On Dark Dying Sunless Beams I Went To Wait
Destined to be valor was a granite block
World had no idea what lay ahead;
Intuition was dreamed, I lay in bed,
Even to this soul, my power became a shock!
Yet you my darling in your blinding light
Why on weeping earth did you race to leave?
Gifting dire lonesome sifted through a seeve
As your comet fled into dark of crying night.
In your lost paradise you call my name
But I vanished away into a galactic herd
You then fell like a perishing little redbird
And sad truth was nobody won that sick game.
On dark dying sunless beams I went to wait.
While you lived sad, eating only your deep hate.
Robert J. Lindley, sonnet
Jan 5th 1976
I worry about the long silence,
why life does not reawaken
and instill in us the awaited hope?
Can distraught hearts beat again...
forgetting all the pain for an hour?
The sunless and dim morning
has stopped all the cheerful
warblings of the song sparrows
and of the marlins hiding,
fearing to become the next preys
of the hungry ravens that croak!
More sad hours will follow,
will harmony be restored to the dry
meadows awaiting rain?
That Chirpine planted by an Indian
farmer twenty years ago has fully grown;
it is rarely seen in a land
of oaks, of aspens, and of firs
that attracted the snowy owls,
the killdeers, the grouses, and the larks!
If there weren't any forests, where
would these beautiful birds go?
Where would we hear their songs
when nothing else thrills us...
imagine a forest without them!
I'm walking down narrow paths
that haven't seen a single raindrop fall,
and they only ones that complain
are the park rangers that ride
their horses down those dusty paths!
this day
is somber
like thoughts
clouds swell
with eyes
awaiting
winter's wrath
to fall
silently
The clouds have their day
to release what’s pent within
no longer able to hold the mask
of sunny days meant to last
the halcyon all pursue
a status quo for the abused
idyllic for the quick glimpse
when inquires seek portends
even as the coming storm
gathers round behind the smile
heavy with the unresolved
echoes of the saddest times
soon to drench the frowning crowds
scurrying to answer shelter’s prompt
away from those who can't escape
the overcast of sunless days.
i'm in prison
no chance of
a prism or early
out for good
behavior
it seems like
years or at least
a month or a week
but maybe just a few
days that have passed
looking at
the X's on
my wall i
etched by
myself and
lost my time
lost time and
again losing
my mind that
that was never
quite right so
i must read back
my own lines in this
poem to realize i was
writing about the total
lack of
sunshine
only rain and
cloudy days but
there is no such thing
as climate
change but
i've digressed
from the fact that
the sun hasn't shone
and so without
my sunshine
through rain and
mist it will never
come come
a time
where i
will able
to see a
rainbow
I go up
And you go down
It's something about
When you come around
That little...
Time I spend with you
Moon...
The prettiest
You woo
You'd weep
When times I set
I slept..
Only to see you
Weeping...
Again
SUNLESS IN NORTH SHIELDS
It’s painful when the sea wind
Drives rain into the eyes
At the end of Yeoman Street,
Where I waited so long for that girl in the yellow raincoat,
Who never came.
Seagulls mocking down distant streets
Of Utrillo roofs and closed doors.
At her absence I became an empty sack of strength.
Instead of a warmth of yellow and an inspiration of kisses,
There was only a solitude of tears.
I squinted against the rain, and the whiff of fish,
And the sunless world -
Rough tussocks sloping down to the murky Tyne,
Row of houses huddled against wind and spray,
Sprouting mushroom chimney pots
With jagged edges like jester’s hats.
...............................................................
Note...North Shields is a small coastal port in North East England, always cold even in summer.
Other poems of mine, similar to this, are available at
https://www.fictionmagazines.com/magazines/five/
a gray cloud covered
as a dark pall the sunset
announcing day end
2-21-2016
The sun's not out,
It's cold outside,
My face is wet,
From the tears,
From my eyes
A gray sunless day.
Heavy rain flagellating
my bare-necked crying soul.
A sunless world
will unfold, then
deep cold will come.
An Ice Age might
hide sunlight from
Man's sight to fret.
Where will we go?
On snow and ice
we'll crawl and die.
Is this fiction,
or the frown that
each one will wear?
Days of sunless set the less of soul
Life in madness round a black of hole
Fog upon a bank where darkness quells
Drowning out the sense, amid a world of wishing wells
Bottomless depths within fathomless deeps
Endless torments, end in murky keeps
And all too quick, sands falling lost and fast
Grasping hands, slipping slowly further into black
sudden wailing storm
in the gutter a baby quail
lies dying. . . slowly
For Rick Parise's "Haiku You"
Where water dwells nary an eye has seen
twas eons ago called sunless streams
beckon mine ear to behold soundless clatter
sunless streams tis all that matter
sunless streams is life to sustain
constricted beneath yet not contained
motionless sunless life beneath the ground
underground tavern there's no bound
seen unseen by the naked eye
hear o heart thy streamless cry
buried unleashed in caverns dark domain
beckoning motionless streams detained
billowed cry from Hades knowledge dream
hear the beckoning of sunless streams