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Justice Is Just Not There

Justice
Is left to unsuspecting eyes
The public’s truth is abused and broken
Through the governments cruel lies.

Money spent on holidays and trips round the world
While others die of hunger and thirst
The prime minister will keep on living longer
He doesn’t know how to live in unknowing worst

He only knows of life’s ups and extravagance
Being pampered and pruned
His deceitful ways of hiding the truth
My hurt and knowing, is a growing wound

His life is glamour and star lit balls
Of expensive food and parties
While others are living in dirt and grime
Just wanting life’s simple necessities.

So please help us,
Give us some needed support
The justice in this world is fallen into nothing
Violence will be my last resort

Yet if it comes to that, don’t think I won’t
I will make your life hell
I’m just asking for a chance to survive
If you don’t, inevitably we will rebel

Shed us some light of life
Come to our aid of distress
And at least give us a sense of hope
So we are not forever in darkness

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Water Runs Dry

We don't even talk anymore
And we don't even know what we argue about
Don't even say I love you no more
Cause sayin' how we feel is no longer allowed
Some people will work things out
And some just don't know how to change

Let's don't wait till the water runs dry
We might watch our whole lives pass us by
Let's don't wait till the water runs dry
We'll make the biggest mistake of our lives
Don't do it baby

Now they can see the tears in our eyes
But we deny the pain that lies deep in our hearts
Well maybe that's a pain we can't hide
Cause everybody knows that we're both torn apart
Why do we hurt each other
Why do we push love away

Let's don't wait till the water runs dry
We might watch our whole lives pass us by
Let's don't wait till the water runs dry
We'll make the biggest mistake of our lives
Don't do it baby

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The Eyes Of Truth

(curly m.c.)
.
The eyes of truth
Are always watching you.
Mongolian chant translation
Alsyn gazryn zeregleenn
Aduu shig mal shig torolzonoo khuoo
(translation:
In the distance the mirage stands out like
Horses and cattle.
Very glad to see my beloved son.
--- sandras whispers ---
Je me regarde
Je me sens
Je vois des enfants
Je suis enfant !
(translation:
I look at myself
I feel myself
I see the children
I am a child! )

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The Smile Has Left Your Eyes

I saw you standing hand in hand
And now you come to me the solitary man
And I know what it is that made us live
Such ordinary lives
The where to go the who to see
No one could sympathize
The smile has left your eyes
The smile has left your eyes
And Ive become a rolling stone
I dont know where to go or what to call my own
But I can see that black horizon glooming
Ever close to view
Its over now its not my fault
See how this feels for you
The smile has left your eyes
The smile has left your eyes
But I never thought Id see you
Standing there with him
So dont come crawling back to me
Now its too late you realized
Now theres no one can sympathize
Now that the smile has left your eyes
Now its too late you realized
Now theres no one can sympathize
Now its too late you realized
Now that the smile has left your eyes

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Men With Broken Hearts

You'll meet many just like me upon life's busy street
With shoulders stooped and heads bowed low and eyes that stare in defeat
Or souls that live within the past where sorrow plays all parts
Where a living death is all that's left for men with broken hearts
You have no right to be the judge to criticize and condemn
Just think but for the grace of God it would be you instead of him
One careless step a thoughtless deed and then the misery starts
And to those who weep death comes cheap these men with broken hearts
Oh so humble you should be when they come passing by
For it's written that the greatest men never get too big to cry
Some lose faith in love and life when sorrow shoots her darts
And with hope all gone they walk alone these men with broken hearts
You've never walked in that man's shoes or saw things through his eyes
Or stood and watched with helpless hands while the heart inside you dies
Some were propers some were kings and some were masters of the arts
But in their shame they're all the same these men with broken hearts
Life sometimes can be so cruel that a heart will pray for death
God why must these living dead know pain with every breath
So help your brother along the road no matter where he starts
For the God that made you made them too these men with broken hearts

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Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

The Golden Legend: VI. The School Of Salerno

A traveling Scholastic affixing his Theses to the gate
of the College.

