Showing posts with label Poetry. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Poetry. Show all posts

Monday, June 8, 2009

More old poetry - this was written while I was watching a lunar eclipse and listening to Sid Barrett-era Pink Floyd ...


ECLIPSE

Look at the moon and rejoice

You children of the Most High

Colors flying – corona is blue

The sky took a bite

Wound in its side

Dripping x-ray light

Like Jesus on the cross

Dripping blood and water

Fog on my glasses

Makes crystalline glow

ten miles wide


Blue to white – music to match

Sound pouring from speaker to moon

Friday, June 5, 2009

Digging through some old stuff, I found some attempts at poetry written back when I was in the Navy (84 - 93) - some of it is pretty dark, since time at sea could be hard, but an interesting look at that time in my life. I'll post some of them, but individually, with a few comments: often they make no sense without a bit of background.

This one was written while aboard ship, in the middle of the Indian Ocean - and they had decided to do a "Lobster and Steak" night for dinner. The lines had gotten quite long, and seemed to take forever - and when I finally got some food, the steak was still frozen in the center!

Impressions (Dinner at Sea)

Lobster & Steak makes two hour break

From boredom to boredom again

We’re standing on water – we sink or we swim

We’ve been here since I don’t know when

With Jimmie & Davey & Lee is here too

We stand in a permanent line

Maybe by midnight we’ll begin to move

And then we can sit down and dine

Will the food make us croak, or just make us choke

Or maybe collapse in a heap

My eyes start to close, the Lord only knows

If I’ll ever get any sleep

To smell it is frightening, to taste it enlightening

On methods of poisoning men

‘Cause it’s just the right shade to be Deadly Nightshade

Yet here we are eating again

If this ditty scares you, or maybe impairs you

From eating a nice quiet meal

Say us a short prayer while we’re floating out here

Lord willing, our stomachs will heal!

Thursday, May 28, 2009

Two seemingly unrelated bits of information:
I served in the Navy for 8 years.
My wife loves owls.
Early last year, I saw a bit of news that - strangely enough - made a connection between the two!
Fod gets lost
Hiding in a strange place
Alone, afraid, shivering
Vibration and sound terrify
Surrounded by the unfamiliar
I must find the darkest and safest spot

Sudden movement, not mine
Noise gets louder, overwhelming
Cries of panic burst from my beak
Moving objects shrink my dark, safe spot
Creatures in brown and green move around me

The creatures search around
Are they predators hunting?
If they find me will they eat me?
I am too frightened to fly away
In fear I lose control and screech aloud

One of the creatures hears
And looks where I have hidden
I am seen and arms reach for me
Gently I am enfolded by them
Taken where the noise and vibration cease

Monday, May 11, 2009

A Poem


I was recently introduced to Abbey of the Arts - a blog by Christine Valters Paintner. She hosts a "Poetry Party" online - using a photograph to provide subject matter. Many wonderful poems get posted in response - well worth a look!
This time around, the photo is of a dragon - a gargoyle or guardian - from Riga, Latvia.
Please take the time to read her description - I wouldn't want to simply copy and paste - and what she says is well worth thinking about.

Being who I am, though - a dragon collector - I just had to write about it.

For those who care about such things, I chose to write an odd combination of two poetic forms: three stanzas of interlocking Rubáiyát, with a Limerick inserted between the second and third stanzas - as far as I know, an original form.

The Watcher - a Rubayick

The watcher guards the portal true
a blade of steel, a bow of yew
permitting nought an evil spate
allowing life and blessing through

The watcher sits beside the gate
accept, deny - for neither wait
the ruling comes with no delay
decision swift is watcher's trait

In watcher meet welcome and warding
The joining of giving and hoarding
the giver accepts
receptor projects
in each is the other a-borning

the watcher made the open way
He passed through night into the day
He will reopen Golden Gate
Eternal truth He will display