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st64 Jan 2014
(oh, if you don't like lengthy-reads, do not read any further.. thank you)





how I long to hear you
I am silent now
just like you



1.
from the curtain rail, hang paper-butterflies in gentlest-breeze
you made for us in vacation-time
we loved living and being with you
      so quiet and so serene
never loud, nor ever shouting
you gave us the love we often had to steal at home


2.
dear lady, when our parents couldn't cope
they dumped us at your door
you took us in for days on end
and how we flourished in your care

momma in her perfumed get-up.. always out and about
I couldn't stand her smell
she hardly took the time of day.. to get to know her own
they quarreled all the time
one time, we saw her pull in ugly-anger, a knife on him
      and he punched her hard in the face
      we-took-it-in.. the three of us
      they saw us standing there, looking on
I tried to shield the younger ones' eyes
but the lesson sank in.. thickly


3.
so, off to you.. we got bundled, like hastily-wrapped parcels
and you took us in
and we gleaned the worth of stability

you spoke to us in quiet-tone:
right, now we will read.. alright, my dears?
    we responded with three silent nods
    eyes up at you.. like open-flowers
    our smiles inside slowly blossomed
as a powerful-routine came to life

sit us down near koi-pond in the yard
     after milk and choc-chip cookies
     green dappled shade-cloth overhead and potted plants
she opened up a book - Gift from the Sea.. and she read
     we listened with rapt-souls, open and accepting
     drinking in the delight of her well-intoned voice
she tempered that sickly-void with deep-respect and lasting-admiration

how we filled the hours with your special-technique of patience
        we discover life.. along with title and the author
        one buck to read the first sentence of a new book
        two for first paragraph
        five for first page
we earned a keep to last a jolly ol' lifetime
looked forward to the end of every weekend
when we'd spend the week with you
off to school, you saw our tiny-feet and welcomed in the afternoon
      warm greetings with firm hand, discipline fell in place
      but when chores are done and homework, too
that's the time we'd settle quietly into the routine you set so well

cushions at the koi-pond and each one gets a turn
granny-dear, granny-doer.. you took the time
you read to us and we read to you
and then, we read to one another.. while you did your tasks
        we learnt of the classics and many obscure artists, too
        writers' names became familiar; we discussed at length
        and from your fine library, came three very well-fed beings
who each had a jar filled with love-pennies and mind-notes

tranquil-nap in dimmed-room in the afternoon
eyes sunlight piercing through in stippling-slants on polished wooden-floor
we fell into peace

thinking expanded beyond the lore of words
you'd engage the width of our seeker-imagination with so much
         drawing fine-lines into the unknown
         and paper-mâché and Rorschach-ink
         and let us see how earthworms could be useful
         and transplanting our seedlings from disposable egg-cups
by my teens, my special botany-project grew: orange saplings
how the time, it flew.. weeks and months.. years..


4.
then, one day, our momma said.. no more time at granny
          we questioned and we queried, but to poor avail
          evasive-looks met our searching eyes
and vague answers, even poppa with the *****-glaze didn't talk
we failed to swallow their awkward-energy

the three of us could take no more: affection interfered
      and I took two buses and snuck out to her place
I crept in silent, found her resting
but her eyes were covered up
      her face had blue blotches and cheeks were puffy
sharp-inhale!
      I shrank perforce and cried inside.. and softly touched her hand
she woke up, startled and turned away
     but she knew it was me; she'd learnt my smell so long ago
bowing my head, I gently wiped her brow with unscented-towelette
and I saw her shoulders shaking
she quietly accepted my comfort


5.
the routine continued, thankfully
after we got wind of what really happened
how you were mugged in the subway on your way to work
you've lost the use of one eye and you now slump on one leg
this fall in health did nothing to dampen your ardour
       we read for you when you could no longer see at all
       and when your pensioner-status made you penniless
       you rewarded us with hugs pressed into the psyche
       our night-time pitter-patter slipping to you from nightmares
       and you stitched our broken-pieces and sealed our cracked-assurance
never finer devotion bred from hands so kind


6.
you let us read and it sparked the mind
the penny kept on rolling with great success
long after you left
    my brother now lectures in languages
    and guest-speaks at many places of higher-learning
    and my sister became a lawyer
I became a drop-out early on, but I never sold my dream
I struggled with their help.. yes, I know.. I was always slower
and melted-crayons still do yield.. colour in the twilight of cool-eve

yes, and I bought a farm not long ago
and I tend my own keep
granny, you'd be proud of us
three silent nods to an angel in disguise


now, I stand here.. quiet in my beautiful-orchard of oranges
              stare at the leopard-changing shadows on the tiles
and long to read for you
so, I open up a dream lying next to my koi-pond, an auburn-tail flicks handsomely
and it all spills forth in reams..




can you hear me now?
in silent-vow, I unveil the finest of my heart-words
to you..




