|You, I and LifePage 2 of 6 (1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6)|
|Salty and Social ...|
Your insights are thought provoking ... perhaps they are others who will expand on the observations and philosophy you've brought forward for us to think about ...
|One or … the Other©|
Posted: 1/11/2007 9:33:40 PM
|There’s always love and hate,|
Each awaits the others’ abate
When one wanes, the other grows
One holds hope – the other one woes.
Posted: 1/12/2007 7:04:40 AM
|So … here it is: My two cents |
(I know that’s not much recompense
For using up this space and time
With this, my lowly rhyme.)
But … in this published poetry
I’ve read rhymes of majesty
Too, I’ve read some words from whence
I can simply make no sense
But making sense of what they write
Reflects only on my insight
And does not diminish - in any way
What it is they have to say
And in these pages as I drift
I read poets who have “The Gift”
In shock and awe do I read
And now I find I must concede:
Good or bad, short or long,
All these poets sing their song
All can see, there is NO doubt
‘Tis from their hearts these words ring out
So, I’ll not read them critically
For who the hell am I to be
In judgment of a poets heart
Of what’s inside which they impart
They open paths for their purvey
For they must say what they have to say
In their hearts they write As One
And to all I say: Wow! Well done!
Posted: 1/13/2007 5:29:46 PM
|A fascination in stories of long times ago |
Had held my interest for I loved them so
And by one in particular was I enticed
Involving a train and a robbery heist.
The year: Eighteen and Seventy-six
The heist involved some future convicts
Some say twas Jesse and his brother Frank James
Long associated with robbing of trains
It was early July, the humidity high
With temperature nearly high as the sky
That night a train moved up a long hill
A plaque marks the spot to this day still
The robbers above, on a rocky steep bluff,
Above the train tracks – they saw the black puff
Of the smoke and soot the engine spewed out
And the engine labored as it continued its’ route
The passenger train filled with people and gold
Slowed on the grade as onward it rolled
The robbers awaited in their hiding place
Then … jumped on the train, leaving nary a trace
Brazen and daring the gunman strode in
Scaring passengers near out of their skin
Looting jewelry and gold with Colt .44s
Pleadings of passengers the gunmen ignores.
With the passengers’ cash stuck in their jar
The gunmen stormed the trains’ Express Car
17 grand to the robber’s coffers were fed
(At least that’s what the railway accountants had said)
Two of the trainmen, the gunmen shot dead
As Colt .44’s spit out their hot lead
The shooting of trainmen had not been a need
Maybe twas extension of their gluttonous greed
But the robbers? … they all got away clean
And were never after there again seen
At least not alive – but there’s rumors about
Of a ghostly white train still running that route
And late at night on a warm summer eve
When the moon is full, the moonbeams will weave
A long moving image in the moonlight
Of a white misted train there shining bright
Some people swear … some people believe
‘Tis those ghostly trainmen who want to retrieve
Their lives that were taken back in ‘76
And through replacements that wrong to unfix
Now it is said, on those long moonlight nights
When the train runs the track that through their dendrites
The ghostmen still look for those to imbue
And replace themselves within their venue.
And eternally thereafter those they’ve replaced
Will ride the ghost train forever encased
In misty white shades of ghostly white hues
And the curse of The Train in them abuse.
If the rumor be true, here’s a word for the wise:
I’d not be near train tracks under night skies
‘Cause the story of Jesse that I’ve told to you
Every last word of that story is true!
If I were you and had to travel at night
Sometime in July when the moon’s shining bright
I’d walk … take a car … or maybe a plane,
But I wouldn’t get into ANY white train.
|Words of Darkness©|
Posted: 1/13/2007 10:23:15 PM
My words are birthed in this their womb
But if they’re read then ‘tis your doom
Your eyes’ mind-portals open wide
And invites their rancidness deep inside
Once therein the slime does ooze
And festers there, in changing hues
Then, in time, the rancid clots
You’ll feel the pain as your mind rots
All your thoughts what e’re they be
Turn into malignancy
And your being will be maligned
With normal thought all declined
By all means, read my words
They’ll become the dark stewards
Of all the things malcontent
And breeders of your torment.
