I shape my thoughts with words to be my guide
to write poetry that speaks the unknown
whether by thought or a heart-felt tide
that flows within me in a fractured tone
poetry unfolds puzzles from its edge
so, I can mold my words without hubris
this tapered tool becomes a worded wedge
to lift my spirit when I feel helpless
it strips confusion from the shrouded dark
and cleanse my words of all my old blunders
so, I may write lines from one small spark
that comes to me and my soul I plunder
you ask, what has poetry meant to me?
it lets my mind grow deeper and be free
Majestic lighthouse you still stand
Foundations deep beneath the sand.
Of granite blocks and tapered tower
Uniquely structures staying power.
At dusk, the keeper walked the stairs
Along the way each window checks.
With watchful eyes, the ocean scanned
The routes for those who crossed he planned.
From dusk to dawn, bright signals send
This light shone through optic lens.
Then through the day this lens was cleaned
So, through the night the lighthouse beamed.
The sailors would on him depend
For them, their lives he would defend.
But modern days have seen decline
And rarely now do keepers climb.
But stories; many could be told
From memories lighthouses hold.
Of battles won and lost at sea
That only keeper’s eyes could see.
From streak and blur of candle faint
Her whispered breath gasps through dim hall--
That longing haunts without restraint
When a presence twirls come midnight:
Gently, gently she advances
Yet tapered wax fades...bleak the loff
And she aches for snuffled chances;
To meet him ...in world's afterlife
9th place
1985 changed a lot of things
no more seeing my grandma daily
no more home cooked meals
no more trips to the farmerstown auction barn to get ice cream cones
grandpa was on his own
left to piece together meals
as he went out to farm
holidays weren't the same
grandpa would come over eat and go home
to an empty farmhouse
grandma was the glue
and we were the jigsaw pieces
tapered together to form a family
now we are out of whack
misplaced
even lost
NATURE’S ALLEGORICAL MOONING: A HAIKU DUO
First sneaking a peek,
She’ll later look all around
Seeking fulfillment:-
Gracefully tapered,
New fingernail moon smiling,
Reflecting new life:-
sing to me I ask
as waves crash against tapered rock
creating it's own voice
Ice doesn't concern itself with the thoughts
of men, it is speaking Mother Nature's
language, loved by men when weather is fair;
despised by men when weather is then fraught
with wind and snow and stormy invaders,
deadly to men going out if they dare.
Better to shelter when Nature is riled,
better to rest ‘til Nature is tapered
into gentle breezes and sunshine's flair,
better to wait until ice is exiled
by Natures warm share.
Tapered to honor
Bound to glory and courage
Prisoner of faith
We journeyed then as whim behooved,
Our lives were eddies, wind and play;
Great hearts were we, so far removed
Whence any mortal thought might stray.
And sunlight streamed upon our souls,
And starlight to the distance played;
As softly lapping water lulls,
I would it were and never fade.
For we on honeydew had fed,
And with the winter winds were wed,
And so, like clouds of August sped
Across the wondrous sea.
And many dulcet days there fell,
And many harbors sheathed our bow,
And many marvels might I tell,
If tapered time would but allow.
Emotional Burdens Set Sail on Dark Waters Lagoon
Adrift, Under the Soft Light of the Waxing Crescent Moon
Subtle the Reflection, the Tapered Lunar
Gently Glistened Dark and Murky Ethereal Water
The Rippled Surface Parted to Embrace Oshun's Daughter
Dark Waters, Uncharted Enchanted Tantric Whispers
With Urgency, Implores the Mystic Explorer
Seeking Light in the Dark
Hoping for Star Lights to Illuminate a Path
Opaque and Obscure Neptunian Watery Depth
Bubbles revealing a Treasure Cave where Creativity is Kept
Nurturing Seeds of Aspiration
Dark Waters Incubate Newly Conceived Inspiration
Piscean Streams of Motivation Needed
To Aide the Birth of the Water Lily Seeded
Dark Water, Dark Moon Daughter
Now Submerged In Blissful Abysmal Depths
Dreamy Trance, Her Secrets the Dark Waters Kept.
Its wings were double fronds of gauzy green,
its fragile form a long and tapered flair—
this fallen dragonfly I had not seen
before, when I had walked out on my stair.
I bent and saw that it was not alive,
its body crushed, its wings ravaged and torn.
Yet something of its beauty still survived—
a remnant of the luster it had borne.
I marveled at such elegance in death,
a noble creature, still, upon my stair.
A wave of melancholy took my breath,
and eyes welled for a thing so fine and rare.
I put the grief away and dried my eyes.
Such is the way of tears and dragonflies.
In the archaic anchorage of the wayward mind,
isolated from the righteous roots of inviolability
by the dislodging drive of the deriding desires,
untamed instincts shroud the senses in disdain abyss.
Under the sensual surface of corporeal discernment,
tapered thoughts transitorily profile intrinsic images
on the fleeting screen of the sprouting awareness
within the unique quintessence of universal reality.
The stimulant inner window on enlightenment vista
lets inside rousing sunshine of impetuous actuality,
radiates the impulsive impression of awakened psyche,
enhances the defining strength of the cathartic spirit.
As immanent emotions unfold in spontaneity space,
the soul contained latent in the cauldron of vacuity,
finds freedom, merges inspired with consciousness
of divine oneness in the realm of absolute supreme.
Yesterday's Flame
The candle’s flame still dances with the breeze
and casts her playful shadows on the wall
that pique imaginations with a tease
and bring back ancient memories that please,
and yet her flame’s not bright as I recall.
This once tall, slender beauty was quite chic,
in evening's dimming light she graced the room
while glowing with a certain soft mystique
that always left emotions feeling weak,
and filled my senses with her sweet perfume.
The fervent flame that left a warming glow
and captured my imagination’s dreams,
still softly burns, though not as bright a glow
that conjured ancient dreams I used to know,
and yet she still emits her gentle beams.
Today this candle doesn’t stand as tall;
her fabled slender fading figure flees
while beads of wax, like aging teardrops, fall;
though not the tapered beauty I recall,
her gentle flame still dances with the breeze.
February 20, 2024
Lord….
Thee….
Guide me
Walk my path
Waiting for my bath
Twiddling my thumbs cause I fear me
Yearning for a hut where all those sounds are tapered shut
Please erase such a gut from such controversial rut running from head to toe like smut
Memories of sweet October
Finding time with my li'l sister
We surfed on road with time, like race
Light on her face's my saving grace
We travelled on a cobbled road
Uphill, on a garden so broad
We shared our smiles in many ways
Light on her face's my saving grace
We dared the tides and scourge of time
On gusty winds, our feet did rhyme
We laid our hearts on cozy place
Light on her face's my saving grace
On gorgeous city, made of stone
We planned of some mornings to hone
We cherished time on tapered space
Light on her face's my saving grace
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