I dance.
I dance in the blind like I dance in the nude:
Unbound by the shackles of vision,
Unburdened by choice and decision,
Forsaking forgetting for good.
I dance with the owls and I dance with the deer,
I dance in the nude in the wild,
I dance—a free-spirited child
Endowed with the voices I hear.
I dance through the wild, through the pain, through the shame,
Through time and through rain and through granite,
I dance through the numberless planets
With numbers and letters for names.
I dance.
The sun rose this morning,
Some extra red --
I attribute that to atmospheric dust -- man a manic
Bulk-polluter – taking some personal blame
Last evening’s carousing did not serve A Higher Purpose.
Blank nights prone to bleed into equally unremarkable days –
Since your abrupt departure each dawn has
Become a perverse mirror of profound absence --
Bath and shave, check for new wrinkles, and missing parts
If poor maintenance an occasional inventory of animate sensibilities
Is a wise unscheduled meditation --
Cycles of nameless risings and numberless sets --
Beloved day-launches and warmth of after dusk glitters we shared
Till your guardian Angel took a vacation...or her jealous nature tragically revealed.
Fate and Faith, Worship Therapy mean little to a suffering human heart….
River is running to meet sea,
mountain for touching sky,
bee for taking honey
Birds are flying high.
snail on the leave of tomatoes
sucking flower glaring butter fly,
numberless cricket coming far off
burning and one by one die.
green fields full of crops,
canal dancing near by,
jumping monkeys in the water
paddy fields, hovering on dragonfly,
melodious songs of shepherded,
bleating of sheep grazing nearby,
burning fire sitting around,
touching rosy lips tea and pie,
I am surrounded by
Numberless wells,
At every step that I can,
Take, but up to the well,
I am to fell down,
Into depth of the well,
And from where I will,
Return is not sure,
If I come back, there is,
Another well, if I take,
A step, I will fell down,
In the depth of another,
Well, I am set in the maze,
Of life by the existence,
In some melodious plot Of beechen green, and shadows numberless,
Singest of summer in full-throated ease. - John Keats
As the deep darkness starts to spread over the verdant vale,
The nightingale ruffles its female feathers, attracting the male.
Preparing her stupendous serenade that enchants all divine.
Two lovers pause their kisses to listen to the bird’s haunting line.
Placed 1
A goal to pick between numberless needs.
To choose only one that I might fulfill.
So often problems that were only seeds,
left alone grow into a weed-strewn hill,
and solving will take an unending will
Forgiving is often the task of two.
However, sometimes there is only one.
That makes it more difficult to embue
a gentleness in the bright morning sun,
kindness as night's stars exit, one by one.
But, I know that words can carry wonder,
and, in 'I forgive'' magic just may hide.
Because a friendship that falls asunder
is sadness one should no longer abide
Words can express more than only one side.
Title 3/ Air
Live in the sunshine, swim the sea, drink the wild air.
(Ralph Waldo Emerson)
Live in the sunshine:
As the air strolls neath the elaborate branches
Weaving between dreams of the world
Of crimson sunshade across the spring sky stanzas patches
Waltzed into world's tunes power unfurled
Swim the sea:
Of serene air that starts to sate swan swim
Transcending forward wonder-less
In Refreshing spring strokes of blue sea hymns
Numberless and endless
Drink the wild air:
Spellbound by the silence sweet scent ray’s streaks
Among the aroma of petrichor
Effulgent on limitless verdant mountain peaks
Viewing, embracing, and sharing her
3/19/2024
the bane …
of complacency
the enemy of apathetic ids
an all-consuming blade of inspiration
you, mighty weapon
have slain the fiercest dragons of
detachment and disregard that
humanity has brought against you
and I, a knight of notation,
wield you with an authority graced to me
by a vivid imagination
and a child’s whimsical heart …
oh, I do not take your might for granted
nor underestimate your license …
I remove you from your scabbard
in deepest consideration -
your hilt, I grasp with awe
your edge, I apply in deference and fear
for the wounds I affect
are deep and lasting …
you are the Excalibur of inspiration
pulled from a stone of indifference
by the grandest of acumens and spirits
long, long ages ago …
I take up your glyphic garland
with pride and honor
and an undying respect for
the numberless warriors who came before me
and whose names are a prayer
upon these pious lips …
a prayer for you …
my pen.
Copyright © Gregory Richard Barden, January 4, 2024
Stars of Clarity
It's a mysterious nonmystery.