I’ll remain here in this womb
As doors are closing on your tomb
And as the darkness round you girds
I’ll infect new souls with rancid words.
|The Door in the Wall©|
Posted: 1/14/2007 3:16:55 PM
Oh, we want so to find us that friend
That certain someone on whom to append
Our broken faith and our abused trust
Which demonic others have ground into dust.
To rebuild our faith, (that’s if we can),
And regain a trust in our fellow man.
But deep inside it’s a fence we have made
To ward off the hurtful, cutting sharp blade
Of crushing of faith and betrayal of trust
For emotional protection that fence is a must.
Our fence screams out: “Go with caution, my dear”
So we proceed with experienced fear
Our trust, once broken, is hard to repair
For pain left behind is so hard to bear
Bricks in our fence, we’ve given names:
Liar; Cheater; and Player of Games
The learning for us, in each of those bricks
Are permanent brands our minds have affixed
As scars and wounds, some which still bleed
They’re our reminders to always take heed
And not repeat those things of our past
That caused the pain and allows it to last
But our need of faith, and desiring of trust
Still make our forward motions a must.
To our benefit at least now we know
What to accept, and what to lay low
Experience, tho’ painful, is there to recall
Behind our emotional defensive wall.
So, on we go, in search of that friend
Hoping for enough trust to transcend
Allowing construction of a door in our wall
And start the rebuilding of faith in us all.
Posted: 1/15/2007 9:03:02 AM
|Absorbed by souls is: What we transmit:|
Our image physical, nice or unfit,
Or: Our innerselves as how we are seen
Collected by souls in a characters’ tureen
Impressions of we, are mulled ‘round, and then,
After analysis … are transmitted again
And in those reflections these others transmit
We find, in Life, just where we might fit.
We may see ourselves in radiant shades
And may expect rave accolades
But in these others honest critique
Our radiance may become meek
Among us there’s those who will try to deny
That such reflections just don’t apply
But those who court such arrogance
Retain mediocrity as their recompense
But those that will listen, and try to amend
Those constructive critiques will then ascend
To loftier places within their own souls
And inner peace and loftier goals
Answers? No one possesses them all
But we can’t disregard our critics’ call
For without change, then stagnant we’ll be
And through lack of growth live uselessly.
|Who Is She?©|
Posted: 1/15/2007 1:54:54 PM
|Her locomotion seemed to have no source|
As I watched her glide her course
For she moved within liquidity
Quietly … gracefully.
I know not her face or name
But her image does there remain
Embedded within my memory
Often I’ve wondered who she be.
Posted: 1/15/2007 2:27:07 PM
|It was just a butterfly that flitted into view|
And as quickly as it appeared, it bided me adieu
But the image of that butterfly lingers with me still
Of its’ gyrations and its’ travels of freewill
For I, not long ago had been that butterfly
Its’ movements and its’ travels my life did typify
And carefree flitting had been my chosen fate
Get to my next “flower” – I simply couldn’t wait
Like that butterfly I paid no heed unto the wind
To my next flower I went on undisciplined
There would always be the flowers … always be the time
Forward was my mission: Another stem to climb.
Now, so late, I see the sunsets’ nearly here
No more flowers to flit unto, and time will disappear
I have no regrets within me, nor does that butterfly
For we have both fulfilled our needs – that butterfly and I.
Posted: 1/16/2007 7:35:21 PM
|Speed is, as speed does|
Here it is … there it was
One-seventh of a second is one eye blink
Not a lot of time for just one wink!
At the same time, on the internet
‘Tis 30,000 bytes you can get
But nothing’s faster than heartache
For you know instantly when it breaks
Posted: 1/17/2007 2:20:33 PM
|The world goes on – whether with you or not |
And regardless of what all we have thought
Departing this world via nature or man
Changes nothing in it’s overall plan.
