Locked as deep away
What's yet glassed each day
Thought-secure and thought-serene
For world, sense- blurred.
Too grim overcast.
Or blows up too fast.
For a weather-type, down there
What all have incurred.
"She reassured me with an unfamiliar line."
Love is a mystery school, yearning for sages
well able to reckon sixes from nines.
True wits should elect sin's disbursements
rather than reflect on love's scenes of rushing bunglers.
Love is sick, blind, unkind. Aren't we cruel?
She chided: brush your flapper, dying blue
between that pair of cheese crackers.
Remove the Devil's Pitchfork from your hair.
Doubling as Dracula, your zeal repealed
by loving an unpersuaded other.
Stay not inconsolable, my weaning one!
She knelt beside me, interpolating my orations.
Entreat for veritable blindness to take better blame.
Apathetic to any flame, resisting even sipping sunshine
interred in the long night of voluminous drapes,
pray for cardiac arrest to efface 1700 hours of shadows.
Perhaps, pray you would love me, and I shall say something of it.
~
A field overlooking
an arbor of jasmine
where butterflies play
midst the fragrance of love
Bluebonnets smile
as they hide from the clover
that bask in the sun
from the heavens above
Blissful, we stroll
down a pathway concerto
as melodies whisper
from sycamore trees
Lyrics returning
each echo of springtime,
when daffodils danced
in the harmonic breeze
Holding your hand
neath the shade cast of morning,
while rose petal kisses
now scatter the lawn
Breathing the air
filled with smiles and laughter
as clouds wander by
at the edge of the dawn
And I with my heartbeat,
stare off in the distance,
embracing the wonder
with arms open wide
Out here in a field
overlooking an arbor,
where dreams all come true
with my love by my side
He searched every street in town but his own,
Ignoring his best friend who loved him so
For a perfect wife, who would make a great home,
His soulmate put there by angels years ago….
overlooking
seems to be what we do:
overlooking the reality of the field
luminous..peaceful.. and available
the substance of all our days..
famous teachers
some acknowledged
as gods and gurus
are just like you and I
but with a realization
(followed by notoriety)
of the overlooking and a
simple waking to what is
being overlooked..always
available to you and I...
Overlooking our Identity
This is the activity
in which each of us
engage..
Overlooking our Identity
as expanse and expanding
confining it to a
constraining cluster of
perceptions and thoughts..
Until!:
we notice the caging
and the confinement
sounding freedom's call...
A pain Overlooking
From under of the door sills
Overlooking suffering
Uniqueness of paddle in heart
Closed of the doors
Oh, Tears lamb
Which stray from herd
We too
Until now,
trying to cut of crying ropes
We caught up
Did not come a taste of happiness
We sold in the slave market
Looking to new hope.
Somewhere way up high on a mountain top
standing out on a rose covered balcony
in the shadow of the moon's shadow overlooking the sea...
well I reach back into my
memory and pull you back through my
poetry in solitude like a night bird with my
cape pulled up around me tight now
Somewhere In The Mountains Overlooking
The Sea by the light of a lantern I go through
these old picture books one more time when
I was yours and you were mine...maybe someday
I'll fall in love again but it's doubtful for you still
remain the other half of me and missing you
the way I do will surely be the death of me..
What gives him the right to take you from
my life now I'm nothing but a ghost in the
night Somewhere, Somewhere In the Mountains
Overlooking the Sea!
In a bright studio overlooking the noisy street,
I hide from the living to write with a frantic beat;
loud voices and sounds will subdue before dark...
very sweet is the the melody of the lonely lark.
Even when it snows, the view is quite awesome:
watching snowflakes slowly come down and dress
trees in glistening white...one can feel lonesome
when every audible sound is hushed by stillness.
How lovely it is when happy faces peak from windows!
They may seem immensely surprised or stupefied;
and some even open their doors and come outside
to observe the fluffy snow descend on the pines' boughs.
I pause for another minute, then resume my writing...
it's profound observation that inspires the heart and mind,
giving this motivated poet many ideas of positive feeling;
I sense and absorb them, not noticing kids getting wild.
In a bright studio overlooking the noisy street,
I fear shadows towards evening when feet
make deep footprints that lead to my stairs...
and afraid of ghosts, I begin chanting prayers.
Miles....cross rivers oceans and seas
mankind bleeds
our own....caught up
placed in bodybags
" somebody is overlooking us "
tears flooding our streets
screams echoing
" That's Enough "
" somebody is overlooking us "
Abomination, destruction, poverty
madness leaking into our water streams
Poison attached to our food supply
Addiction scatching at the surface
poverty camped out by our back door
" somebody is overlooking us "
children hypnotized by deception
as if they fell hard
causing concussions
rude, disrespectful
growing without direction
forgeting where they came from
" somebody is overlooking us "
diseases spreading like wildfire
bathing in the devils creation
making it hard to breathe
" wake up " society
before we drown in
rivers, oceans and seas
pulled under by life's destruction
" somebody is overlooking us "
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