SICKNESS brought me this
Thought, in that scale of his:
Why should I be dismayed
Though flame had burned the whole
World, as if it were a coal,
Now I have seen it weighed
Against a soul?
By: W.B. Yeats
Saturday, October 23, 2010
Stain-glass Windows
A bit of colored glass,
shining ever bright in minds eye.
Every moment, each angle.
A unique and precious rainbow.
As a being so human, so fragile.
So vast and intricate.
A piece of glass in God's mysteries.
She appears through familiar colors,
and in harsh times made her own.
Over many years, and through
colors without boundaries.
Her gentle hand has placed glass.
Into my colored windows,
to shine her soulful light through.
Her own color apart of me,
now so free, happy, and in both
hers and mine.
Good-bye Grandma, Love you. (5-11-10) originally
Mahalo.
shining ever bright in minds eye.
Every moment, each angle.
A unique and precious rainbow.
As a being so human, so fragile.
So vast and intricate.
A piece of glass in God's mysteries.
She appears through familiar colors,
and in harsh times made her own.
Over many years, and through
colors without boundaries.
Her gentle hand has placed glass.
Into my colored windows,
to shine her soulful light through.
Her own color apart of me,
now so free, happy, and in both
hers and mine.
Good-bye Grandma, Love you. (5-11-10) originally
Mahalo.
Friday, October 22, 2010
Escape
In a hobbled manner.
My broken stumbled manner,
hardly raised an eyebrow.
In this backwater town of despair, and futility.
I've gotten through the glass.
My blood is a testament to that.
I have no real complaints to burn,
across this hazed horizon.
(4-21-09) A little late for the poem a day.
My broken stumbled manner,
hardly raised an eyebrow.
In this backwater town of despair, and futility.
I've gotten through the glass.
My blood is a testament to that.
I have no real complaints to burn,
across this hazed horizon.
(4-21-09) A little late for the poem a day.
Thursday, October 21, 2010
Blackout
Blackout in day's failing.
I've seen the day's colors passing.
From white to black,
and black to white.
In a prismatic lights blinding blast.
I now stumble forward out of
the light, pass dusk, into dark.
In a blackout, I find God.
I find a journey, both sweet and bitter.
I pray for the former,
but taste the latter.
In all of this my teeth do chatter,
for fear of bitterness.
I feel the known red, thick
and salty dripping,
from my wrinkled brow.
A faint light and desperate sprint,
Prove fruitless in the still heavy shadows.
(10-9-09) revised(10-21-10)
I've seen the day's colors passing.
From white to black,
and black to white.
In a prismatic lights blinding blast.
I now stumble forward out of
the light, pass dusk, into dark.
In a blackout, I find God.
I find a journey, both sweet and bitter.
I pray for the former,
but taste the latter.
In all of this my teeth do chatter,
for fear of bitterness.
I feel the known red, thick
and salty dripping,
from my wrinkled brow.
A faint light and desperate sprint,
Prove fruitless in the still heavy shadows.
(10-9-09) revised(10-21-10)
Wednesday, October 20, 2010
Bite The Drink
In a simple glass of watery wine.
I cannot find a true reflection.
The glass is never still,
without ripples,without splashily slipping,
down smooth green sides.
Lips, perhaps parched,
maybe chapped, pained peeling.
Ahhh, but to moisten a moment.
I cannot find myself,
in the rippling distortion.
A shining ball, a dull book.
Pray,give pause, for do they define,
in some possible mirror of momentary grasp.
A second stopped to be gazed upon.
The wonders that maybe.
In a hopeful wish.
In a shaky hand.
In an empty glass.
(10-20-10)injured hand writing(6-23-10)
I cannot find a true reflection.
The glass is never still,
without ripples,without splashily slipping,
down smooth green sides.
Lips, perhaps parched,
maybe chapped, pained peeling.
Ahhh, but to moisten a moment.
I cannot find myself,
in the rippling distortion.
A shining ball, a dull book.
Pray,give pause, for do they define,
in some possible mirror of momentary grasp.
A second stopped to be gazed upon.
The wonders that maybe.
In a hopeful wish.
In a shaky hand.
In an empty glass.
(10-20-10)injured hand writing(6-23-10)
My Daughter's Driving License
She got her license first try. Awesome!! I'm so proud of her. She worked hard and got it. I will always worry about her. Even though she is a really responsible teen. I'm going to the o.b. with my wife for a check up on the newest, soon to be member of the family.
Mahalo.
Mahalo.
Tuesday, October 19, 2010
Simple Candles
A candles flame flickers,
in one way or another twisting, licking heat.
The winds choice to breathe.
To snuff the orange light,
Give the candles flicker a name.
Save it, another day, perhaps.
What is in a name?
The candle burns either way.
Through to the core.
I would explore.
Breathing.
dying.
fin.
(10-19-10) P.s. off day
in one way or another twisting, licking heat.
The winds choice to breathe.
To snuff the orange light,
Give the candles flicker a name.
Save it, another day, perhaps.
What is in a name?
The candle burns either way.
Through to the core.
I would explore.
Breathing.
dying.
fin.
(10-19-10) P.s. off day
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