The sun beamed through her window, and brightened up the air
When the mornings dim moon faded, she saw stardust everywhere
Her little nose softly whistled, and her eyelids gave a wink
When the lampposts in the garden, had all begun to blink
The sunflowers all popped up their heads, looking tall in all their poses
While the tulips and the daffodils, were mingling with the roses
My child woke up from her sleep, and fed water to the plants
Then she sprinkled stardust on them all, to watch them all wake up and dance
Peeking through my bedroom window, and watching my daughter having so much fun
I had to smile when I saw my child, laughing and waving to the sun
Good-bye she spoke in her meek-quiet voice, I'll see you again, Mr. Sun, real soon
But I have to go to school right now, so please come back this afternoon
So, when schooltime was over, and she was skipping her way back home
The sun popped out to stay with her, so she would not skip back alone
By Phan Tan Hai
Waiting for you, my eyes on mist and smoke—
once I stood beneath the eaves;
even the late-night lampposts asked
whether I had fallen in love with you.
One morning, one evening of longing,
ten days, a hundred moments, a thousand nights;
a bird crying in the wind-swept sky
carrying again my words: I love you.
There was a time I sat like a stone statue,
hair and beard growing into a forest;
did you see me in the leaves—
missing you like night misses day.
Meeting again, tears filled that time;
why ask about the white clouds of home;
weary from wandering through the years,
I guided you across the long miles.
Loving each other through a time of breaking,
why remember the spring rains and sun;
my verses tangled with memory,
loving you through every cold season of distance.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Oh, look! The Wump wears polka-dot socks.
It tap-dances swirls on peppermint rocks!
Its belly jiggles like jelly on spoons,
While whistling loony, balloon-tune croons.
One foot hops east, the other foot west,
It juggles twelve pies (but drops all the rest).
The townsfolk giggle, the lampposts sway,
As the Wump cartwheels over the Milky Way.
With a flibbertigibbet and zoodle-zoo,
It winks—then gets stuck on sparkly glittery superglue!
The Ambience Tells It All
The full moon rising slowly above the horizon;
The light from the lampposts in the street
Appear misty in the rain that comes as an evening guest!
The passers-by returning home after the day’s work;
Carrying headaches and fatigue with them under hats,
Wearing raincoats, as aliens act as if they all are strangers!
To the girl with the bouquet, drenched in love,
The reflections of the light like mirages under her feet,
The twilight, the wild cries of the birds going helter-skelter
Appear to be the harbingers of bad omens!
Leaning on a lampposts pole
Cigarette in hand
I only smoke when I'm down
I'll smoke any brand
Okay, this is it!
No more cigarettes for me
Time for me to quit!
Reflection
It is autumnal, and the wind blows
Light from lampposts sways
The day smells of oncoming winter
Sadness and a longing for the past
It will always be like this
The hankering for years gone by
Like the wake from a ship
The birds in the sky will leave to
The curtain billows, ready to set sail
Across the seas, towards infinity
And beyond
There are vultures perched on the
lampposts of Florida
You can hear their young calling
in the morning breeze
They search for the desert that
was once their home
It's forgotten for now, a relic of the past
So they just sit and wait
The lampposts stand,
stoic and lonely,
spirits overlooking the barren land.
Their light’s turned cold,
same as the air’s developing bite.
It’s only natural;
winter drags in a reality both harsh and unforgiving,
unrelenting in its frigid austerity.
How could anything not bare its teeth in response?
The chill is seeping into my fingertips,
turning my blood to ice.
My northern attitude creeps back in,
darkening my vision,
and I start to feel I’m on shaky ground.
I’m overlooking a precipice;
one foot in today,
the other in a clouded future.
I can discern from it nothing but terrifying probabilities.
The cold wraps its fingers around the base of my spine and whispers:
the friends you know today will be blurry ghosts of themselves come tomorrow.
They’ll never regard you without frost in their hearts and eyes.
I pray my sense will return when I thaw.
I can’t believe I thought that,
I can’t believe I went that way,
My mind journeys and wanders,
Mountain highs and valley lows,
It travels.
I can’t believe I strung together those words,
I can’t believe those words flowed from me,
My mind is a window to my outside,
Sometimes it’s shadowed by the night,
Sometimes I see a trail of light.
I can’t believe I opened that door,
I can’t believe I went down that alley,
Monsters lurk around the corner,
Darkness pervades the ambience,
Mysteries stand like lampposts.
I can’t believe I went through that rain,
I can’t believe I came out of that pain,
My mind seeks solace in a new day,
My mind searches for comfort in the dawn,
I inquire about the path to redemption.
May 22, 2024.
Took my dead dog for a long walk today.
I like to think that some that passed by
glimpsed the whisk of her bushy tail
or heard her cheerful panting,
as she strained at the leash.
I was reading a book about Shelties,
how they were bred to be working dogs,
sheep herders,
and won’t ever be lapdogs.
Back home, both tuckered-out,
I glance down,
she is asleep already,
no doubt chasing my legs,
around a bunch
of lampposts and fire hydrants.
Poet's ink portrays wonders so profound,
as the last crimson rose of summer fades,
verdant leaves gently float to soggy ground,
weaving a pattern of saffron, beige shades.
Autumn's theatre parades vibrant hues,
as misty fog covers frozen meadows.
Haunting pastels animate artist's muse.
as poetic palettes splash glowing prose.
Lampposts ignite with cold midnight moonlight,
as snow flakes embrace trees in a white fleece.
Astral blooms inspire the soul to recite
in a rhythmic aesthetic masterpiece.
Lost in the elegance of nature's call,
art is adored in the grandeur of fall.
If I had alternative choices with a D
I would take my druthers all over the world,
making a difference
choosing other ways of seeing.
I will need a million trail-cams,
and a million gateposts, trees
or lampposts
to attach them to.
I want to see what's going on
when we are not looking.
I want to choose
between the strange, the ill-defined,
the inexplicable and
whatever other world
we are interacting with.
That would be my mission -
my druthers.
A million trail-cameras
snapping the world
while we all sleep or wake,
none of us
suspecting that our pictures
are being taken.
emerging twilight
lampposts light up shadow path ~
sirens blaring ... howls
12/3/2023
Foggy mists engulfed the bright
When raindrops fell throughout the night
The lampposts glowed at midnights dark
When sweethearts kissed at Lover's Park
Moonbeams drenched their wet cheeks
When pansies blushed a face that speaks
Two hearts adrift, will the cold night adorn?
When their embrace freeze, will love be born?
Foggy mists engulfed the bright
When raindrops fell throughout the night
The lampposts glowed at midnights dark
When sweethearts kissed at Lover's Park
Together they braved the soaking rains
For they were lost in lover’s lanes
They could not bear to say goodbyes
Lost in the storm of lover’s eyes
Collaboration with Charles Messina
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