Spring Morning
today, waking up, it was warmer, the winter
had been cold at times, freezing electric heating
is not for those with a slim wallet
Today, we will write pleasant poetry
not like the boy at the edge of his bed, his feet
not long enough to reach the floor, crying
for yet again losing his home because his mother
has tuberculosis, has to go to a sanatorium
his has to go living among strangers, he has to
be nice to and not be boisterous
Yes, pleasant thoughts, not letting bitterness seep
into this day with its mild breeze and clear light
thinking of the dog he had walking in the woods
Heck, the dog died, that was sad, so let us think
of something else, buying red wine and cheese
Getting pissed and playing music too loudly is not funny
when you are the only one in the room
Two things on offer to gladding the day go for
a walk or sit on the terrace soaking up the sunlight
tell jokes about my life at sea, forgetting long
nights, somewhere on the Pacific Ocean
So, let us embrace old grudges and enjoy life
of not laughing, we know a giggle is short-lived
Categories:
gladding, absence, adventure, age,
Form: ABC
I am madly alive today,
one has to get mad not to be dead.
I wander out,
wending through myself
allowing the warm west wind
kiss the thin ice of a low mood.
Smiles light up my gladding blood,
clouds scud.
I take the bright light
in the field rabbits' eyes,
to set fire to my own sight.
I must give praise to whatever,
I see it threading my reality
through this warm breath of infinity,
both I and it are madly in love
with every crazy-hearted lover.
This boisterous day
the Westerlies do blow,
and the Spring air leaps
as sprightly as a young girl
running over
a sweetly waving meadow -
and by god -
I am mad to be that green grass
beneath her!
Categories:
gladding, poetry,
Form: Free verse
Running today I could feel myself losing it.
Losing the pain and troubles I have been endering for the past few weeks.
As I run, feet gladding over the side walk,
I feel everything sliping behind me.
Like dust my troubles and worries,
trace slowly and smoothly off me and into the wind.
The cold air sinking into my skin,
sending uncontrolable shivers though my nerves,
forced to bend.
Breath oddly slow and comforting like the wispering wind on a cold lonely night.
The sun looming over my head as if to aprove of what I am doing.
Coming back moving, my eyes sting with tears,
tears the I keep dear to myself.
Smoothing my face and septing into my skin,
some excape to the side walk leaving my feelings from deep within.
The blissful run is now at its end.
Categories:
gladding, sad,
Form: Rhyme