Monthly Archives: January 2018

Walkways

The hollow sound of steps on concrete
as I move through quiet halls,
walking with a mood of purpose,
striding forward without pall.

Thinking of the crunch of leaves
in autumns’ past on wooded malls,
Shuffled red and brown debris
whispering with their ruffled brawl.

Memories of a trail in snow
with silence mid footfall,
or sloshing on the coastal sand
the tides erasing tread and scrawl.

The running gait on playground fields
and rhythmic marching bands recalled
echoing their pace and chorus
clapping, steps from those enthralled.

All this sound and vision walking
as I move through vacant halls,
listening at the sound of knocking
of my own steps, from wall to wall.

 

 

 

In wandering and being inspired

I jump over waves in the wind, now thinned-
causing a splash on descent, and the water imbues.
I walk in circles in some well-trodden shoes,
soles that are worn to the heel.
And the crestfallen face of my mind
urged in the gentle spell of her lines-
the brushstrokes of her pastel flowing gown
compel me to write something down.
I frolic amidst the swell and soak in
the flow of her form that rescinds
the aches in my well-trodden soul.
I stand embracing the image and whole.

 

Words

Borrowed light from the edge of the blinds
illuminates and too, reminds
a claim that words festoon –
Be it despot, king, or brass baboon.

As wind-blown foolishness accounts-
judgement – dogma- can win out
if echoed loud, with sheening rancor.
Out to dull our dreams, this cantor.

But tides roll in to shape the sand
and acrimony leads the damned
to an ever-shifting, deep abyss
where nothing left can calm or kiss.

So to this hole of excrement
trash words of hate and their assent.
Endow more words to raise and soothe,
and stem the shit of brash baboons.

Scale

I step to the side of a ladder
and look up the beams to ascend –

Pulling the halyard, extending
the length of the climb to the end.

Firming the placement and facing,
I place on the first rung, a tap

of rhythm and firm motivation
supporting the weight of the step.

Then, rundle by rundle, I top it
climbing by scaling the air.

Grasping the sides upon reaching
a place at the base of the stair.

And wondering a bit as I conjure
the memories of whence I have come,

I turn, and with hand on the railing
continue my climb to the sun.

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A poem for the hope that a new year brings, though I suppose it could apply to other challenges we face daily. I wish everyone a prosperous, happy, and successful 2018.