart against the cold
Lest silver linings tarnish.
I draw a waking breath,
draw back sleeps curtains.
I'm drawing an image of myself
as a gray decay of distance,
a long swim away
from a day of youth,
where a boy once drew his name
into golden sands.
Sea shore, sea shores,
high-tides drawing ever nearer;
must I draw another dawn
onto a fast fading page
or shall I go open a window,
breath deep enough to clear my sight
of any more sinking life-rafts?
With an arrow in the quiver
I aim my bow of instinct
Draw back slow, with intention I release
*pop*
Bursting the bubble of lost dreams
In hopes to awaken once again to
The journey of purpose
*Eagle Sun Ki*
"Ki-Ahp!" I draw back my arm like a sword,
stepping back to challenge, before bracing forward.
Like weapons meeting, grunting lips clink,
each movement controlled, bodies never link.
Roundhouse kicks swing, kumgang punches pop.
Whirlwinds can be felt with each rapid chop.
Maneuvers are blocked with reflexes swift.
From side to side, back and forth we shift.
Rhythmically flowing like a rehearsed dance,
we give-and-take with each emboldened glance.
A stern whistle blows; we wipe our moist brows,
then respectfully shake hands, after our bows.
1-16-2023
Draw back the drapes of those tenebrous clouds
for my eyes desire a glimmer of the pallid moon.
Sullen shadows of night, her beauty enshrouds.
Covering her faint glow is a sin, I dare impugn.
Lustrous is her light when emerged in the night,
as pale as the alabaster skin of my love's cheek.
A pearl in the sky. Passion's flame she will ignite,
reflected across waters in an aura of mystique.
Without the moon, my soul would mourn, bereft.
Her splendor worthy of lyrics written in musical bars.
I would write a sonnet for her if my hand was deft.
Even though her hue is wan, she outshines stars.
I'll not weep for the moon while her light wanes.
I'm aware that it's just a phase, and soon will pass.
Then, comes the time when her luminance reigns
and billowed nimbus will turn aside for her. Alas!
If overcast shadows choose to darken the skies
let them do so to offer shade from the sun's heat,
but never allow them to conceal from my eyes
the trysting place where the pale moon and I meet.
July 22, 2022
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