today you took me by surprise,
bright smile, dancing eyes,
loosened the noose on yet another lonely day,
wherein the depths of these shadows I do lay,
again, you came a-light,
golden skin, heart a-flight,
taking the time to share some of your life with me,
the very essence of your softly sweet vitality,
beauty, you breathe the skies,
today you took me by surprise

Is this not what it's all about?
Waiting in the wings,
stretching, turning, churning,
anxious and adrenal,
living for the dream,
wishing for the dream,
being
the dream,
dancing on beams,
beneath the streams
of lights and fans,
arrayed like a bird
in tulle, crinoline, silk, satin and linen
white plumage,
acting only on command,
the music soft and flowing
their frail, slender figures
take to air,
arms and legs,
torsos tender,
slender necks,
wisps of downy hair,
melding colours,
sights and sounds,
the stage a pedestal of fate,
their beauty
captured
in gilded cages
for all to watch and see,
recaptured yet again,
by the artist on the easel'd window
of his canvas,
a maestro of sorts,
tapping his baton-brush,
coating the blankness with sweet
inspiration,
like angels heavenly
brought to earth,
serenaded by strings,
life from the blankness begins,
covers the void,
bejewels the mind's eye
and beckons the ballet
rehearsal to begin,
yet shall in oil paint now
and for all time
never cease to be...

"Art is not what you see, but what you make others see."
Edgar Degas

____
Inspired by the painting by Impressionist artist Edgar Degas,
The Rehearsal.
--to view the painting:
http://www.ibiblio.org/wm/paint/auth/degas/ballet/degas.rehearsal.jpg

the hardest part about
writing a poem about you
is that the words tend to
get into the way
of what i really want to
say to
you

All my life I wanted that special someone. Someone who *loves me
Very  much, for who I am. I am so glad I found that person. He's there for me
Everyday and
Night. If we don't see each other, it's on the phone or text.
Gone for a week or two to my sister's doesn't
Even change a thing we still talk. That's our biggest strength.
Depends on the day, but we always try to talk it out. <3

So I would like to say, I found my *soul-mate,
Even though we are "prefect" (whatever that means) for each other and we love each other
Very much, my soul-mate can still be out there.
Everyday you can continue to search, but here and
Now, in reality, will you ever find your soul-mate? When you
Find someone special and you know their not your soul-mate
Of course you have to make the best of it because you may
Lose it and never find another one again or your soul-mate.
Don't give up is what I'm saying, but don't get caught up in finding someone you may never find.

Hold your breath and close your eyes,
wish and dream with me, then sigh,
take my hands to your smiling face,
feel my loving fingers trace,
the very essence of your being,
those softly kisses worth repeating,
that from now on and ever after this,
we shall live our lives in loving bliss.

When the first sweet scent of summertime,
sifted through the sea-salt scented air,
so many things and everything
were bright, light and happy-go-fair,
the Summer Life with you was finally here.

As soon as our bare feet hit the wood bridge,
running from the road up over the dunes,
great grey seagulls squawked, dove and swoon,
we held hands together, one and one
made two,
dash-dancing across the shiny sand with you,
dressed and undressed in our Summer Life moods.

Colours like pinwheels spun like yarn,
flashed and clashed bright orange to blue,
you danced and giggled like a loon,
pulled me up and so close, so close
to you,
that I had to dance, I had to dance like a loon,
I just had to laugh and dance and laugh along with you.

How we played, we frolicked beneath the beachy sun,
belly-surfed upon the waves just for funny fun,
flicked flecks of sand from our sticky picnic lunch,
shared swigs from a big blue thermos jug
of fruity-fruit yummy punch,
sharing and caring beneath the Summer Life's sun.

By evening-tide the air grew cool,
you called me 'lover,' I called you 'fool'
-with a big ol' blanket draped over our shoulders,
we kissed and cuddled, growing much bolder,
falling flat back
upon the mighty mattress of sand,
feeling the mists of the waves licking our hands,
as the Man-In-The-Moon arose and shone,
to dance and laugh with us on the Summer Life's throne.

without you is a lonely shore,
a stretch of sand, a closing door,
where wisps the winds from off the waves,
such mockery of my heart they make.

no matter what the time of day,
i think, i dream of you this way:
hand in hand, at last as one,
sharing laughter, love and fun.

falling with you to catch me,
i am Icarus.

wings of wax.

the man in the air of your dreams...

i can no longer understand how now,
this sleeplessness at night,
when the world is waking in other places
so far away from me,
to the ethereal powders of the breeze,
that paints the morning with its poetry,
as the phantom of the love i love,
causes me to awaken with a cry.

