spouting violets Dec 2014
The shade of the old willow blanketed the lawn.
You sat in its coolness, quietly whistling,
I, a child, asking you
To tell jokes and make funny faces.

The shade must have felt good on your
Cancerous bones, skeletal hands:
You looked content, swanlike
(As those that peck at Stratford),
Whistling away your final days.

Stories of the plane you flew,
Swooping, roaring through the war-wrecked sky.
But I only ever saw you
Swooning silently in your chair.

Eighty years! Old!
Though the moon took a thousand
To climb into the night.
Ilion gray Aug 1
The people
Are going anywhere
where they will wait,
Where the aluminum tops of pop
Bottles crash to earth
Releasing one last
Tiiiiinngg!!!((())))))
A kind of
Musical note...
A single sound through the corridors
Of order-
Watching the wind tease the trees/
Like the fastest boy
On the block,
Subtly walking
Over scattered grey
loose gravel
In the parking lot
Of the park,
Running his
Tiny dirty fingers,
Through
The other boys heads
Dusty and
Stagnant,
Filthy with earth and
Hours,
their
Blood black and  smoldering
Beneath a ceiling of skin,
Every pore
Like a window
Open
Waiting for the
One who knows,
To pass by,
All of them
Believing they
Were chosen.
"duck"
    "DUck"
              .........."DUCK
"GOOSE!!!­"

I watch the wind tease the leaves of trees-
Just this way,
At play,
Aloof
To the price of days,
Each one,
Their own.
Yet, both
The tree
And the child
Are Subtly dying,
Whilst also
climbing,
Closer to the
The sky,
Those ageless eyes
watch
their tiny fingers
stretched high
Reaching beneath
The ribs of wind,
the deepest end
Of the Seas of mid-heaven,
Into the sacred
Waves of secrets
everlasting,
Where
God taught his only
Son to swim.

I also watched,
as the wind teased
The trees that held the leaves-
Each decaying
As they rise
They bend forward like,
golden fields of days
Like sun-beaten blades of grass,
Their giant broken bodies
Like stones
So still,
That at times,
unfortunate seconds
Drifting past
Quietly,
wander
Too long
In the sadness,
Then crash
Violently,
In the silence.

If you ask some of the
people,
They will say
"We are going everywhere,
And yet we have found nothing-
Nothing/
While we wait-"

I have watched the wind tease
Everything,
All that I can hold in my eyes,
There
Where there is life everlasting-
Fingerprints,
Left after
the years wrapped it's hands
Around my neck squeezing
Till my skin began
To die and wither,
Like a brown trout
Tired, and weary
Floating way too
Close to the bank
As the edge of March,
Eat the last days of winter,
Now the evenings
Fall like ash,
Slowly arriving,
Hovering,
Softly
covering my shoulder.
Solemn and Subtle,
Are the fragile ghost
Of years
Of minutes
Arriving always
at the coldest hour
From the woods
That none
Can enter,
Lest you have reinforced your thoughts
With stolen rays of sunshine
Lest you have mapped
Constellations in the
Shattered glass  
From the broken
Windows of your eyes
SassyJ Aug 4
The world revolves and I can't hold it’s pace
neither roll around the unending cycles
may be it is the grey hues polluting my growth
or this age that is fiercely catching up with me

The sun rises and there I lay watching it rays
numbed, unwanted, determined and yet focused
such days I just wish for a lover's touch
I long for that unending lullaby uncorrupt

Sometimes the silence in the pain cascades
It trickles in droplets settling on the morning dew
and I wish to follow its pace, lay in the calm want
be carefree and unrestrained from emotions

I wish I could feel the rhythm of another heart
declare the green sheen of the unfolding leaves
as we lay counting the stars and making starts
laughing aimlessly as the joy surfaces unearthed

But all I see is the hurt of what love bears
the ones who held my soul close are strangers
unable to feel my innate palpable rhythms
fading on and on to a distanced and unmerged shore
Lonely days
Traveler Jul 22
White and woolly
Cotton clouds
Fluently floating by
I take my time
I take a toke
Smoke rings
In the pines

In laughter free
Among the trees
Where echos begin to rhyme
Come and play
Long in the day
The Oak is in his's prime
.........
Traveler Tim

I love the Man and the band!
I have seen you posing in pictures,
But i wish to see you smiling in front. I have heard your sound,
I wish to feel the depth of your voice whispering in my ears.
I have seen your eyes from far,
But I wish to have a contact with the gleaming ones.
I have heard songs sung by you,
I wish to have them as the background music of my life.
I have seen your hands playing guitar,
But I wish to hold them as we step forward with time.
I have seen you only in my mobile screen,
And many wishes still crave for your magical presence.
Next page