Monthly Archives: July 2016

Above the fray

I want to fly

Above the fray

Above the noise

Of daily days

 

I’m sure to fly above the birds

Above the land

Above the hills of

Awkward man

 

Where mindless numb-talk

Is daily spoken

Where life’s daily going’s on

Is often gone wrong

 

I hope to fly high above

High above lost doves in sun

Above so high

Up In the sky

Only angels can I see

So near, I sigh

 

I’m sure I’ll float

And be assured

I’ll float to where

One often goes without a spoken word

 

 

But if I fail

I’ll slip too far

The warmth I’ll feel

will be Evermore

Evermore beneath the sky

A sky that lives

With no rules of mine

 

And so I think, I’ll fall below

And hope I’ll find some of life’s magical glow

For if I live without risk

Then years spent hiding within safety’s mist

Will waste away till there are no other days

And what a blue note

That would bring to this old fool

 

So I want to fly within the fray

Of very ordinary complex days

And in the end I can say of time

Was mine to hold and waste divine!

Detached

Detached:
 
Such a frugal word
Lives among the rich
Yet never heard
Lives within the poor
Where it is often kept score
 
Detached
Says so little
Costs so much
I wonder what is driving, the bus?
 
Within the loss
Of time abused
Reigns a king
Of Sorrows  name
 
Detached is such a little word
Yet climb it does
Within sight of lost doves
Where time and place
Creep neatly into their rite,
PLACE!

I sit

I sit dressed in
Starch white
And blue creased
And there
Across the floor
Is a time once held
For not too long!
Dressed in tapestry
Beads hung over
A peasant’s braid
Boots to match
Leather wrist band too
I’d trade this Rolex
To float back
In that crowd
Well you can’t they say
But they never lived
That day
And all their foolishness
Won’t ever dance, so loud

Sail On:

 

And then I said

This is the end

Of time

Of mine

 

So what now

I see no light

No wind to rush

Me into flight

 

I just sit

On this life’s trip

And wonder how colorful

My canvas did ……

My canvas was. ….

 

And then my canvas

unfurled and I left my slip

No longer just floating

No longer adrift

The Don

From the cup

Of self-importance,

I sipped a brew

Of lasting fools

 

From a river

Of worthless flow

I gained so little

I grew so old

 

From a sky

Of wild blue lies

I held so true

Only to fall,

And crash,

Like some old fool

 

And yet within

My quixotic dreams

I’ve slain more wind

Than ever seen

 

And there I live

With little more

And hope

This- is- real for sure

 

For all I have left

are my right dreams

Quixotic they are, ever-more, ever-seen

A day in the Sun

There’s something about

sitting In the sun high above

Back and butt both pressed
To wrought iron blood
An escape from fire, or
Rail to help one climb higher
City noise  from below
spoke loudly but so
Did bold thoughts held so close
Only heard when alone, did they, most
Up above city life’s clatter
Warm, safe from chaos’s strata
Days once spent so poor
Were richer than ever.
Richer,  than ever. …before