It's going to rain, rain, it's going to rain,
those sleek-silver drops will take me back again,
to those cobbled, winding streets,
the raucous, song-filled pubs,
and the green, the green, the red-brick,
granite and oh! the green,
the steaming Earl Grey tea,
of which i love with a yearning need,
waiting, waiting for me,
on that precious island on the sea.

I

i am so much smaller than you
and i can ever
                            believe...
and you are so much smaller
than you and
i know.

i sit within the winds,
those summer breezes,
some gusty gales, perhaps,
feeling
'the tug
               and toss
of its fabulous force
     rippling
     churning
combing the thinning grey hair on my tired head,
my clothing,
                          so indistinct,
flapping,
                  furling,
floating, --filled with this seen-un-seen presence,
     and i know

a am so small,
and my life so
ludicrous,
like the air
that comes
                      and goes
out of its own control,
but,
                                               i am too small,
and unable
to stop this, its invisible assault.

II


when i am a-float upon
the great lakes, the oceans
the
      rolling
                    rivers
i live
like a tiny slab of flotsam or
     driftwood
sailing
             slowly,
circularly,
(oh-so!) quietly
                                running,
reeling the peeling painted oars of my boat
against
the grainy flashing surface of the waters
                                 rumbling,
                                                                                  rolling
                                                                                       away
this insatiable yearning
to go wherever it takes me to go, but
i know
              i am very small,
and cannot control the eddy's creeping currents-
constant-currents
thus
          submitting
my wayfaring self
to the
unfathomable.

III
__

these trees towering
                                         above me
around me,
the sapling,
the blanketing
                              (in my lifetime)
                                blooming branches
creating
an emotional, outer, physical, inner, spiritual
                              dwindling
like the leaves left shivering beneath the cold winter's frost,
once casually
                falling,
                              dropping,
drying up around my soul
slipping
into silent winter slumber,
to awaken
                     again...
                                    --and then!
(to the dismay of my self-enlightened discovery)
i see
how small
                                            i am
only to return again
from that brownish-moist
soil-bed
                like a seed
beneath
                  the ground
                                        never sprouting,
only fogetting,
the once and always forvever
and ever
the natural
insignificance
                                                                 of being.

How dose your Ship Float?
Corkey Hawley
1982
How dose your Ship Float?

What do you do when
You lose the feeling

When your heart gets
Broken and you need healin’

Does another’s arms
Calm the storm for the night

Or does your ship sink
In the dark and quite

How many holes can you
Put into your ship

Expecting it to stay afloat
While on deck you flounder and slip



CH

New York City alive and
Live’n still

If the roaches don’t
Get ya, the taxes sure
Will

It’s ***** all year and
It stinks as bad as hell
But the actions so exciting
It gives ya such a thrill

1982



You & Me, Baby

You’re a lady
who needs a tender touch
You don’t like anything
That’s rushed….too much

I’ve seen the disappointment
In you eyes
I’ve tasted your tears
When you cry
We’ve been closer than
Any I believe
I’ve stayed longer then some
Should I leave?

You know it’s down to
You and me
Sometimes I think I
Should leave
Buy those baby blues
Plead please stay

Sing for me one more
Refrain for today
Please no more
Rain today

I’m not quite the bargain
You thought I’d be
I’m not as cheap to keep
As I claimed to be
I spent your dime
Take’n my time
Now heartache is the
Only thing I find in rhyme

I’m just that lonely
Guitar picker you found one night
Lookin’ for a home, some warmth,
And a feelin’ that felt right
You’re the one who saved
Me from myself
I could have died lonely
Without any help

When those who called
Them shelves my friend
Were stabbing me in the back
You showed me
that it wasn’t the end


CH ‘82



Street Music

There’s a lot of good people
Play’n music in the streets
Singing really fine for all
Gett’n little change for
Something to eat
They never ask for anything
They mostly sing and play for free
Freeze in winter, thaw in spring
Boogie in summer, the fall they never see
Most people don’t stop to listen
They’re to busy going by
They don’t know what they’re
Miss’n they don’t even stop
To wonder why