_Scholastic._ There, that is my gauntlet, my banner, my shield,
Hung up as a challenge to all the field!
One hundred and twenty-five propositions,
Which I will maintain with the sword of the tongue
Against all disputants, old and young.
Let us see if doctors or dialecticians
Will dare to dispute my definitions,
Or attack any one of my learned theses.
Here stand I; the end shall be as God pleases.
I think I have proved, by profound research
The error of all those doctrines so vicious
Of the old Areopagite Dionysius,
That are making such terrible work in the churches,
By Michael the Stammerer sent from the East,
And done into Latin by that Scottish beast,
Erigena Johannes, who dares to maintain,
In the face of the truth, the error infernal,
That the universe is and must be eternal;
At first laying down, as a fact fundamental,
That nothing with God can be accidental;
Then asserting that God before the creation
Could not have existed, because it is plain
That, had he existed, he would have created;
Which is begging the question that should be debated,
And moveth me less to anger than laughter.
All nature, he holds, is a respiration
Of the Spirit of God, who, in breathing, hereafter
Will inhale it into his bosom again,
So that nothing but God alone will remain.
And therein he contradicteth himself;
For he opens the whole discussion by stating,
That God can only exist in creating.
That question I think I have laid on the shelf!

(_He goes out. Two Doctors come in disputing, and
followed by pupils._)

_Doctor Serafino._ I, with the Doctor Seraphic, maintain,
That a word which is only conceived in the brain
Is a type of eternal Generation;
The spoken word is the Incarnation.

_Doctor Cherubino._ What do I care for the Doctor Seraphic,
With all his wordy chaffer and traffic?

_Doctor Serafino._ You make but a paltry show of resistance;
Universals have no real existence!

_Doctor Cherubino._ Your words are but idle and empty chatter;
Ideas are eternally joined to matter!

_Doctor Serafino_. May the Lord have mercy on your position,
You wretched, wrangling culler of herbs!

_Doctor Cherubino_. May he send your soul to eternal perdition,
For your Treatise on the Irregular Verbs!

(_They rush out fighting. Two Scholars come in._)

_First Scholar_. Monte Cassino, then, is your College.
What think you of ours here at Salern?

_Second Scholar_. To tell the truth, I arrived so lately,
I hardly yet have had time to discern.
So much, at least, I am bound to acknowledge:
The air seems healthy, the buildings stately,
And on the whole I like it greatly.

_First Scholar_. Yes, the air is sweet; the Calabrian hills
Send us down puffs of mountain air;
And in summer time the sea-breeze fills
With its coolness cloister, and court, and square.
Then at every season of the year
There are crowds of guests and travellers here;
Pilgrims, and mendicant friars, and traders
From the Levant, with figs and wine,
And bands of wounded and sick Crusaders,
Coming back from Palestine.

_Second Scholar_. And what are the studies you pursue?
What is the course you here go through?

_First Scholar_. The first three years of the college course
Are given to Logic alone, as the source
Of all that is noble, and wise, and true.

_Second Scholar_. That seems rather strange, I must confess.
In a Medical School; yet, nevertheless,
You doubtless have reasons for that.

_First Scholar_. Oh yes!
For none but a clever dialectician
Can hope to become a great physician;
That has been settled long ago.
Logic makes an important part
Of the mystery of the healing art;
For without it how could you hope to show
That nobody knows so much as you know?
After this there are five years more
Devoted wholly to medicine,
With lectures on chirurgical lore,
And dissections of the bodies of swine,
As likest the human form divine.

_Second Scholar_. What are the books now most in vogue?

_First Scholar_. Quite an extensive catalogue;
Mostly, however, books of our own;
As Gariopontus' Passionarius,
And the writings of Matthew Platearius;
And a volume universally known
As the Regimen of the School of Salern,
For Robert of Normandy written in terse
And very elegant Latin verse.
Each of these writings has its turn.
And when at length we have finished these,
Then comes the struggle for degrees,
With all the oldest and ablest critics;
The public thesis and disputation,
Question, and answer, and explanation
Of a passage out of Hippocrates,
Or Aristotle's Analytics.
There the triumphant Magister stands!
A book is solemnly placed in his hands,
On which he swears to follow the rule
And ancient forms of the good old School;
To report if any confectionarius
Mingles his drugs with matters various,
And to visit his patients twice a day,
And once in the night, if they live in town,
And if they are poor, to take no pay.
Having faithfully promised these,
His head is crowned with a laurel crown;
A kiss on his cheek, a ring on his hand,
The Magister Artium et Physices
Goes forth from the school like a lord of the land.
And now, as we have the whole morning before us
Let us go in, if you make no objection,
And listen awhile to a learned prelection
On Marcus Aurelius Cassiodorus.

