O, What Shall I Name You?

Drifting on an ocean
On waves of emotion
I met a man upon the strand
Where the water meets the sand
He left the shore to be with me
Gave up his life in the deadly sea
Of love
Of love
In the deadly sea of love

To my shame, I didn’t ask
He gave no name, just did his task
Now I carry his unborn child
It will grow up fatherless, wild
In the empty sea
Of love
Of love
In the empty sea of love

O, what shall I name you, my unborn child
When from my womb you’re spilt?

O, what shall I name you, my unborn child?
I think I shall name you Guilt.

The Ferrous-Wheel

I might be pushing the definition of junk here, but I was reminded of this pseudo-sci-fi poem I wrote a while ago about a love affair between a man and an animatronic theme-park robot after the theme park has been left to fall into ruin.  Sadly, it is a love that ends in tragedy when she, too, begins to fall apart, but I thought it might be worth digging out of the junk bin and polishing up a bit for your reading enjoyment.  Thanks for visiting!

Down at the fun park upon the broken ferrous-wheel,
She kissed me with her rusty lips and offered me a deal:
“Disintegrate with me and we will scatter on the breeze.”
As she asked me for my answer her joints began to seize.
In the silence at the frozen zenith of the ferrous-wheel’s ascent,
I heard the tall brown grass below us sighing in lament.
I turned to her and took her hand as her paint began to peel.
I sadly shook my head and said, “I am not made of steel.”
She clenched her jaw and shut her eyes but still the black tears flowed,
A lonely silhouette on the ferrous-wheel when I looked back from the road.
Though it broke my heart I walked away in a rising cloud of dust -
I could not bear to watch time’s alchemy turn our love to rust.

A Movement Of The Heavens

My brain
Is stars and charts
Planets and parts
It stops and starts
In a circular pattern
Like the rings around Saturn
And Saturn is my heart

My heart
Is comets and quasars
Light years and lasers
Sunbursts and tracers
A nebulous galaxy
As far as the eye can see
And the eye is my soul

My soul
Is a map into mystery
A pathway through history
It is writing a list for me
Of possible answers
To the questions like dancers
And the dance is my life

My life
Is stretched out ahead of me
Laid out behind me
Anchored in between
And it pivots on this
My comprehension of a kiss…
And the kiss?

The kiss simply is.

Posted on www.sundayscribblings.blogspot.com

Cheese

On top of Old Smokey
By subtle degrees
She stole my edam
And left it to freeze
Back in the factory
A government mule
Gobbles his cheddar
While perched on a stool
If you are hungry
Bent on your goal
Some mozzarella
Is good for the soul
But if you are happy
Or caught in a sneeze
Maybe try sharing
A bite of that cheese

An entertaining little bit of nonsense rhyme for www.sundayscribblings.blogspot.com

Ravenous

I wake up at midnight, my jaw unhinged
Yawn wide enough to fit the whole world in
The center of me is a black hole, rumbling
Not yet fully aware, I find myself stumbling
Into the kitchen to rummage within
The cupboards collapse and go into a spin
Sucked down like liquid poured into a tube
Event horizon of teeth, shelves empty of food
I turn my attention to the silver fridge
It crosses the distance as if on a bridge
Rapidly vacuumed into my omnivorous maw
The house is consumed (neighbors cry out in awe)
I eat all that exists, in the blink of an eye
And still I am hungry, and still I must try
To feed the black hole, the grumbling void
Until I wake up in sweat, starving, annoyed

Sleeping Dragon

Summer in the dead of night
Kings on broken glass
Sleeping dragon takes a bite
Spits him out at last
Climbing high and circling
Like vultures at a feast
There’s a fire grumbling
In the belly of the beast
Towers tremble in the storm
Lightning strikes the hill
If one is always travelling
Then the other surely will
Gremlins in the alley groan
Laugh and flash their teeth
In the darkness of the labyrinth
Hallucinate for weeks
High on wise old shadows
Within the hollow ruminant
Ancient creature slumbering
Upon the wealth of graduates
Beneath the starry skies
Across adumbral grounds
He followed the ghostly cries until
His body could not be found
Rumors persist until this day
His ghost still stalks these halls
Every now and then, you know
You can see him in the walls
Reaching out for someone
Something that can’t be seen
But time and space and ignorance
Built a barrier between
Then and here and now and oh
Oh, what might have been…

 

This piece is based loosely on my new job here in the north, working security for a college campus.  Walking these halls in the dead of night, it’s easy to imagine strange things are dwelling around every corner… so I let my imagination wander.

New Shoes

It is a two-headed beast
With seventy-six eyes
Though presently
Nine are blind
It is a four-legged thing
With wandering feets
And four hands to rattle
Every door that it meets
It has fifty-two keys
Hear it jingle and sneeze
Its footsteps will echo
For it is never at ease
It has fifty-two keys
Hear it jangle and pace
While throwing its voice
All over the place

Poet’s Lament

Here’s a poem I wrote about trying to write poetry… I’m sure anyone who has ever attempted to write anything can relate; writer’s block is a universal curse of those desiring to be creative, I think.

Poet’s Lament
Lost my mind in a wagon rut
Fell into a swoon
Got the curse of wanderers
From howling at the moon
Storms are gathering up above
While the grumbling thunder rolls
Gulls are crying on the wing
But the lightning never falls

Adulthood

I want to be an astronaut,
A jet pilot, a bird.
I want to be an author,
Who wields the weighty word.
I want to be a fireman,
An arsonist, a fire.
I want to be a magician,
A walker on a wire.
I want to be a warrior,
A dragon in the den.
I want to be an explorer,
A gold medal Olympian.
I want to be an educator,
A musician, or a vet.
I want to be that crazy man,
Who owns a hundred pets.
I want to be a pioneer,
And an inventor, too.
I want to be a lover,
And loved by one like you.
I want to be a child at heart,
And see the world with awe.
I want to be an adult, yes,
But not right now, mama.
I’m having too much fun with life,
I’m only twenty-eight.
I see no risk of growing up,
Too little or too late.
As long as I keep growing,
Learning, laughing, alive,
I know I’ll be an adult,
Before it’s time to die.