You arrived at a time when the times were a-changin'
Tangled up in blue, blowing in the wind
A simple twist of fate when the world needed saving
One more cup of coffee and your at it again
Like a slow train coming
Under the red sky
Holding back the wicked messenger
With God on our side
You gave us shelter from the storm
When life gave us buckets of rain
To this day you continue to warn
We're still only a pawn in their game
Hope to never say goodbye
On a night like this
May you stay Bob, forever young
These lines are all titles to some of my favorite Dylan songs...
Taking liberty with some to help them fit...
Sometimes a butterfly flaps its wings
and elsewhere someone gets wobbly knees,
because he is just about falling in love with anything.
He’s on the verge of tears and on the brink of bliss.
Now this could be a monk dreaming about transformation.
If so, I guess, he ate too many sticky sweets last night.
But the story goes further: At the very same moment
the butterfly leaves the flower and surrenders to the wind –
flabbergasted, the universe holds its breath:
Are its wings strong enough for the invisible force?
There, the monk wakes up with wobbly knees.
How courageous, one must admit.
And all of a sudden the monk has butterflies in his stomach.
Things get mixed up here, he thinks, and he tries
to fall asleep again – but (un)fortunately he can‘t.
i sat free-wheeling by a lilac bush
and shook the wind with a sigh
and pricked my brain with a thorny thought
as a starry-eyed peace tumbled by.
At first,
Love was captivating.
a beckoning temptress
with lips whispering compliments
and desires and promises.
And then,
Love was unbridled.
a stallion galloping across terrain
the wind in his mane
vivacious and carefree.
At times,
Love was insecure.
spilling tears and confessions
fearing scorn or withdrawal
twisting with pain.
Of course,
Love was confident.
beaming with adoration:
ostentatious jubilance or
a quiet security.
Strangely,
Love was alone.
ripening and explorative
discovering the importance of
Self before other.
Perhaps there’s no one True set definition
and those who try
to grasp for dictionary restrictions
ultimately fail.
are you ?
that's when the wind changed, when i asked. it dropped the last last of a thousand afters -
and wrapped the tinsel laughing in the foyer of our discotheque.
that's when the elder proof took root in the cognizant. bore fruit and [ clasped rafter. ]
and perhaps a winsome blasting... though annoying, it's our affect.
but are you ? yet ?
and who's left to true ?
disaster ?
the cool stone his breath, he digs
hoping to find what he is longing for
the shimmer of a gold vain? sure of what they said
o how they told him long ago
so he blisters, too deep to remember, and how long the depths
the pick axe worn thin, blood and bone and steal and will
rip into the next swing, and cold chunks of stone
fall onto cold chunks of stone, piles, drifting in two and three
...wanting gold
to dig into a swinging party this deep must be a farce… yet
his hands no longer blister, and finding love brief and wonderful,
wild flowers in bloom, a field of holly, the most beautiful
dancing, the sway and whimsy of a ball surround
wind harps sweet air; the beat of the drums stead fast
and after the waltz, the moon walks them home,
knees… begin to ache, the weight of her beauty sore,
her pedals fall against the shores of lapping tides
and fading dreams…
and the longing for gold remembers him
….....deep underground, he awakens to hands blistered dry, now laying beside… detached
knees worn away, and his arms too… just pain the mind reassures
leaving his limbs behind, he must be close… this body to drag, is at least a bit lighter now
for the journey is another mouth full of dirt, the warm carbon against busted teeth
a broken inch crawls into light, the eyes struck blind and his tired tears do not stop him…
still the warm glow, somehow a reminder of the past, an old guide longing to meet him...
and something ancient still looms behind him too, a trail… the thick shadow, of fresh soil
so thoughts convince, to the center of the earth
or maybe a candle, that knows not that it shines,
the warmth he has been longing for, the shadow of dust behind
told of gold, sets off into the soil, and deeps the cold stone
and the cruel trick! or so he thinks, there is no gold down here at all!
just his warm laughter…
and the light ahead…
and the dung behind…
and the earth worm
continues to dig
with a smile
less than an inch away...
from summer grasses
and blooming
goldenrod
In the suburbs,
I am driving through the dark heat
of summer night
in a luxury car I don't deserve
to a house that is at least three times too large
In the suburbs,
I am a college graduate,
headed to medical school
and I won't pay for that either
so the remainder of my school fund
is being spent on pettiness
Which is what much of it went to already.
In the suburbs,
my phone flashes
with your neediness.
You shouldn't have left
but I was never there,
not for you or your friends
whoring around
at these high school reunions.
In the suburbs,
all we have are the scraps
of memories,
of trembling hands on breasts
and sticky fumblings
in cars
cloaked with sweat,
of drinking in dark basements
that stunk of our young, bad conscience,
of halcyon days
In the suburbs,
the wind licks from my tongue
the scent of alcohol
but throws dust in my eyes.
In the suburbs,
I switch off the headlights,
and race along the blackened asphalt
as the moon lights the way overhead.
.........................................................
September warmth is in the air,
That playful tapping
Of the breeze
As it winds its way
Through the laurel trees
That line Eastwind,
And finally
Up over the cobbled stone
Of Mr. Willow's
Sarsparilla Soda Shoppe.
And there he is,
Outside his storefront
Sweeping away leaves
And dust
And late afternoon
Cigarette buts.
Jabe's running around
Like a bobber,
Up and about the yard,
Kicking at the nectarine tree
And demanding it
Drop its sword
And surrender.
And Annie tells on him
Right respectfully,
Pointing all the while,
Letting Momma know Jabe's
Gonna get himself hurt
Again if that tree
Ever gets mad.
