Dreams and Cosmic Flows
A flutter of eyelids, ah, a quick path to sleep. How long until, if at all, to dreams and cosmic flows? (Does one have the soul of an artist? ) - The canvas of night unravels in less than predicable or perfect forms. - Dreams. - Cosmic flows. What is the answer to my -? I forget the questions. - Oh boy, here comes the ride. The flow of brushstrokes and sculpture's clay shape a new beauty. - Faces of people are seen and unseen. - Past residents of earth depart while future friends assemble. Memory is a tricky thing in sorting out which is which. - Familiar faces blend with faces masked.
The Mighty and The Almighty
The mighty and the Almighty What with God have we done? As a nation we certainly have fun But with countless and many blessings Perhaps have we forgotten Someone? He who entrusted us with these rights These privileges and opportunities Should we therefore live selfishly? Seek to carve out for ourselves only A name, fame, wealth, and acclaim? On the contrary, we have a responsibility A higher purpose as a great nation eternally Certainly no less as it pertains to the earthly For we are a nation humbly birthed and built by God Over other less fortunate peoples and lands we should not Think to heartlessly take advantage or carelessly trod While we handsomely prosper, we must remember God He above who blesses us with His amazing divine love He who prospers us plentifully and cares for us generously Enlarging our influence across the globe internationally As we grow and our influence show, let us not arrogantly Boast prematurely or take our role of leadership lightly Instead let us in service and devotion move ahead purposefully Not lord ourselves over others, or usurp from brothers needlessly Let us not disdain, nor despise, those we behold with our eyes Precious peoples and nations of other religions and ideologies Need not presumptuously and ruthlessly be labeled our enemies Before we hastily seek to demonize, wage war, and bomb let us talk Let us walk to the table of diplomacy with arms open wide hopefully In hopes that peacefully we can discuss our differences sincerely Gain understanding mutually and learn of one another graciously Build for ourselves a better global community, where all dwell securely Free from tyranny, cruel dictators, terror's evil, and corporate masters Let the mighty who profess liberty also prevent foreign policy disasters Remember the Almighty lest we as a nation become Fatherless bastards.
Questions on Poetry From the Smart Guys!
On a radio program last year I was asked several questions, and at a presentation I was asked several, a few the same. It seems to me lots of people are asking questions about poetry nowadays, and one of the questions was: "Why to I write more poetry than anything else? " Well that question seemed to be kind of repugnant to me, so I asked "Why not? " And he said, "It doesn't sell, and there isn't that big of an audience out there! " There I sat with my wife, and the radio commentator, and thought, and I'm sure he thought he had me stumped, I saw that smirk on his face. And then I said, "Why do you have me on your program then, and why did you tell me, several universities are listening, and did you realize in the past several years more and more books of poetry are being sold every day, poetry has had it comeback, and it is not over.
Undeserved Dignity - Unwarranted Responses
Not everything my beloved friend Deserves the dignity of a response Some comments and probes for information Are malicious intending to lead only to infuriation Character degradation and personal assassination Therefore don't respond unless you enjoy the pond Of putrid mediocrity and frail intellectual curiosity Bent heavily toward evil and salivating for perversity Don't carelessly open wide the door to Satanic activity Lucifer's reckless use of words to record for the media Causing mass insecurity, turmoil, tumult, and hysteria Refrain from prematurely speaking and save yourself From wickedness and its tendency to happily entertain With things those with morality would rightly disdain Fortune and fame are not worthy of such grotesque talk Pack your bags, arise, remove yourself, and take a walk Away from such gross fellows, who would seek to tantalize Subtly seduce, gently sway, and turn your eyes to fantasize Flattery you endlessly until they get what they want from thee After which they walk away immediately, caring not for thee Neither considering the pain they cause as they profit handsomely Therefore don't let men make merchandise of you, use your words to Paint a false portrait, erect an illusory picture, and the public allure With tasty morsels of lies, falsities, accusations, and hallucinations Sound bites that render truth impossible, creating words implausible Making what you said to be utterly offensive and virtually unbelievable Yet through repetition and shocking response, they do belittle and taunt Engage the general public in widespread discourse in an attempt to divorce Divorce them brutishly from you, your candidacy's ideals, and ruin you too.
