The old sundog peers at me over a thick wall of clouds.
He guards the gates to Heaven
With his army of ice crystal flecks
Filtering down to earth.
I inhale…
As the hairs inside my nose prickle in the frozen wind
The winter air presses hard against my lungs.
And I gasp…
Today, no one passes through these gates
Guarded by the old sundog
Not on his watch…
He gazes towards the horizon
And knows his watch is ending soon.
The alpenglow begins to paint the parting skies
With Tahitian punch against the crystal blue eternity above.
And in the foreground
Stacks of white precipices covered in the whitest snow
Loom down on the earth below.
As the wise old moon
Who never looks older than he did the day before
Glows brighter than he once did
Gazing towards the gates of Heaven.
Now, it is his watch
He will certainly be more forgiving of the darkness
As the gates swing wide open
To welcome me into Heaven.
Showing posts with label Poetry. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Poetry. Show all posts
Wednesday, February 4, 2009
McKinley
I drew my gaze from the quiet summer lake
And turned in awe toward her majestic presence.
As she stood silent, yet omnipotent
Of all that occurs in her shadows below.
She is a force of nature
That can bend the wills of most men
And break those of the rest.
Yet, countless continue to ascend her towers.
I stare off in the distance
And her form interrupts the horizon
With jagged, snow-covered peaks.
Did Heaven just drop her to earth one day?
Her presence has claimed the lives of many
And will claim many more before she is done.
Yet, they return to her each year,
Just as a child returns home to his mother.
By somehow conquering her massiveness,
They have proven their worth as athletes, as men.
But have they proven to this awesome force
That their lives are truly worthwhile?
I watch the clouds gather around her peaks,
Just as sheep gather in a herd.
And I ponder her next victim.
Will she spare another?
And turned in awe toward her majestic presence.
As she stood silent, yet omnipotent
Of all that occurs in her shadows below.
She is a force of nature
That can bend the wills of most men
And break those of the rest.
Yet, countless continue to ascend her towers.
I stare off in the distance
And her form interrupts the horizon
With jagged, snow-covered peaks.
Did Heaven just drop her to earth one day?
Her presence has claimed the lives of many
And will claim many more before she is done.
Yet, they return to her each year,
Just as a child returns home to his mother.
By somehow conquering her massiveness,
They have proven their worth as athletes, as men.
But have they proven to this awesome force
That their lives are truly worthwhile?
I watch the clouds gather around her peaks,
Just as sheep gather in a herd.
And I ponder her next victim.
Will she spare another?
Silent Winter Solitude
As the frozen albino ashes flitter to the ground at the end of God’s fury,
All is silent in the streets.
The heavily laden gray ceiling seems to exude
A most forceful pressure upon the earth.
I inhale the winter air into my lungs
While the fine hairs in my nose prickle to attention.
And my eyes begin to tear and burn ever so slightly.
The icy breeze paints my cheeks with the faintest blushed rose.
In utter solitude on the moon’s vast nothingness
I stand alone on a winter street.
No life among the slate gray concrete that disappears into infinity.
Just as the empty satellite revolves around us in endless loneliness.
I turn around to gaze north up the city block.
My eyes then shift towards the full moon in the distance whileCold emptiness stretches
All is silent in the streets.
The heavily laden gray ceiling seems to exude
A most forceful pressure upon the earth.
I inhale the winter air into my lungs
While the fine hairs in my nose prickle to attention.
And my eyes begin to tear and burn ever so slightly.
The icy breeze paints my cheeks with the faintest blushed rose.
In utter solitude on the moon’s vast nothingness
I stand alone on a winter street.
No life among the slate gray concrete that disappears into infinity.
Just as the empty satellite revolves around us in endless loneliness.
I turn around to gaze north up the city block.
My eyes then shift towards the full moon in the distance whileCold emptiness stretches
Arctic Christmas
Ice crystals dance in the flow of the Christmas moon.
The snow crunches beneath each stem
And the howl of the arctic wolf echoes through the night
A pebble ripples in a glacier pond.
Then silence.
The north wind calls
And he turns his gaze towards home.As the lighthouse guides the ancient mariner
Home from his voyage.
He too is guided by the Christmas moon
Home to the cabin nestled in the arms of the giant Spruce.
The faded glimmer from frosted panes of time
Embrace him in warmth
And he knows he is home in time for Christmas.
The snow crunches beneath each stem
And the howl of the arctic wolf echoes through the night
A pebble ripples in a glacier pond.