“I’ll show them” when taking ones’ life
Leaves behind even more stress and strife
And to say “I can’t cope” and do yourself in
Leaves pain and sorrow for all of your kin
Those who profess to have it so hard,
That nobody cares, and want a Life’s guard
Need look at a man who has not two legs,
Whose only income is that which he begs.
Finding the answers to all of Life’s woes
Can’t be found in wallowing sorrows
Or through the bottle, nor with a gun
Such actions leave blackness when you are done
Nor does dropping out of society
Which is just another excuse to go flee
From self-made demons alive in your mind
When they’re combined with reluctance to find
The source of your problems, the causes inside
From which you so endeavor to hide.
The answer, indeed, and surely there be
Involves the facing of reality
And walking hard paths, the difficult lanes
Then your troubles through answers arraigns
All of your demons, all of your fears
‘Tis then the bright sunshine appears
And all you thought hopeless, all you thought hard
Are then buried within the graveyard
Of your misery and lost cause of your past
And there lay useless, discarded at last.
Left there is hope and the future ahead
Because you have rendered your demons dead
Then … return to an earlier time,
With innocence and mirth, your only rhyme.
|Squandered and Overdosed©|
Posted: 1/18/2007 12:35:58 PM
|‘Tis the one thing most all of us shun |
We don’t think of it until there is none
And then, of course, it’s always too late
You can’t get it back, there’s no rebate:
We flit from home – to fun – to job
For more entertainment: Just turn a knob.
If a relationship’s gone to the bad
No need to fret – another can be had
If your job sours, n’ your car has shot craps
Get a new job, and a new car, perhaps.
All of these things are normal, I guess
But within them all we never address …
The time it takes, as it’s frittered away.
There’s always tomorrow – we say today,
But comes a day in our life - a time -
When all sense of reason, all sense of rhyme
Has no more meaning, for Time will be gone,
We’ll wonder what we spent it upon
Desperately we’ll want amends to be made
To those who helped us along our parade
Thanking all our kin-folk and friends
They, too, may be gone, for Time finds its’ ends
To all living things, to all lifes’ events
It stops abruptly – it knows not suspense.
For those who have youth and vitality
Don’t spend your time so absently
Think of things that matter to you
For Time goes on, and the seconds accrue.
And if you’re not careful, and not paying heed
There won’t be the time you may desperately need
When comes a day you’ll need the Time most
And find you’ve already in Time overdosed.
Posted: 1/18/2007 9:19:39 PM
|The death of Truth through filters’ sift |
By news conglomerates, it is their gift
To the demise of democracy
And the strangling of Liberty.
Freedom becomes what we’re told
By power moguls rich and bold
Who hold the reigns on all the press
And provide to Truth, it’s first abscess.
Government’s first love: Greed
Is passed to conglomerates as their feed
So stockholders may get their share
And feast upon their gold éclair.
And as Truth dies, it’s buried deep
For underground they must keep
All the things we mustn’t know
Or we’ll I.D. their politico …
And all the twisted tales and lies
That Truth always identifies.
If we demand, and then inspect
‘tis Truth we can resurrect
We must stop the conglomerates
For ‘tis not of sifted estimates
That our citizenry then acquires
The knowledge of what transpires.
|A Soldier’s Watch©|
Posted: 1/20/2007 9:37:59 AM
|In the golden light of dusk her face was clearly shown|
At her side a small child … the two of them alone
There before them stood, in darkened silhouette
A small simple cross … as the sun went set
No sounds were there-‘bout uttered, but upon the mother’s face
A silent tear fell down … then another, giving chase
The sky remained there golden, as they stood in reverie
Of dreams no longer possible or things they’d planned to be
I float now, here above them, devoid of former life
As God and I watch over … my daughter and my wife.
Posted: 1/20/2007 2:33:51 PM
|When left there is a legacy|
Enhancing of earths’ crust
Do you care if it is known
You left footprints in it’s dust?
It matters not where we go
Nor, where it is we’re from
But our legacy left behind
Echoes our beating drum.