S T, 2 January 2013
man, what a day.. what-a-day!


sub-entry: thank you

.. for reading!

;)
st64 Jan 2014
the sun's a dying star
yet how bright its shine



I am your star
hope to shine on through the night
the silence speaks its words of direction
like a light on your back
you flywheel your steps into the dark


you take silence by the hand as it leads the way
the moonlight in night-time sky winks affection
and you catch the wave in time


and rolling that piece, the die is cast
as
this dice has your face on every side




you are a star
and you shine so bright
you are the star
to align the hidden light*





S T, 2 Jan 2014
yeah, happy new ear.. !

so..

hmm.. start of a brand-new year..
well, may your aims be bold, your accomplishments quite grand and your ruins glorious :)



sub-entry: maximum support

grab hold of the very moments
which offer
that maximum support

ultra-revel in the backbone
of decisive heart

see the new age dawns
giving birth to endless possibility

get ready to catch it
when it comes!
st64 Dec 2013
the farewell of the magical-masque
           the dance of the whirlwind
           the twist in valediction
a pantomime of comedy dripping in life’s heat, its tragedy blooms forlorn
silently the mountain-ranges stare
the sky-face won’t relent and contemplates the open-disease in homes*


1.
disguised as simple relief – rescue lies cooing in the palm
     crumbling in blue-ash beside your grinding-palate
     you reach for pen and paper to appease an entity unknown
shrouded in grey, no scavenger can touch the head of one
who carries blessings in the scabbard – the present worthy of now

stairs are slippery, fish are mouthing, anger grows
     symbols hop along outrageous, so stylised and signs come in decisive
     all at once, almost
there is some purchase in the widening-valley
when climbing-feet need to rest on your narrow angular-will
and wait.. (before them chips rain down)
until the merry-turnstile comes in view


2.
the worm-wheel goes blank a while
and out tunes a dastard-and-devilish prank, courtesy of blunted-fate
sacred-fillies get hacked at by small silver things and they lie slaughtered on stark-plains
and the orb dips in reverse this time
a sooty-traveller from the western-flank
               glances out at massive-figures at supine-rest
               gets startled by the rude ***-fire
eyes slit and pates distort in hostile-fever
at the starling-ingénue in mock-fatigues and fake-epaulettes
but cheering up with wry-humour makes your feet
           a touch too slow to react in time
           and the halberd comes crashing down
well, the last thought you hold before your next one
is how utterly beautiful she looked at the station
long, black hair – silky-shining in your eyes and gay-dancing in the wind
when she passed you all her sweet-love from eyes so wet and smile so quiet
and selected dried-fruit in redolent-parcel
                                   a sealed pelt-skin of unmixed-whiskey
along with fresh-baked raisin-bread in cotton-cloth
                    coarse-sliced and buttered so generous
and
a semi-rusted dry-tin rattling its bounty of macaroons through that smudgy, ***** window
what sweet-victuals to keep alive . . .



man, that journey is a long one!


                             (I’M STANDING HERE        oh, you just know I am here

AND YES -- I’M WATCHING YOU                        
                                                                ­               and no use looking round now..
      YOU CANNOT SEE NOR HEAR ME  
                                                                ­               or begging a purty-release
                                                                 ­                                             
                                  oh easy, boy.. EASY!!)                                                          ­                            
                                                                ­                                             
                   ­                                          


3.
once more, the worm wriggles in microbial-distaste
and the season’s wheel comes dangerously close to being undone
IT DOES
and seconds later, cogs fly hard in every fool’s direction
and luckily.. you catch some in your face.. mouth agape
        crushing your tongue
        splintering all your dental-treasure
        smashing half your reason
no time for moaning.. or eroded-regret.. or even to feel your lips in ribbons
for, when they turn their backs, you will know
what to do..


because you’ve picked some pearls the hard-way..
that atonement could well appear in spells
of any shape
or size




not so?