And Dad's outside
Cleaning the windshield on the car,
Eying every streak he misses
And then giving it a name
I'm not supposed to ever say.
He hits the car again
With the garden hose
And washes her off,
Suds and soap splashing
Against the concrete
Of the driveway
As Momma hollers out
At Jabe to get his rear end
Back in the house
And get himself ready.
I go in and change my shirt.
It's hot, the best kind of hot,
And the sky is clear,
And the Summer air smells
Like a barbeque. The best
Parts of Summer always seem
To come when you're heading
Into other things - and if you
Don't keep your wits about you,
You'll miss 'em. They'll just
Wisp away like dew in the
Morning. So I get a clean shirt,
Change my shoes,
And grab my sweater
And head out.
And there's Momma holding
Onto Jabe's hand, and he's
Not too pleased. And Annie
Is holding her SusieQ Doll
And wondering about the fuss,
And Dad's smiling and shutting
The hose off and finishing those
Last few brushes across the
Windshield.
In just moments we're all tucked in,
Windows all rolled down,
Heading up the highway away
From the sun. Momma's got
Her pointy sunglasses on, and she's
Holding her hand out into the wind
Like a movie star. And Dad's
Shifting gears and putting his arm
Around Momma, and I see
Airplanes taking off not too far away
In an open field, those kind you pay
Three dollars for a ride on, and
They swoop you over the town
And you get to see everything lit up,
And you get to puke in a paper sack.
But that's not where we're going.
Dad just drives right on by, and
We watch as the planes and their
Pilots and the little fat kid with the red
Hair disappear into the haze.
Further up the road the lights of the town
Gently flicker away, and the sun
Rests over the horizon, and stars
Peek out overhead one by one, watching
Us I suppose, keeping an eye on the
Shiny not so new car with the three
Streaks across the windshield Dad
Missed.
And the wind picks up just a little,
Still warm, still alive. And I stick my head
Out the window just to get the wind rushing
Across my face, through my hair.
Nothing like wind racing through your hair,
I thought. And I was right.
The horns brought me back to reality,
And up ahead I saw cars waiting in line,
And there was laughter, and the long
Tall green wooden fence lined the road
Half way to forever and back again.
Inside giant white unpainted signs
Stared at you, and as we pulled up
To the old man smoking on what was
Once a cigarette, he asked how many
And Dad said two adults three kids
And the old man peeked at us inside
And Dad paid a few dollars and we drove
Inside. Slowly, up and down and up again,
Like a sea of black asphalt. And Annie
Giggled.
Dad finally parked, and the car was
Facing up, like it was reaching up
Into the sky, except that the big white
Signboard was in our way. And outside
People were happy, had their radio's on,
Jumping, running. Other kids were there,
And we wanted to get out and run around too,
But Momma said hell no. And Dad kissed Momma
And got out and left us, and the dark grew,
And I breathed in the scent of hot dogs and
Cotton Candy and Popcorn and Pretzels and
French Fries and Hamburgers and it was
Like Heaven.
Seemed like forever since Dad had left,
And Momma got out and hoisted up a metal
Box onto the back window right beside me,
And then she got back inside and closed her
Window some. Annie asked Momma what
We were waiting for, and Jabe shoved his
Sling-Shot into my ribs and said "Stick 'em up."
And I took it away and tossed it into the front
Seat, and he cried.
Then the giant posterboard lit up some, and
Mentioned a snack bar, and I wanted to go.
After that they showed a Popeye cartoon,
And Dad made it back in time to give us all
Something to eat, say shut up, and take his seat
Up front.
I'd never seen a screen so big. Never knew Popeye
Could punch Bluto and still be nice to Whimpy.
And we laughed, and the warm wind tapped against
The car, and radio's quieted down, and everyone
Was drawn to the giant picture. And we laughed.
Annie and Jabe were both asleep by the time
Dorothy made it back home. And she was telling
Aunty Em all about where she'd been, what she'd
Done. And they rolled a bunch of names,
And Dad said so how'd you like the drive-in?
And I stared at the big screen with bright,
Wide eyes, wanting more,
I didn't want the words to stop,
The story to end.
All I said was that's the biggest tv I ever saw.
And it was. And I was right.
And I guess that's when Dad
Had to laugh at me again.
Copyright © 2012 Richard D. Remler
Those guns were a lullaby to the world you left behind.
“Life’s too short if you ask for mercy. Because dying never ends,” you said
Like a whisper too late
We're all bombs in reverse
than can be seen from outer space
The world is a firing gun--
"My pain is my defiance. It's no longer a scar," you said
close to death,
The riot ate us alive
And I believed you.
I really did.
Everyone's holding onto the world
like it was a grenade tied to their veins
Voices, tiny earthquakes,
all their hopes and fears that might send the sky to blow
It was left to burn
in slow-motion riddles.
a long winding road of the torn up lives that were left behind
I felt your sound
Like a whisper too late
"Your heart is eternal as the sky--even as you feel it breaking."
My tears falling wind chimes -- they left a presence in the air
And I believed you.
I believed you.
I really did
When your voice was the last bomb
that I ever felt.
In the instant I knew
My soul broke the sound barrier
And I was home
in the fire
I swore that I must've heard
"Madness is the god."
"Sanity is a lie."
"Love is the truth."
That only the fire
could ever find.
Things that only death
could ever speak of.
The sky so blue
My eyes behold
A man approaches
Wind and sun
--
His gaze so clear
He has seen
The earth
Below
The people everywhere--
---
WATER!
We need!
WATER
--
(His gaze so clear
Earth and rain)
He has lived
1000 years
----
Water
---
The blue sky
--------
Come
You know what I mean
THE EARTH IS SACRED
&
YOU ARE HERE
Sacred water
For
The
Fields