Posted: 1/20/2007 8:35:47 PM
|Away do we wander, away far from home|
Searching for love and our honeycomb
With paths wearied, our dreams become charred,
The amazement is: they’re in our own backyard.
Posted: 1/20/2007 10:43:26 PM
|Now I find underneath your veneer|
For what I’ve been searching: ‘Tis fear that I hear.
As you’ve been reading, there’s been growing doubt:
The words you’ve read in … might not get out
You don’t want to believe, but still there’s mistrust
‘Tween your logic – and my words of disgust
For it could be, the stories are true
And that is what is bothering you.
For you to know with all certainty
If the stories be true, or just a “could be”
‘Here within my musty shadows you’ll find
The answers, but … it will cost you your mind.
Posted: 1/24/2007 9:28:49 PM
|Wisps of memory stream by |
Bringing joy-tears to fill my eye
______ That you and I shared
______ When once you cared
In times long ago that won’t die
Posted: 1/27/2007 8:07:04 AM
|I’ll not take your time, beyond what the need,|
To relate to you a story and deed
As there’s no one else to plea this decree …
For I am the only survivor, you see.
I’m an old man, and my mind’s full of mist
But details of that night in my mind still exist
As vivid and clear, as sharp and exact
Of the precise moment the beast had attacked!
When I was young, and adventure routine,
With excitement and newness still unforeseen
I was eager to spread my wings to the world
And seek more adventures as those wings unfurled
Within my long travels I happened to meet
Two other men, making our friendships replete
One was named Beckett, the other one Flynn
And better friends there never have been.
Beckett was tall – an athletic type
While Flynn, the scholar, more fond of pinstripe
Pinstripe or athlete – it mattered not
It was our essence together and that which it wrought.
Engaged were we in all daring do
High on the mountains, and under seas, too,
We crossed dry deserts, and jungles of green
And other adventures there in between.
We’d been together, it was our sixth year,
And still our adventures made us cohere
To every madness – to every rave …
Until we decided to enter The Cave.
We discussed the encounter and planning for weeks
And assembled equipment – some new, some antiques
Until at last the day it arrived …
And our excitement? It still had survived.
We traveled in Flynn’s new “customized” Jeep
Instead of driving in my old rusted heap,
And good thing we did, for the road was quite rough
The last part of the trip, the going was tough.
The map we used, was bought from a guide
Who had told my friend, Flynn: “Don’t go inside”
When he had learned of our journey’s intent
To go into The Cave, and begin our descent.
The guides’ words, had given us pause
When we thought: What was his reason or cause?
But … dismissed were his words of advice
We had each other … and that would suffice.
With our ropes and lanterns and other such gear
It was into The Cave we then disappeared.
The light from our lanterns speared into the dark
We spoke very little and made no remark.
Onward, downward, in blackness we went
Placing out markers for our later ascent
The sounds of our footsteps, and scraping of walls
Reverberated ‘round us – as echoed recalls
In about three hours, or maybe ‘twas four
We encountered water on The Cave floor
And there all around were such beautiful shapes
Never had we seen such gorgeous landscapes
Stalactites, stalagmites and mineral mounds
And dripping water with their “plopping” sounds
Pinks, violets and shades of green hues
A few sightless salamanders made their debuts
We found a small dry spot and then we assessed
This was a place we could stop now to rest.
I set down my lantern, and took off my hat,
When Beckett said: “Hey. Did you just hear that?”
I moved not a muscle, and my ears went to strain.
All I could hear were the droplets, like rain.
And from The Cave’s bowels …I heard it then
I continued to listen – then heard it again.
We looked at each other, but said not a word
Confused and startled by what we’d just heard
It wasn’t a moan, it wasn’t a gasp
But more rather like a guttural rasp
One thing was certain, it wasn’t a stone
That could create sounds while standing alone
T’was our discussion, from which to derive:
The source of the sound was something … alive.
Then from The Cave’s deepened black hole
Came again sounds from a source with no soul
The sound was menacing, and one I despise,
I watched the fear grow within my friends’ eyes.
