(“Loyalty Merit Badge”, 2010, original oil)
Loyal to the Last
In a dream I travel
Some journey of unknown length or destination.
It’s all good at the start
And then quickly becomes harder
A stalled engine, dirty windshield without fluid,
A narrowing road, reduced visibility,
A rocky mountain track where I’m forced
To carry the bicycle
My vehicle has become.
But as I go on and deeper into my solo trek
I still have my trusting pack of dogs
Who eagerly follow
Even as the trail becomes a narrowing ledge
Above the steep drop to a river below
Until eventually it’s all I can do to hang on
As I reach on tenuous holds to the final step
My bike and canine companions abandoned
Behind the last bend.
Dreams if nothing else
Give us snap shots of our mind
Overviews and magnifications of where we are
In a life’s journey that has included
Both the dreamer and his ever morphing dream.
But in the end the dream ends
And all that’s left is the dreamer
And the memory of those companions
Loyal to the last.
(11/8/24)
Categories:
magnifications, dog, dream, journey, life,
Form: Narrative
We went to the darkest places to explore our fear, the alleys and the cemeteries where the trees were thickest and the light dwindled to nothing. We did not go alone walking on the cusp of bravery but led each other dare upon dare to breech each chasm. We knew the day and the places that lay in the periphery of our courage. But the night brought us fright served on trays of vulnerability, teasing us with magnifications of sound and dimness of vision, feeding and freeing the spark of imagination into flames of fear. Children have within themselves the greater fires of the dragons mouth and seeds of whispered voices with words of darker deeds. What lies within much worse than what is real. For all the evils ever wrought are children born from the same potential mother. The spark of imagination that creates both Gods and Devils. The place where we are awakened to answer the call of our own memorized voices. With borrowed courage we become the green of newer grasses, grown around empty bronze helmets long fallen to the ground.
Categories:
magnifications, adventure, childhood, courage, fear,
Form: Prose Poetry
With the drooping sunshine,
So we fly.
Waving to the burning hills,
Do we say goodbye?
Deforming clouds encompasses the horizons,
Reforming itself to strange compositions.
So grotesque is the sight of freezing moon,
a spell it spreads, spreads with magnifications.
The dying light spreads an enigma away so high,
It peeks through the dark clouds, as we pass by.
The trauma passes away,
waving at us with a loud sigh.
Like eagles, we watch the dance of the ocean,
Mesmerised in music,
Of falling sky.
Categories:
magnifications, art, character, gothic, silence,
Form: Enclosed Rhyme
Oooh look. Oh wow. Correlating jumping twists and combinations of bunnies,irons,toothbrushes and eye lash curlers. Turn then a stick. Rotational gravitation and melodically performed interludes. Such magnifications of a single note. Kissing a kindling to produce an even steady glow. Epitomising myth,fables and heavily guarded secrets. Yet seconds are counted by a tick tick tick. And if a lion says hello then one should not discuss crochet with a snooker cue. Balls then in many halls. Darkly dimming daring done. A persnickety perennial pineal gland. Hahahaha and the forts. Hahahaha and a day is one hour 9 minutes. Hahahaha cubes cantering. Xxxx zoologist zones. *** meteorological *** clapflap xx
.
Categories:
magnifications, autumn, beach, birthday,
Form: I do not know?