Then silence.
The north wind calls
And he turns his gaze towards home.As the lighthouse guides the ancient mariner
Home from his voyage.
He too is guided by the Christmas moon
Home to the cabin nestled in the arms of the giant Spruce.
The faded glimmer from frosted panes of time
Embrace him in warmth
And he knows he is home in time for Christmas.
1968 Disturbed
The infant doesn’t know
But the pain his father carries
With him is full of death
The memories don’t fade.
At two, the little boy recognizes
His father has changed.
Carrying a burden of darkness
Full of dread.
Distracted by the mounds of dead.
Eyes dart towards his son of five.
Uncontrollable, volatile, unpredictable.
Anger and violence welling inside
A dirty little secret is held close.
To have started the fires and silenced the moans.
Missing limbs and broken bones
Surviving through the death groans.
He sees a boy of ten
Anxious for his father to leave and go to work.
For this disturbed soul to be gone.
The trench of distance deepens
As the boy waves good bye to this stranger of a man
A son for a father is traded away as he
Cries from within for his father’s sins.
All grown up and a soldier too
His son leaves home to make his father proud
To a world of lost daughters and sons
Whose fathers crept through rice paddies with guns.
Don’t forget your morphine shot in case you get caught.
Jungles of land mines, flanked to your right.
Another soldier is lost in this fight.
But the pain his father carries
With him is full of death
The memories don’t fade.
At two, the little boy recognizes
His father has changed.
Carrying a burden of darkness
Full of dread.
Distracted by the mounds of dead.
Eyes dart towards his son of five.
Uncontrollable, volatile, unpredictable.
Anger and violence welling inside
A dirty little secret is held close.
To have started the fires and silenced the moans.
Missing limbs and broken bones
Surviving through the death groans.
He sees a boy of ten
Anxious for his father to leave and go to work.
For this disturbed soul to be gone.
The trench of distance deepens
As the boy waves good bye to this stranger of a man
A son for a father is traded away as he
Cries from within for his father’s sins.
All grown up and a soldier too
His son leaves home to make his father proud
To a world of lost daughters and sons
Whose fathers crept through rice paddies with guns.
Don’t forget your morphine shot in case you get caught.
Jungles of land mines, flanked to your right.
Another soldier is lost in this fight.
Kashwitna
His soft, brown eyes
Flecked with gold
Framed in velveteen.
He watches my every move
With anticipation.
I roll over in bed with sleepy eyes
To find his chin resting on the edge of my bed
Greeting my face with a lap at my cheek
Waiting for me to say the word.
I am everything to him,
Unconditional love and devotion.
Uncontrollable loyalty.
The hairs on his chin twitch.
He looks at me with an understanding
That spans his existence.
Whether I awake from a bad dream in a cold sweat,
His love is always there.
Waiting with his warm, soft, pink tongue,
Ready to flick it across my cheek with an affectionate kiss.
Flecked with gold
Framed in velveteen.
He watches my every move
With anticipation.
I roll over in bed with sleepy eyes
To find his chin resting on the edge of my bed
Greeting my face with a lap at my cheek
Waiting for me to say the word.
I am everything to him,
Unconditional love and devotion.
Uncontrollable loyalty.
The hairs on his chin twitch.
He looks at me with an understanding
That spans his existence.
Whether I awake from a bad dream in a cold sweat,
His love is always there.
Waiting with his warm, soft, pink tongue,
Ready to flick it across my cheek with an affectionate kiss.
Greatness
It is not appropriate to measure one’s greatness
By evaluating one’s morality.
By assessing his adherence to certain religious beliefs
Or to experience his talents or personal strengths.
We are not obligated to judge his passions
We simply ask “is one better off to have known this man?”
And, then and only then if the answer is a resounding “yes”
Do we know the answer to our question of greatness.
For a man’s greatness is only measured
By whether those touched
Are better off to have known him at all.
My father was an imperfect man.
He had his faults and made poor choices.
But he was truly a great man,
For I have never met a person whose life was not made better
By simply having known my father.
By evaluating one’s morality.
By assessing his adherence to certain religious beliefs
Or to experience his talents or personal strengths.
We are not obligated to judge his passions
We simply ask “is one better off to have known this man?”
And, then and only then if the answer is a resounding “yes”
Do we know the answer to our question of greatness.
For a man’s greatness is only measured
By whether those touched
Are better off to have known him at all.
My father was an imperfect man.
He had his faults and made poor choices.