Instinctively, we three then moved as one
In that instant – our re-ascent had begun
I had been last in the line coming down
I’d be the first to reach the “above-ground”.
Quickly my feet in the lead, lead the way
Flynn, right behind had nothing to say
My friend Beckett, brought up the rear
And in that position had the greatest to fear
The lamp on my hat pierced through the black
And I looked for our markers that would lead us back
To save our strength, nothing was said
Again came that sound that filled me with dread.
The sound became louder and closer it be
And I moved faster through the black before me
I could hear Flynn’s breathing, so close behind
I tried to concentrate on the markers to find
Somewhere behind me, then snarls I heard
Loud and vicious, run together and blurred
Close … so close … the beast was so near
Adrenalin rushed through me to react to my fear
T’was then I was hit with an overpowering stench
The smell caused my stomach to turn and to wrench
The odor blew past me, and I knew t’was the breath
Of the beast of The Cave – its’ stench of death.
I was near running, but down on all fours
Sweat was streaming from all of my pores.
Then I heard those terrible screams
The ones I keep hearing in all of my dreams
It was Beckett I knew in his shocked agony
Midst the snarled snapping of jaws I can’t see
I heard bones cracking and squishing of flesh
And the fear within me gave new strength afresh
My fingers were raw from grabbing at rock
But on moving forward my mind had its’ lock
My stomach still queasy from the stench of the beast
I knew he was finishing his beastly feast
I knew, too, t’was only a matter of time
When the beast would return. I had to climb!
I heard Flynn say: “IT’S COMING AGAIN!”
Again was a surge of my fear deep within.
I heard once more the beast from behind
And fought the panic taking over my mind
Something heavy struck against The Cave’s walls
The kind of sounds that ghastly appalls:
A scraping of talons of heavy clawed feet
Caused my heart to double its’ beat
I had the feeling that Flynn lagged behind
I screamed my urgings loud and maligned:
“Flynn! Flynn! Catch up to me!”
But took not the time to look back and see
For the sounds of the beasts’ crashing against The Cave’s face
Told me it neared – and was gaining the race
My knee hit a rock, my balance was lost!
I fell to the ground, and then feared the cost
In losing the time in scrambling free
Again sheer panic stabbed into me.
In less than an instant, Flynn was there too,
His face in my light was of a strange hue
And as he helped me get back to my feet …
Flynn turned around – t’was the beast there to meet.
The stench overwhelming, but the sight was much worse
For standing before us: The malignant curse
Of overlapping scales in shades of dark gray
The rest of its’ body concealed in umbrae
But its’ eyes … its’ eyes … I’ll never forget
Rheumatoid yellow, and deeply inset
Its’ reptilian lids blinked just one time
‘Fore its’ lips peeled back revealing the slime
Glistening yellow over dagger-like teeth
Then oozed from its’ mouth to fall there beneath.
The beast reared up, then we saw its’ claws
Sharp and deadly within its’ forepaws
Towering above us, no sound the beast made
On beams of our light had his gaze stayed.
Unexpectedly Flynn then turned and faced me
With less blinding light, the beast could again see
Why Flynn had turned I never will know
For the beast bit him in two, at his torso
And I was looking at Flynn – direct in his face
When the beasts’ bite his life did erase.
I screamed, and instantly away did I run
Away from the beast, and dead companion
Through the price of Flynn’s life, more time had been bought
To reach The Cave’s entrance – the goal that I sought
Running wildly, several times did I fall
But toppling did not my mission forestall
The beast I knew still somewhere behind
Drove me on forward with my besieged mind
I heard its’ clawed talons scraping the wall
And prayed I’d not again stumble and fall
Then, up ahead, a small opening I viewed
And I saw my chance, and hope there exude
Twelve feet … six feet … then it was three
But the beast and its’ stench was there behind me
I dove through the rock opening, scraping my head
But better that injury than ending up dead
I was elated, and about to rejoice
I then heard a scream – it was my own voice!