The Song of the Train
It is a lonely song, the song of the train. It echoes on my heart- strings-a proud song of America. Three blasts sound the horn and I stand tall, waving to the engineer-his day just begun with his manifest. I get a brisk salute back as the freight rolls onward into the night. I watch America before myself. Carloads of scrap-things that once were and soon will be- heading to the smelter. Closely joined are protected cars that haul the steel when finished. Finished automobiles fashioned from steel rumble onward. America is a fortress of progress. Each car that rolls by testifies with its cargo its contribution to this progress.
O New Earth - All Rights Reserved
Out of my way! I own the world That is the word Tolle's ego's gone But mine's here to stay After all I'm Oprah Winfrey Yes, God made the earth But He didn't trademark it Make the monetary connection The alphabet has been here Quite a very long time Yet nobody trademarked "O" Until I thought cleverly of mine Hmm, yes, feels oh so good Like a young woman should Pastor Joel Osteen wrote The book Your Best Life Now But I the trademark queen Truly have the know how Uh, oh, is the pain body awake? I thought so when it's time For a clever entrepreneur To aggressively claim their stake The Oprah Book Club isn't for all Certainly not a young man named Paul Because I don't have $50, 000 to blow Excuse me to invest and participate I'm just a poor boy without opportunity Though honestly I truly love Oprah dearly What saddens me is the lack of ingenuity The missing creativity and bold audacity When I wish to employ a brave new idea With gumption and unprecedented tenacity Publishers and professors often play it safe They fear companies like Harpo will sue That's right and utterly break the bank Therefore it seems expression is nonexistent Bridle and bit come out with the legal department Soften your cutting edge, lessen your sharp blow Be kind and courteous to the deep pocked host I certainly intend to be respectful and courteous For Oprah to me is likened unto a minister of God I don't hesitate to stand for Oprah and applaud Yet don't quench my creativity and over me trod Because I too know the Creator, a.
Two Poems - Man On Fire; If I Walked With You In The Garden
Man on Fire Red flames descend from the sky, Burning into the depths of his eyes, And crackle as they engulf his hair, In tongues of fire. The eyes, the eyes, stare out in Placid indifference, while all around Tongues of flame lick at the very air Combusting in the night. No stars here; no limned moon; No serene reflections on the fiery Pools below; only fire and burning, And passion sleeping in those lidded eyes. Saint or madman? Artist or lunatic? Does it matter to a man on fire? Can mere words express the desire That fanned the flames into a conflagration, And set the canvas alight?
A Handful of Maybes - A Poem Sharing the Doubts that We All Share About Life
Maybe there is a God. Maybe we were never meant to live this way. Maybe there is such a thing as true love. Maybe we're all crazy, and normal is only an ideal that is out of reach. Maybe we should've taken that escape... or maybe we shouldn't have. Maybe we'll never be happy... or maybe we are happy and we won't realize it until later. Maybe philosophy is an idea that got out of hand... or maybe religion is. Maybe we shouldn't have acted so quickly on an inhibition that failed to stay strong. Maybe I let my guard down. Maybe we experienced too much in too little time... or maybe we didn't experience enough.
Two Poems - For A Sunday Afternoon
1) The Sun, and Coffee at Starbucks The sun has no door today-but it's looking for one; its face is in the window-slightly, it has white bright knuckles this afternoon- It drags its Sunday rays along the profile of my face. The trees outside, from where I sit, across from me through the window, are porky-pine green, and beyond those, are peach colored balconies. I'm at 'Starbucks, ' Benavides: the walls have long stretched out pictures, of a weird coffee pot, tables, circles, coffee cups, and musical things, things like horns and notes, and so forth...! My latte is strong, I like it like that, and I sip on it, while reading: Shelley, Dylan Thomas, and Plath.
Happy New Year!
A slice of time in the annals of human history Just a descript piece of time, An interval large enough, Yet small, An expensive piece of time, What a time! ! New Year the completion of one global revolution Yet the beginning of another for millennia over and over again The measure of a change in the formation and destruction In the progress and retrogress In the generation and degeneration In the decay and emergence In the birth and death of billions and trillions In the appearance and disappearance Of matter from and in to nothingness New Year 3651/4 days gone Yet another one just began To measure change that will happen In another full global revolution Around our warm, bright and beautiful sun To give us an accounting of what will not and what will happen To fill our statistical data of how many died and how many born How many chromosomes fused?