But he was truly a great man,
For I have never met a person whose life was not made better
By simply having known my father.
Surfer Boy
Billabong shorts riding low on his hips
A green Heineken bottle in one hand
He grabs his board from the back of his rusted Toyota pickup truck
And heads to the shore.
The rhythm of reggae music bumps from his FM radio.
His toes meet the sea foam and
He gazes out over the break
As a ship’s captain would watch the sea.
He turns north and feels the gentle trades
Brush the locks of curls resting on the nape of his neck.
He anticipates catching that perfect set
While the sun prances across the water.
Rising up and then easing down
The face of perfect turquoise
With a dust ruffle of white bubbles
He doesn’t falter
Paddling back out into the vast blue
He contemplates perfection
And realizes that this life he lives is all he needs to
Make him whole.
A green Heineken bottle in one hand
He grabs his board from the back of his rusted Toyota pickup truck
And heads to the shore.
The rhythm of reggae music bumps from his FM radio.
His toes meet the sea foam and
He gazes out over the break
As a ship’s captain would watch the sea.
He turns north and feels the gentle trades
Brush the locks of curls resting on the nape of his neck.
He anticipates catching that perfect set
While the sun prances across the water.
Rising up and then easing down
The face of perfect turquoise
With a dust ruffle of white bubbles
He doesn’t falter
Paddling back out into the vast blue
He contemplates perfection
And realizes that this life he lives is all he needs to
Make him whole.
Jennifer Dies in Jail
This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen.
Alone, cold and afraid.
Lying on a two-inch foam pad covered in plastic
Smelling of urine, sweat, vomit and feces.
This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen.
The concrete floor radiates cold, gray nothingness
Up through the pad and presses against my warm cheek.
I can’t lift my head nor move my arms.
My head pounds and my heart races.
This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen.
My screams burn in my throat, but I can’t speak.
I try to call out, but my lips won’t form the words.
Why doesn’t anyone come?
Please don’t leave me here.
This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen.
I’m a mother, a daughter.
I have loved and I have been loved.
I matter.
Don’t just leave me here.
This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen.
My lungs are heavy and I am tired.
Sleep beckons to me in the dark.
A single, bright bulb burns above me,
Glaring at me like a judgmental guard.
This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen.
My body dissolves and becomes part of the concrete below me.
Movement is beyond reach
I feel the light slowly extinguish
Darkness swirls into the cell like rolling waves of smoke.
This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen.
I awake, but instead of lying helpless
I look down on myself
From outside the poisoned body full of liquor and pills
A stranger now…who is that person lying on the floor.
It’s me.
I abandon my body like a hermit crab moves out of his shell
The pain is gone, as is the cold and dark.
I look to my left and I see it!
The most beautiful, brilliant, warm light.
Its outstretched arms glisten in beams of absolute perfection and splendor.
The love of every mother for her daughter
Welcomes me into its embrace.
Love, Light and Beauty.
And to my daughter, I say, “Please forgive me.”
Alone, cold and afraid.
Lying on a two-inch foam pad covered in plastic
Smelling of urine, sweat, vomit and feces.
This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen.
The concrete floor radiates cold, gray nothingness
Up through the pad and presses against my warm cheek.
I can’t lift my head nor move my arms.
My head pounds and my heart races.
This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen.
My screams burn in my throat, but I can’t speak.
I try to call out, but my lips won’t form the words.
Why doesn’t anyone come?
Please don’t leave me here.
This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen.
I’m a mother, a daughter.
I have loved and I have been loved.
I matter.
Don’t just leave me here.
This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen.
My lungs are heavy and I am tired.
Sleep beckons to me in the dark.
A single, bright bulb burns above me,
Glaring at me like a judgmental guard.
This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen.
My body dissolves and becomes part of the concrete below me.
Movement is beyond reach
I feel the light slowly extinguish
Darkness swirls into the cell like rolling waves of smoke.
This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen.
I awake, but instead of lying helpless
I look down on myself
From outside the poisoned body full of liquor and pills
A stranger now…who is that person lying on the floor.
It’s me.
I abandon my body like a hermit crab moves out of his shell
The pain is gone, as is the cold and dark.
I look to my left and I see it!
The most beautiful, brilliant, warm light.
Its outstretched arms glisten in beams of absolute perfection and splendor.
The love of every mother for her daughter
Welcomes me into its embrace.
Love, Light and Beauty.
And to my daughter, I say, “Please forgive me.”
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