(_They go in. Enter_ LUCIFER _as a Doctor._)

_Lucifer_. This is the great School of Salern!
A land of wrangling and of quarrels,
Of brains that seethe, and hearts that burn,
Where every emulous scholar hears,
In every breath that comes to his ears,
The rustling of another's laurels!
The air of the place is called salubrious;
The neighborhood of Vesuvius lends it
An odor volcanic, that rather mends it,
And the buildings have an aspect lugubrious,
That inspires a feeling of awe and terror
Into the heart of the beholder,
And befits such an ancient homestead of error,
Where the old falsehoods moulder and smoulder,
And yearly by many hundred hands
Are carried away, in the zeal of youth,
And sown like tares in the field of truth,
To blossom and ripen in other lands.
What have we here, affixed to the gate?
The challenge of some scholastic wight,
Who wishes to hold a public debate
On sundry questions wrong or right!
Ah, now this is my great delight!
For I have often observed of late
That such discussions end in a fight.
Let us see what the learned wag maintains
With such a prodigal waste of brains.

(_Reads._)

'Whether angels in moving from place to place
Pass through the intermediate space.
Whether God himself is the author of evil,
Or whether that is the work of the Devil.
When, where, and wherefore Lucifer fell,
And whether he now is chained in hell.'

I think I can answer that question well!
So long as the boastful human mind
Consents in such mills as this to grind,
I sit very firmly upon my throne!
Of a truth it almost makes me laugh,
To see men leaving the golden grain
To gather in piles the pitiful chaff
That old Peter Lombard thrashed with his brain,
To have it caught up and tossed again
On the horns of the Dumb Ox of Cologne!

But my guests approach! there is in the air
A fragrance, like that of the Beautiful Garden
Of Paradise, in the days that were!
An odor of innocence, and of prayer,
And of love, and faith that never fails,
Which as the fresh-young heart exhales
Before it begins to wither and harden!
I cannot breathe such an atmosphere!
My soul is filled with a nameless fear,
That, after all my trouble and pain,
After all my restless endeavor,
The youngest, fairest soul of the twain,
The most ethereal, most divine,
Will escape from my hands forever and ever.
But the other is already mine!
Let him live to corrupt his race,
Breathing among them, with every breath,
Weakness, selfishness, and the base
And pusillanimous fear of death.
I know his nature, and I know
That of all who in my ministry
Wander the great earth to and fro,
And on my errands come and go,
The safest and subtlest are such as he.

(_Enter_ PRINCE HENRY _and_ ELSIE _with
attendants_.)

_Prince Henry._ Can you direct us to Friar Angelo?

_Lucifer._ He stands before you.

_Prince Henry._ Then you know our purpose.
I am Prince Henry of Hoheneck, and this
The maiden that I spake of in my letters.

_Lucifer._ It is a very grave and solemn business!
We must not be precipitate. Does she
Without compulsion, of her own free will,
Consent to this?

_Prince Henry._ Against all opposition,
Against all prayers, entreaties, protestations.
She will not be persuaded.

_Lucifer._ That is strange!
Have you thought well of it?

_Elsie._ I come not here
To argue, but to die. Your business is not
to question, but to kill me. I am ready.
I am impatient to be gone from here
Ere any thoughts of earth disturb again
The spirit of tranquillity within me.

_Prince Henry._ Would I had not come here
Would I were dead,
And thou wert in thy cottage in the forest,
And hadst not known me! Why have I done this?
Let me go back and die.

_Elsie._ It cannot be;
Not if these cold, flat stones on which we tread
Were coulters heated white, and yonder gateway
Flamed like a furnace with a sevenfold heat.
I must fulfil my purpose.

_Prince Henry._ I forbid it!
Not one step farther. For I only meant
To put thus far thy courage to the proof.
It is enough. I, too, have courage to die,
For thou hast taught me!

_Elsie._ O my Prince! remember
Your promises. Let me fulfill my errand.
You do not look on life and death as I do.
There are two angels, that attend unseen
Each one of us, and in great books record
Our good and evil deeds. He who writes down
The good ones, after every action closes
His volume, and ascends with it to God.
The other keeps his dreadful day-book open
Till sunset, that we may repent; which doing,
The record of the action fades away,
And leaves a line of white across the page.
Now if my act be good, as I believe it,
It cannot be recalled. It is already
Sealed up in heaven, as a good deed accomplished.
The rest is yours. Why wait you? I am ready.