S T, 30 dec 2013
beautiful in the mountains.. Jupiter enjoys the odd (but needed) breeze along with sweetness of Nature’s sounds  :)



sub-entry: ten times

you get ten times to refract your pain
mind your head now
the ceiling’s low
the parchment’s dry
and then some..

wait a little while.. it all comes round :)
st64 Dec 2013
standing at water's edge
good-bye, momma - I'll always love your straight-face discipline
goodbye, poppa - whose handsomeness I never knew nor saw




nobody'll see me camp out alone on the common
tiny-tent to keep my limbs from cramping morning-mist
maybe some stray-mutt to be (f)ears to intruders
perked-up coffee in tin-***
and baked-beans from a tin, I'll share my bounty
with the dog and bramble-bush




I'm not afraid if the dark
   which waits in timely-blocks
   never overwhelms
I'll meet that sky at midnight and greet the stars in bloom
   their twinkling-smiles will warm my eyes
   and scoop away all lone thoughts
I'll siphon inspiration from the sighs of flora
   inaudible yet felt
I'll huddle not away from any lesson
             *even second-hand





my weapon will be prayer
mouth-***** tests the waters
sends a tentative trill into heightened-silence
      rippling on surface
      embracing the dark
Joe felt that God was there.. the boss
fussing over all his creation
yet, he felt alone on the pier that day
with not one soul..
        to stop the tides from swallowing his tired-life
        to love the gauche-grit inside his gifted-cage
        to hear the silent-scream of fretless-agony
        to sense the dripped-disparity of favour
turning face upwards and smelling fresh sea-salt
he closed his eyes so slowly
and let the wind rip it away from him..




nobody had heard him play Bach on his guitar
finest poignant tone
all the suites and minuets in glory to the one
    yet among the many passing, there was one listener
    a quiet boy whose senses touched celestial-note
most mothers warned their children to stay away from Joe
save this lad to inherit misunderstood genius-scribbles
as Joe's blue book held more than just music of old-siècle
to be legacy in the talent-hand of open-heart apprentice



and my penciled-in landscape grows incisors
from the sharpness of your colour
as I camouflage my strained-song
in seeming-vibrancy of words
merely purloined from the deepest
of
your quiet-sighs



S T - 20 December 2013
so much of brilliance remains undiscovered.. shine on, you crazy-diamond :)
st64 Dec 2013
for the growing angel came to visit Earth


1.
beautiful wing-span of such width, white and strong
with powerful-light in the eyes beaming out gentle-rays
hover in the sky’s energy who welcomes this pacific-source

wondrous-silence of the trees and the splendour of the sun
merry-chirping of birds and the secret-gift of the breeze

whispering messages in air-passages Man can no more sense
the angel looks forward to see more of God’s *beautiful creation
….


2.
and the (lucky) angel is granted the benefit of several landings…..


(on school-grounds)
click.. click.. the sound carries beyond the window
hoisting upward, the bright-light climbs onto the ledge
strange sight to see a grown man taking pictures of a boy
oh, perhaps he is a photographer
but why then, the boy with fear in eyes, has no clothes on.. ?


(on college-grounds)
kick.. kick.. spit.. spit..
young people tumbling around on the ground
perhaps it is a game
no, why then blood on the girl and many sneer-faces beating with brooms.. ?


(at end-of-year party)
presents gaily-bowed are exchanged and smiles offered
but silent-sniggering as the semi-inebriated time the punch-moment
perhaps, this is all jolly, yet some end up hurt and run in shame
no, why engage in harm as this sick-comedy prank gone wrong..?


(in a darkening alleyway)
two young women rush to catch the train ...


(in a young child’s bedroom)
an aged-man makes a routine visit...


(in a moving vehicle carrying a family of four)
vicious arguing in front of children… car veers off…


(in a kitchen where a single-parent feeds two kids)
communication to one kid via another....


(on a construction-site where dust lives comfy in lungs)
on the back of poverty, the well-to-do whip some more.....


(in an overcrowded crèche, gummed-eyes of innocence look up to keepers)
hasty-feeding in queues and abed thin-blankets on cold-floors....


