ship’s haven

it had been a dark and stormy day in the small fishing port of ship’s haven. a forgotten town barely clinging to its rocky shore with rotting timbers.

most lights remained lit during the day. the heavy rains had passed out to sea leaving behind a damp, chilly and blustery night.

residents remained inside their homes all day. few had reason to venture out during sheets of rain. night brought different reasons to feast upon their fears as they continued staying behind locked windows and doors.

no one with clear thoughts would be walking streets littered with puddles this night. streets mostly shrouded in sea mist.

anyone out possessed nefarious reasons. those that can disappear in between the randomly placed light poles with dim illumination.

compounding the poor lighting, half seemed to be out. while others irregularly flickered on and off. unnerving already frightened people  that much more.

the collective fear and knowledge was not everyone would remain indoors. winds of the cold night called the others to wake. they would appear, yet never be seen. only heard. in coming days their handiwork would be discovered scattered about.

those at sea were safe. those trapped on land knew what the churning waters meant and what soon would be spit out….

tales with twists, terrors
believable unknown fears
live deep in our souls

always a time comes
when a decision is made
of which to follow,
childhood or adulthood dreams
smart ones pick floating castles

time gives no quarter
for time is the ferryman
his vessel sails light

deep into the night
enjoyment is the stillness,
with a single light
undertake this time to write,
good, bad or so, so
i care not, joy just matters,
known this is not my calling

i moved to key west
when told to lower my salt
life in florida

private doubts

parts are needing a change. to become willing and learn the art of letting go of worries and history. ending the useless scenarios of looping the unknown. moving past the fearful prospect of stepping out of the zone. overcoming all those that create meaningless stress.

it boils down to avoiding the usual suspects. great discomfort and embarrassment. mostly embarrassment.

easing the mind’s mantra of never can the wall, the facade, or curtain become compromised. never can the real person become known.

usually, nothing really bad ever comes after days of needless worry. some discomfort, but not truly bad.

i know this. i see this. i get this. frustration lies in knowing but never being willing, able, or understanding how to overcome.

learning to believe in myself. moving past trust issues. because it will be all alright. it will be all ok. it will turn out fine. maybe not as hoped, but it will.

taking to heart what luke tells rey, "this is not going to go the way you think."

casting private doubts
worried becoming exposed
is a daily fight

on the horizon
pushed onward by salty winds
sails in florida

all day rain fell soft
dusk brought air thick and steamy
within night’s darkness
first fireflies of summer flew
as dancers of the night air

for a day they say
it’s your birthday, not so fast,
to me, it’s more an
anniversary, one long
past the diamond jubilee

fireworks soar tonight
rockets of red, white and blue,
oooh’s and aaaah’s
between bangs, booms and thunder
rejuvenates our resolve

looking at a sky
blue and white, i am grateful
to just be alive

a sun disappears
behind a low horizon
summer solstice ends;
starting tomorrow six months
of shortening days
ending in long winter nights;
cold winds have begun
cutting deep into my bones
a frostbitten nose
ice fingers around my throat;
soon summer is spent
then another year has passed
our final winter draws near

achieved the art of
becoming extremely quiet

achieved the art of
never wishing to engage

achieved the art of
wanting to be left alone

achieved the art of
becoming a wallflower

achieved the art of
wanting to be overlooked

achieved the art of
dreaming of things never done

achieved the art of
comfortably holding back

achieved the art of
observation, listening

achieved the art of
living as an introvert
with peace of heart, mind, and soul

spinning stars, planets
gears powering galaxies,
floating night machines

fleeting time becomes
running late from place to place
dealing with something,
when softy she asked, please, come,
sit awhile with me,
quietly, time simply stopped,
gently holding hands
feeling pained by having time
while hers now is short,
exchanging words while shadows
danced slowly across the floor

you heard the call
signed your name
drilled then went off to war,
so far from home
to do your duty
to do your job
to fulfill the mission,
you came home
home as a hero to all
 
you say the real hero's
never returned
i can not debate that point
i was not there,
in our eyes
you are a hero just the same
 
saying only you were doing your job
carrying out the mission
protecting your buddies
as they watched over you,
completing a pledge
made among each other
a lifetime ago
 
you obeyed your oath
while performing a sacred task
fulfilling that pledge without hesitation
making sure any fallen buddy
returned home
 
home to their country
home to their land
home to their family
home to their remembrance
home to their resting place
 
having completed far more
then was asked of you
to a grateful nation
you did return,
home you came to me
for eternity to stay
never leaving my side ever again

into sidewalk cracks
small seeds fall, reappearing
white flowers of peace

tanka 4.1

two floors down, a man
died suddenly this morning,
recently moved in
never met him out walking
never did learn his full name


tanka 4.2

true in his future
had many windows replaced
the labels still cling,
this morning, two floors down, a
man died, nothing could be done

within nature’s realm
no imperfections exist
what is, nature meant,
imperfections, play of words,
growing, flowing, rewriting

black wings are spread wide,
cormorants, anhingas dry
plume in coral sun

the sun knows, out there
are more powerful forces
but it keeps spinning,
radiant in life without
a care in the universe

wide-eyed cats dream each
night of catching bright, full moons,
gazing mesmerized
scrutinizing its movement
leaping until morning sun

ignorance is bliss
it also gets you eaten
by the crocodile

uninvited winds
from the northwest came, but not
upon kitten paws,
they played and they fought, with their
fun spent, the world was no more

rains fall, palm trees sway
lighting flashes, thunder rolls
storms in florida

time stopped, held my breath
skies cleared into azure blue
all had become right

wind chimes hang still, quite,
hummingbirds dart, hours later
graceful tones play

a single picture
surpasses endless babe
in bold strokes create

it was myself i
needed to get away from
not the element

rains fall gently deep
into the nighttime’s still air
cleansing the world all

broken pencils do write
snapped crayons still color

dried pens never talk
empty toners cartridges do not print

squeezed lemons reveal secrets
chalky chunks mark sidewalks green

introverts reserve their words
in volumes the quiet do speak

if a single stick is questioned
then all must be

undoing life’s belief system
undermining life's foundation

as each stick interlocks
with the next

affecting and infecting
each connected one

all must be undone
all must be rewoven

when i was young
of course i dreamed
dreamed of adventures
dreamed of excitement
what i would do
where i would go
once i grew up

upon the high seas
soaring among clouds
painting desert sands
living by a foggy fishing port

but from the outset
these wondrous dreams
where handicapped
born with a fatal flaw that was me
never would they come true
never to be followed
never fully committed to
never to see the light of day
they would simply die
as my childhood waned

dreams are stories we tell ourselves
dreams are dust in the winds
lost dreams
emerge as cherished memories
like warm july nights

i knew myself

once grown
i would travel to distant places
places nobody had ever heard of
places nobody had ever seen

once grown
i would sleep never
i would eat cake whenever
i would be smarter than ever

once grown
i never became
over 60 years in waiting
i have yet to become grown

happened across a web site
one i could publish
these little poems
of mine

three items required
an account
a poem submittal
accepting the rejection

before a single
mouse click
an internal conflict
of course arose

exposure, no exposure
do, or do not
fears be ******
full submission ahead

yes, that is it
if for no other reason
my sanity
i will be brave just this once

no, wait this is
so far from any zone
comfort or otherwise
against life’s grain, i can not go

definitely not ready
for my close up
having others
reading my thoughts

tuesday would
rather write and
never to be seen
wednesday what the hell

heart beats faster
just typing this out
becoming exposed
never serious until now

this is my head
now going on for days
**** it up buttercup
which fork will it be

click

good choice
wait, what have i done
the debate continues
now long after the deed was done