(_To her attendants._)

Weep not, my friends! rather rejoice with me.
I shall not feel the pain, but shall be gone,
And you will have another friend in heaven.
Then start not at the creaking of the door
Through which I pass. I see what lies beyond it.

(_To_ PRINCE HENRY.)

And you, O Prince! bear back my benison
Unto my father's house, and all within it.
This morning in the church I prayed for them,
After confession, after absolution,
When my whole soul was white, I prayed for them.
God will take care of them, they need me not.
And in your life let my remembrance linger,
As something not to trouble and disturb it,
But to complete it, adding life to life.
And if at times beside the evening fire
You see my face among the other faces,
Let it not be regarded as a ghost
That haunts your house, but as a guest that loves you.
Nay, even as one of your own family,
Without whose presence there were something wanting.
I have no more to say. Let us go in.

_Prince Henry._ Friar Angelo! I charge you on your life,
Believe not what she says, for she is mad,
And comes here not to die, but to be healed.

_Elsie._ Alas! Prince Henry!

_Lucifer._ Come with me; this way.

(ELSIE _goes in with_ LUCIFER, _who thrusts_ PRINCE
HENRY _back and closes the door._)

_Prince Henry._ Gone! and the light of all my life gone with her!
A sudden darkness falls upon the world!

_Forester._ News from the Prince!

_Ursula._ Of death or life?

_Forester._ You put your questions eagerly!

_Ursula._ Answer me, then! How is the Prince?

_Forester._ I left him only two hours since
Homeward returning down the river,
As strong and well as if God, the Giver,
Had given him back in his youth again.

_Ursula (despairing)._ Then Elsie, my poor child, is dead!

_Forester._ That, my good woman, I have not said.
Don't cross the bridge till you come to it,
Is a proverb old, and of excellent wit.

_Ursula._ Keep me no longer in this pain!

_Forester._ It is true your daughter is no more;--
That is, the peasant she was before.

_Ursula._ Alas! I am simple and lowly bred
I am poor, distracted, and forlorn.
And it is not well that you of the court
Should mock me thus, and make a sport
Of a joyless mother whose child is dead,
For you, too, were of mother, born!

_Forester._ Your daughter lives, and the Prince is well!
You will learn ere long how it all befell.
Her heart for a moment never failed;
But when they reached Salerno's gate,
The Prince's nobler self prevailed,
And saved her for a nobler fate,
And he was healed, in his despair,
By the touch of St. Matthew's sacred bones;
Though I think the long ride in the open air,
That pilgrimage over stocks and stones,
In the miracle must come in for a share!

_Ursula._ Virgin! who lovest the poor and lonely,
If the loud cry of a mother's heart
Can ever ascend to where thou art,
Into thy blessed hands and holy
Receive my prayer of praise and thanksgiving!
Let the hands that bore our Saviour bear it
Into the awful presence of God;
For thy feet with holiness are shod,
And if thou bearest it he will hear it.
Our child who was dead again is living!

_Forester._ I did not tell you she was dead;
If you thought so 'twas no fault of mine;
At this very moment, while I speak,
They are sailing homeward down the Rhine,
In a splendid barge, with golden prow,
And decked with banners white and red
As the colors on your daughter's cheek.
They call her the Lady Alicia now;
For the Prince in Salerno made a vow
That Elsie only would he wed.

_Ursula._ Jesu Maria! what a change!
All seems to me so weird and strange!

_Forester._ I saw her standing on the deck,
Beneath an awning cool and shady;
Her cap of velvet could not hold
The tresses of her hair of gold,
That flowed and floated like the stream,
And fell in masses down her neck.
As fair and lovely did she seem
As in a story or a dream
Some beautiful and foreign lady.
And the Prince looked so grand and proud,
And waved his hand thus to the crowd
That gazed and shouted from the shore,
All down the river, long and loud.

_Ursula._ We shall behold our child once more;
She is not dead! She is not dead!
God, listening, must have overheard
The prayers, that, without sound or word,
Our hearts in secrecy have said!
O, bring me to her; for mine eyes
Are hungry to behold her face;
My very soul within me cries;
My very hands seem to caress her,
To see her, gaze at her, and bless her;
Dear Elsie, child of God and grace!

(_Goes out toward the garden._)

_Forester._ There goes the good woman out of her head;
And Gottlieb's supper is waiting here;
A very capacious flagon of beer,
And a very portentous loaf of bread.
One would say his grief did not much oppress him.
Here's to the health of the Prince, God bless him!