(outside a liquor-store, them who succumb to numbing-promise)
many cold down-the-nose stares on the passed-out ....


(in a geriatric-home, hours before her family turns up)
squeaky rubber-shoes get reminded to do offhanded-cleaning of *****-smells....



3.
angel, you learn much… fast



4.
the boy looks to the window, prays this comes to end
how many more months of this horror
couldn’t even tell his mother of the stern-teacher....
did he sense a grace-light there.. by the window?
(he cannot be sure)
when lightning strikes one heart of one


the girl finds a higher-voice in the grit of courage
redeeming others before their pending-fall
by breaking the ugly-code of silence



5.
(we are gathered here today, dear mourners
to remember our esteemed colleague…)


(what a massive turn-around for that bully-group..
no-one can believe their many sudden-good deeds.. )

and..

a young mother breast-feeds her baby
a father teaches his son to read
a teen helps a crippled-man cross the road
an artist inspires ghetto-kids with free-tuition
a politician privately oversees a park for kids
an addict finds his answers in time
an adult uncovers vital-clues in his deceased-parents' albums
a doctor goes beyond duty's call
a neighbour eases suffering of beloved-pet




6.
dear angel.. / / / what have you learnt?
hazard lurks on the edges of existence


dear God.. / / / was I once there?
oh, what have you created?


dear human.. / / / no words, only benedictions
for tears don't feed the poor




and once, an angel came to lift the grail-heart of purity
thank you, angel

you poor thing.. see how you lift off on heavy singed-wings and..
fly home to grace









S T, 18 dec 2013
hmmm, yes.. perhaps angels can bear the face of anyone ------- who will be the wiser?




sub-entry: mercy-walk

mercy me, oh mercy my..
please.. come take a soporific-walk with me?

oh, mercy be walkin' with me.

:)
st64 Dec 2013
she wanted to be a blade
of grass amid the fields
but he wouldn't agree
to be a dandelion

she wanted to be a robin singing
through the leaves
but he refused to be
her tree

she spun herself into a web
and    looking for a place to rest
turned to him
but he stood straight
declining to be her corner

she tried to be a book
but he wouldn't read

she turned herself into a bulb
but he wouldn't let her grow

she decided to become
a woman
and though he still refused
to be a man
she decided it was all
right


by Nikki Giovanni






S T  ..... two's-day :) 17 dec 2013
a tad windy on this day.. it tries to rip me thoughts away.. lol



sub-entry: slight-breeze

raking the corners of probable guess-work
the slight-breeze plays up and renders all bowing
dust in eyes, is it?

if pain be the currency of pleasure, welcome to the ever-teasing elements
of all the gems decked out from the universe's treasure-chest
you will always be..
the finest theft
I almost ever got right

bright and bold
the moon spins round
and dances on in good hope
into the arms of flail'd-amnesty
st64 Dec 2013
such a cool dude



1. on believing
There are those who scoff at the schoolboy, calling him frivolous and shallow. Yet it was the schoolboy who said "Faith is believing what you know ain't so."



2. on genius
Thousands of geniuses live and die undiscovered-- either by themselves or by others.



3. on bereavement
A man's house burns down. The smoking wreckage represents only a ruined home that was dear through years of use and pleasant associations. By and by, as the days and weeks go on, first he misses this, then that, then the other thing. And when he casts about for it he finds that it was in that house. Always it is an essential-- there was but one of its kind. It cannot be replaced. It was in that house. It is irrevocably lost.... It will be years before the tale of lost essentials is complete, and not till then can he truly know the magnitude of his disaster.



4. on mischief
I see that every man that went in had his pockets bulging, or something muffled up under his coat--and I see it warn't no perfumery either, not by a long sight.
I smelt sickly eggs by the barrel, and rotten cabbages, and such things; and if I know the signs of a dead cat being around, and I bet I do, there was sixty-four of them went in. I shoved in there for a minute, but it was too various for me, I couldn't stand it.



4. on conscience
I thought a minute, and says to myself, hold on -- s'pose you'd a done right and give Jim up; would you felt better than what you do now? No, says I, I'd feel bad-- I'd feel just the same way I do now.
Well, then, says I, what's the use you learning to do right, when it's troublesome to do right and ain't no trouble to do wrong, and the wages is just the same?