In my leg erupted intense blinding pain
Looking down I saw the bloodstain
My leg, through the opening, still was stuck out
There was but split-seconds, before I’d lose it no doubt
I pulled my leg back, and in but a flash
My shoe was removed by a clawed talon slash
I crawled back from the opening, then I could see
My wound was deep, from ankle to knee
Then suddenly through the opening came
A clawed talon whose aim was to maim
I quickly withdrew out of its’ reach
As the claws extended through the openings’ breech
The opening too small, for continued rampage
And the beast began then to voice its’ outrage
It’s deafening roars assaulted my ears
Echoed through Cave chambers and my mind there cohere
I began attending unto my grave wound
Knowing I now was no longer marooned.
T’was another hour ‘fore I crawled out The Cave
But many days ‘fore I shed the shockwave
Of what had transpired, and what I had seen
And my damaged leg was lost to gangrene.
Now sleep evades me, for my horrible dreams
Show beams of light, and unearthly screams
Of Beckett and Flynn and The Cave we were in
I know tonight, I’ll re-live it again.
So, now you’ve the story, you’ve heard the deed
I swear is the truth I’ve herein decreed
And Beckett and Flynn are enslaved in their grave
And I lost my leg to the beast of … The Cave.
|Do You, Nathaniel?©|
Posted: 1/28/2007 12:54:15 PM
|The entry below is an exchange between two veterans of indeterminate county. And ... they question why it was they fought and a way to help assure no others will again engage in the struggles of their experiences.|
Do you hear the guns, Nathaniel?
Lying there so loud within our memory.
Do you smell the smoke, Nathaniel?
Drifting in the air in memory to see.
Do you feel the wounds, Nathaniel?
Living in the pain of your reality
Do you see “the cause”, Nathaniel?
For which we fought oh so gallantly.
Do you feel betrayed, Nathaniel?
When we found “the cause” was not for liberty
Do you hear the words, Nathaniel?
That said “the cause” was really gluttony.
Do you still bleed, Nathaniel?
For loss of things that always used to be.
Do you still care, Nathaniel?
To reinstate our homelands’ liberties.
For if you do, Nathaniel,
Then it’s to the homeland that we both so love
We must provide involvement
To make the lion lay down with the lonely dove.
|Echoes of Silence©|
Posted: 1/28/2007 10:43:06 PM
|The empty hallway and barren rooms|
Where love we shared no longer blooms
Porcelain there and bits of chrome
Now just a house, but not a home
Where there the laughter rang out
Now the silence echoes about
And me, I stand in this silence filled hall
Feeling another quiet tear fall.
|You, I and Life|
Posted: 4/30/2007 7:12:46 AM
|You Know My Name©|
Legendary is my stealth
And silently do I go
I’ve been with friends of yours
But none of you may know.
The seeds of malignancy
And suffering I plant
Quietly do those seeds grow
Blooming misery I grant.
I spread dark malice everywhere
In persons far and wide
Looking constantly for a place
In which I may abide
No one knows my presence
As I become your crippler
My name? It’s known quite well
To All, I’m known as: Cancer
Help stamp out this deadly curse
|You, I and Life|
Posted: 4/30/2007 7:46:36 AM
|I don't consider it a curse|
to hear your words again
sometimes it's a blessing
to hear your words
I am in the dark side
with my words,
please forgive me
for this curse
I have missed you
Posted: 5/16/2007 4:00:35 PM
… and so the days move forward and as we reminisce
We think of how things used to be before we came to this
The days of yore: More simplistic with innocence so young
Aspirations to the sky, and travels so far-flung
But Life is not yet over, for many dawns are yet to be
We cannot allow ourselves to live in reverie.
Tomorrow may bring wonders imaginations can’t conceive
And they will live within us - in our lives to interweave.
So while the past was wondrous – we don’t regret a thing
The future holds more wonders into our lives to bring
Smiles and joys we’ve never met, things alive and new
So look forward to tomorrow – there are things awaiting you.
Posted: 5/30/2007 10:10:56 PM
|I may be from the wrong country|
but my dear
you restrict me in age...
one of us must change?
I'll go first
borders are open
6 (1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6)