The Dream Stream
I transfer the rods energy from slack to a hell bent back cast stroke,
The line straightens, teeth clenched…..I push the casting arc forward.
My delivery is spot on, dead drift fly traveling the same pace as the current,
The trout’s jumping rise brings on a grin and the caddis hatch is on.
I look up stream and catch a glimmer of another heavy hatch of trichoptera,
Grandpa’s eyes search for mine and finding them he flashes a toothy smile.
“Having Fun” He shouts….I nod my head emphatically and give him a thumbs up.
And we keep it going until darkness prevails and the hatch finds sanctuary.
We walk and talk all the way home and I can’t remember a better time.
And now I have the honor of teaching my own son this gift.
Generation after generation it’s our duty to pass down our experience & know-how to the next.
And just before I close my eyes tonight, I recall this quote…
“It is not flesh and blood but the heart which makes us fathers and sons”. F. Schiller
- K.E. Carman 2016
Yesterday morning I woke at 4AM again
And once more my mind got churning.
I juggled with some words in my head,
Composing free verse on how I write my poems.
I wondered whether I should grab a pad
Or even get on my laptop.
But I made myself go back to sleep,
Forgetting it all.
So here I am,
A day later at 10.30AM,
Pouring out these verses:
A sort of Stream of Consciousness.
No thought of structure
Just emphasising certain words and phrases
By giving them separate verses
Of their own.
Something I learnt once
When reading a book in Pudsey Library
About how to teach kids to write poetry
An easy way.
Unfettered by considerations of metre or form,
You can express yourself freely,
As deep as you wish.
Just let your emotion
Let your words cascade
Over those shiny pebbles.
Babbling along through winding willows,
To crash over waterfalls
In a crescendo of sound.
A stream that sparkles in the light
Of sun or moon (and stars),
Wafted by scents of abundant flowers
And sappy cut grass.
God's Grandeur radiating all around.
So here I am writing without really knowing what to say
Letting it all flow, whatever is here. Blank space, blank mind.
Oh wait, it is filling up again. Fill up O' mind, fill so I can write and express.
I have no idea what I am doing, why am i doing this?
Writing and writing without much purpose, or is there a purpose?
Reading over previous sentences not even recognising the author
It's me! I am the author.
Is this even poetry? What is poetry? Who are poets? What classifies a poet? Aren't we all poets?
Some poets in motion, some poets in emotion. Nature is poetry right? Surely.
And here we go again. I got a blank mind, again... Still blank..... But is it really blank? If I am recognising that it is blank, then is it truly blank? Who is this person commenting on the blankness? It's still me.....
sometimes i do not know where my life is heading,
where the roads are leading me.
i know my mind travels through space and time,
through shining galaxies of wonder and ripping black holes,
meeting at the ends of the earth with a crashing wave.
but i do not know whether there is a lighthouse nearby,
whose light shines me a way out of the dark,
pointing to a place where i can rest my aching bones.
i do not know which colour my soul is yet,
still picking away at the palettes that change every day.
sometimes i do not know whether to laugh or cry,
and why sometimes it is best to do both.
sometimes i feels stuck, like a box has caved in on my surroundings,
metal, not cardboard, so even the mightiest of pokes can't break its surface.
sometimes i feel time draining away from me,
slipping through even the tightest of grasps of my fingers,
disappearing like an air of smoke in a misty lake,
and i cannot swim fast or hard enough to catch it.
and sometimes i feel like i am wasting my life,
and the smiles, real and pure, of everyone i meet, determine one thing:
they are using their time wisely, happily.
thoughts of storms do not linger in their brain long enough to shatter the roof and let raindrops pour down their eyes.
and i don't know whether to feel jealous or sad,
or cast feelings away altogether until i am nothing but a shell.
but most of the time, i do know for sure,
i am just always unsure on how to feel.
I long for the trees
Sun shade and sweet breeze
Beauty to bring you to your knees
I long for the trails
Made by animals with little tails
With imprints in the dirt from their nails
I long for the streams
and the things that it brings
Little fish, frogs, and other things
I long for the birds
That make their song heard
Cheers and lullabies without any words
I long for the boughs
The bark is comfort now
Like a friend that's always around
I can only see the Surface
Of the Stream of Shoppers
In Cherry Creek Mall.
I see their faces.
I see the shapes of their bodies.
I see their hairstyles.
I see their clothes.
Cannot penetrate their souls.
I can make no deductions about their character.
However, something about this Human Stream comforts me
Just like Mountain Streams,
Which are only a few miles
To the West.
Life is an endless stream of strange and wonderful events
At times our sweet dreams take us to palaces being in tents
We face realities of life with harsh and sweet comments
With relentless efforts even we can't repair ugly dents
Soul makes us cry heart takes to other external extremes
From sheer darkness at times we get enlightened beams
Our unfulfilled wishes come become colorful in dreams
Men with clear intentions make teams with proud esteems
Let take a fresh start with heart and soul blank neat and clean
This is how we can kill our intentions mean to be evergreen
Be aware of evil on scene and to abolish it fully from screen
Be cheerful and realist to face reality make virtue your routine
Col Muhammad Khalid Khan
Copyright 2016 Golden Glow
here are the things I never said to you
I don't know why we're fighting
i want you to love like I do
I'm trying my hardest not to stare
at the screen of my phone
it's not a picture of you
I want it to be
I'm doing better though
I don't think I need you
I just really want you
no matter how many times
you upset me
and pull the trigger
I'm just drunk
and you're what I want