5. on superstition
I've always reckoned that looking at the new moon over your left shoulder is one of the carelessest and foolishest things a body can do. Old Hank Bunker done it once, and bragged about it; and in less than two years he got drunk and fell off of the shot tower and spread himself out so that he was just a kind of layer, as you may say; and they slid him edgeways between two barn doors for a coffin, and buried him so, so they say, but I didn't see it. Pap told me. But anyway, it all come of looking at the moon that way, like a fool.



6. on escape
I reckon I got to light out for the Territory ahead of the rest, because Aunt Sally she's going to adopt me and sivilize me and I can't stand it. I been there before.



7. on hypocrisy and religion
We all went to church, about three mile, everybody a-horseback. The men took their guns along, so did Buck, and kept them between their knees or stood them handy against the wall.
The Shepherdson's done the same. It was pretty ornery preaching -- all about brotherly love, and such-like tiresomeness; but everybody said it was a good sermon, and they all talked it over going home, and had such a powerful lot to say about faith, and good works, and free grace, and preforeordestination, and I don't know what all, that it did seem to me to be one of the roughest Sundays I had run across yet.



8. on simplicity
Jim said bees wouldn't sting idiots; but I didn't believe that, because I had tried them lots of times myself, and they wouldn't sting me.



9. on humanity
Let us consider that we are all partially insane. It will explain us to each other; it will unriddle many riddles; it will make clear and simple many things which are involved in haunting and harassing difficulties and obscurities now.



10. on army
That's what an army is -- a mob; they don't fight with courage that's born in them, but with courage that's borrowed from their mass, and from their officers.




                                                            ­                                       *by Mark Twain








S T - 16 dec 13
love the boldness of Twain.

not everybody's cuppa.. but hey, see me crying? nah :)






sub-entry: unicorn

a knock at the door
grey figure opens.. very, very tall

1.
slits of tall-eyes concierge perusing hooded-newcomer bearing gift
furtive-eyes in a head over-drilled with equations
the visitor waits and watches
intently catching the distant-tinkling of a child's laughter
peeps round the bend..
twinkling-eyed gramps giving gifts to grand-kids round the tall-tree

2.
silver-hair leads the way slowly up plush carpet-steps, all deep-red
not aware how regal-opulence glares at the hungry-livraison
of ornate wood-patterns etched into the sides of the box
a single hair-strand is the currency to secret-entry
the most unlikely-key stands in the doorway
upon the head of the child, it needs but one length
with tweezers, silver-head places in painstaking-tremors
there's a light-whirring deep inside and click, click, click..
the sides flay open like tiny-wings
and then, it's right there.. it's opening up its secrets
the old man, who waited all his life to see this.. almost has a glimpse
when something happens..

oh my, what is it ? ? ?     (gaping in disbelief)
it's........ the unicorn
oh! you may leave now, thank you
but a swift-stab leaves silver-head spluttering
holding onto his neck as his life-force spurts away, uncontrollable
                                        in violent-spasms
tall-eyes quick-senses an iota amiss within its radar-view
from the running-steps down the muted red-stairs, cy-dog barks
out the front-door, in pursuit of dodger-stealer who drops the flick-knife
into wide road, sudden-bus whacks him down
tall-eyes look down into the eyes of a dying man
(what have I done?  I needed only two minutes more to.....)
now, quick....get away, get away... !


3.
mythical twist as plot thickens
the box lies there, distant-sirens wail
eyes slit, instantly calculating
hot on heels of this reliable lean-machine
cops push the limit and close the corners
a volley of shots and he.. falls
box tumbling to the ground, rolling a bit.. then stops
red-lights flash remotely, like a dream caught in cold-syrup

with one shoulder now missing and half his head on the sidewalk
he hobbles with the gift to the bridge, his sensors pick up the bleat of the ferry
and he manages to...
...........................and throw it in the frozen-lake
its weight breaks the cracked-surface
                and sinks.. slowly.. down
                                  down
                     down
          down
down
                                               d o w n..

there, it rests in peace
till..


one year later, a young boy tests the safety of that frozen-water
stomping feet to keep warm and face clad in half-balaclava
a sight unlike any other meets his eyes.. and..
(when) he stoops to reach for it..
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