As I contemplate numberless
stars with the same mind
that counts out my correct change
at the checkout stand at the supermarket
I am baffled by the mathematical infinity,
An expanse of beauty I see
and yet I do not feel alone or distant.
There is something right on the outskirts
of the soul that suggests stars of clarity
and lets me know I am in some way more a beloved brother
than rejected outlander
to these living rotating masses of hydrogen and helium.
So glad you are here to hold my hand.
Day begins to write
on the pages of my waking,
first by rubbing out the scribbles
left by fleeing dreams, then
wanders a thin pencil line
of sound across my mind,
an easy doodle to bring
me slowly out of sleep.
Soon the page begins to fill
with the familiar, taking in
the growing light to annoint
each object with a name.
Thoughts assemble and look
for space to expand
in the paused moments
of a moving pen, some
trying to nudge out the now
with the usual bullies
of threat and fear.
And so, what was blank
has the world and me
spilling line by line
down page after page,
a passing character written
into an evolving plot.
Each morning
the universe wakes me up
and begins again
to write its story.
The only paper it has
is housed in the dusty,
self stained cupboards
of our conscious minds.
Our little lives noted
in the bibliography at the back
of numberless books arranged
in rows upon a shelf, somewhere
in the vast library
of its cosmic self.
Oh misty shadow stop a while
I think thee I can recognize!
Thou float with clouds in every vale
With airy wings in airy guise
Oh love , thy lanes are desolate!
Which lesson thou, thy people taught?
From pages of an ancient yarn
From centuries which hath people fraught?
Thy victims moan in moonless nights
They roam in moonlit winter snow
From centuries numberless on earth
In search of thee they come and go
Their stories I'll write someday
Then send to you in morning sheen
Since thou art far from madding crowd
And we have centuries in between
Thou lives in hearts on heavens high
Thou not in mortal bodies dwell
Thou art the bond of soul with soul
No one had ever bought or sell
You feel thyself on seventh sky
If in thy heart this passion stay
It liveth in stars on towers high
But if you wish, you find a way
Love is stream from heavens God
To earthly shadows doth it flows
No one has tasted from it drop
All standing round in rows and rows
For once thou harken them my Lord
I feel in hearts of heart regret
While night is hovering on the woods
And sun on winding ways hath set
Can show me thou, that haunted vale!?
My dreamy rainbow where withdrew
Where midst of caverns numberless:
The beauty mourns and so does thou!
While Truth was roving all alone
In hoary grass in hoary snow
In forlorn meadow thus I saw
The clouds, the mist and loneliness
I saw the corpses wrapped in shrouds
The palish face The souls distress
Oh come out from my dreamy eyes
Ye dreary phantoms numberless
Ye memories of my bygone days
Not woke me from this beauty sleep
Let carry me the shades of mirth
In Downy ocean s fathom deep
November falls
In languid swirls
Of lacy sorrowful leaves
Waning circles
Of shortened light
How bold the cold becomes
Clearing the weighty clouds
From the pristine ebony ice
Of the heavens
Their astral beauty
Reflecting your eyes
As your hand follows
The celestial lanes of comets
All while the topaz earth
Covers our feet
With the comfort of gravity
Yet I will always
Hold you higher
As high as the
Searchlight of your heart
As high as
Numberless destiny
As high as the
Spirals of the sky
Guiding us north
Even if we
Fall short of the moon
We still have
The infinity
Of stars
11/26/22
Poem of the Day - 11/28/22
First Place, Brian Strand Premiere Contest #53
Your First Breath
David J Walker
Should I try
To name and number
The nameless days and
Numberless nights
I am
Another beginning
A being
The alpha and omega of
Another day spent
Remembering each morning
Each new day forming
Less of sight
and more of scent
I am
Another descending
evening
Riding the tide
of another tonight
guarding the dwindling
visions of vestige
The mellifluous homilies
Ascribed to the bright
Colored lights
Of the moon
I am the nameless
you will never know
living and dying
believing and loving
fearing and toiling
long before you
have come to take
your first breath
Host of Infinity
Guardian of secrecy
Gently ceding gateway
Uncharted oceans vessel
Sailing from ambiguity to concreteness
Symphony of numberless truths
Supreme revealer of the unknown
Rewarding those holding the posture
Correcting the stare and fine-tuning criterion
Wizard who breaks the spell
Cast on by false conscience
And its obstinate madness
Enhance my senses with your aroma
And take in your wings to pleroma
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