Street people play’n music
There’s a lot to pick from
Street people play’n music
Catch a song on the run
Street people play’n music
Lord knows I’ve been one




Wiley Words of Wit
Corkey Hawley  11-79

The hounds are hiding behind
Their burning bushes and
In flaming tongues they find
Some wisdom there in Whitman
And metaphysics in Donne’s
a kind
Of wily words of wit

These flaming, dancing tongues
Bound between the hounds
While beyond all burning tongues
A silver fox is found
Who leads the hounds upon a run
With wily words of wit

The bushes, they have burned
And scared the fox so deep
Now it’s the hound’s turn
To see and feel the heat
As the hounds pursue and yarn
For wily words of wit



Oh The Tropics


Living in the sunny tropics
That would be the life for me
Lying on the sands
With some *** in my hand
Toasting to the stars and the sea

Eating crab meat all day
Watching the palm trees sway
Never give a care for tomorrow
Just living down by the bay

Chorus:

They don’t make a Pinacolada
Like they do
in the South Seas
And the sun don’t shine
Like strawberry wine
Except in the South Seas

I’d strum my guitar on
Some old sand bar
And tan my form in the sun
Lay down for a while, and stay
With a smile until the day is done

Picking fruit form the trees
As much as you please
And taking more then you could eat
Find a friend on the beach
And give her a treat, maybe she’ll
Stay for a week



What A Way to Go

Met him in Seattle, he bellied up
To a bottle tellin’ lies in the Blue Moon Bar
His face was hard and traveled
And, as the lines unraveled I saw a man
Who could laugh about his scars

He said,” I got shanghaied in Vegas
By a painted woman
Hog tied by a ****** in Ohio
Derailed by a dancer down in Detroit
Lord women goin’a be the death of me
But what a way to go”

He said, a girl named Nancy
Once tickled his fancy
And he backed it up
With a fifty dollar smile
He laughed when he remembered
The pain of sweet surrender
But heartaches never seemed
To cramp his style

He said,” I got tongue tied
by a teacher in Tallahatchie
French fried by a waitress in Idaho
Way laid by a widow in Wyoming
Women goin’a be the death of me
But what a way to go”

CH ‘82



This Must Be Love

The sun came shining
Through my window today
Waking me from pleasant
Dreams I wished would stay
Then I felt your body
Next to mine
Warm’n my cares away
I almost thought that
Your love had gone astray

Chorus:
Is this love, love, love, sweet love?
All these feelings I’ve got inside
Is this love, love, love, sweet love?
All these feelings I can’t hide

The sound of, I love you,
is ring’n in my ears
As we hold each other tight
We draw each other so near
All I ever want or need
Are those precious words to hear
But then you know, the feelings
I’ve got aren’t quite clear

Chorus:




Here’s to…

Here’s to the morning light
Which I so seldom see
Here’s to the woman who
Cares for and comforts me

Here’s to the songs I write
Which are so seldom sung
And here’s to every blessed
Little thing I’ve ever done

The night it lasts forever
When I try to find some rhyme
That fits within the meter
And keeps a steady time

I could spend the night
Awake searching lines inside my head
Instead of turning in my pen
And taking comfort in my bed

She never understands
The reasons or the whys
For my midnight madness
Sometimes it makes her cry

I’ve never meant to hurt her
With my all night writing sprees
I just want to leave behind
some songs
A little part of me

CH

When I walk alone and by myself
for a day or two or perhaps a minute,
nothing makes sense and everything does,
and I want to write without words
and love myself while hating me, too,
and prove to you the world is ours
or maybe just yours
when all is paved in pain
like some puzzle missing pieces vital.
But only when I walk alone.

When I have to be with you
for an entire day or a few minutes,
it all makes sense and it doesn't
and I want to talk in silence
and be your friend and maybe more
and prove virility while wrestling the lions
or just by simply holding you
when the tears fall from your eyes
like the blood from one thousand wounds
but only when I have to be with you.

Coffee and Tea, I'll take them both,
Light me up another smoke,
Have a piece of Shoo-Fly pie,
Hear the birdies in the sky,
Take my pen in trembling hand,
Compose some poetry, if I can.