(_He drinks._)

Ha! it buzzes and stings like a hornet!
And what a scene there, through the door!
The forest behind and the garden before,
And midway an old man of threescore,
With a wife and children that caress him.
Let me try still further to cheer and adorn it
With a merry, echoing blast of my cornet!

(_Goes out blowing his horn._)

* * * * *

THE CASTLE OF VAUTSBERG ON THE RHINE.

* * * * *

PRINCE HENRY _and_ ELSIE _standing on the terrace at
evening. The sound of bells heard from a distance._


_Prince Henry._ We are alone. The wedding guests
Ride down the hill, with plumes and cloaks,
And the descending dark invests
The Niederwald, and all the nests
Among its hoar and haunted oaks.

_Elsie._ What bells are those, that ring so slow,
So mellow, musical, and low?

_Prince Henry._ They are the bells of Geisenheim,
That with their melancholy chime
Ring out the curfew of the sun.

_Elsie._ Listen, beloved.

_Prince Henry._ They are done!
Dear Elsie! many years ago
Those same soft bells at eventide
Rang in the ears of Charlemagne,
As, seated by Fastrada's side
At Ingelheim, in all his pride
He heard their sound with secret pain.

_Elsie._ Their voices only speak to me
Of peace and deep tranquillity,
And endless confidence in thee!

_Prince Henry._ Thou knowest the story of her ring,
How, when the court went back to Aix,
Fastrada died; and how the king
Sat watching by her night and day,
Till into one of the blue lakes,
That water that delicious land,
They cast the ring, drawn from her hand;
And the great monarch sat serene
And sad beside the fated shore,
Nor left the land forever more.

_Elsie._ That was true love.

_Prince Henry._ For him the queen
Ne'er did what thou hast done for me.

_Elsie._ Wilt thou as fond and faithful be?
Wilt thou so love me after death?

_Prince Henry._ In life's delight, in death's dismay,
In storm and sunshine, night and day,
In health, in sickness, in decay,
Here and hereafter, I am thine!
Thou hast Fastrada's ring. Beneath
The calm, blue waters of thine eyes
Deep in thy steadfast soul it lies,
And, undisturbed by this world's breath,
With magic light its jewels shine!
This golden ring, which thou hast worn
Upon thy finger since the morn,
Is but a symbol and a semblance,
An outward fashion, a remembrance,
Of what thou wearest within unseen,
O my Fastrada, O my queen!
Behold! the hilltops all aglow
With purple and with amethyst;
While the whole valley deep below
Is filled, and seems to overflow,
With a fast-rising tide of mist.
The evening air grows damp and chill;
Let us go in.

_Elsie._ Ah, not so soon.
See yonder fire! It is the moon
Slow rising o'er the eastern hill.
It glimmers on the forest tips,
And through the dewy foliage drips
In little rivulets of light,
And makes the heart in love with night.

_Prince Henry._ Oft on this terrace, when the day
Was closing, have I stood and gazed,
And seen the landscape fade away,
And the white vapors rise and drown
Hamlet and vineyard, tower and town
While far above the hilltops blazed.
But men another hand than thine
Was gently held and clasped in mine;
Another head upon my breast
Was laid, as thine is now, at rest.
Why dost thou lift those tender eyes
With so much sorrow and surprise?
A minstrel's, not a maiden's hand,
Was that which in my own was pressed.
A manly form usurped thy place,
A beautiful, but bearded face,
That now is in the Holy Land,
Yet in my memory from afar
Is shining on us like a star.
But linger not. For while I speak,
A sheeted spectre white and tall,
The cold mist climbs the castle wall,
And lays his hand upon thy cheek!

(_They go in._)

* * * * *

EPILOGUE.

* * * * *

THE TWO RECORDING ANGELS ASCENDING.

_The Angel of Good Deeds (with closed book_). God sent his
messenger the rain,
And said unto the mountain brook,
'Rise up, and from thy caverns look
And leap, with naked, snow-white feet.
From the cool hills into the heat
Of the broad, arid plain.'

God sent his messenger of faith,
And whispered in the maiden's heart,
'Rise up, and look from where thou art,
And scatter with unselfish hands
Thy freshness on the barren sands
And solitudes of Death.'
O beauty of holiness,
Of self-forgetfulness, of lowliness!
O power of meekness,
Whose very gentleness and weakness
Are like the yielding, but irresistible air!
Upon the pages
Of the sealed volume that I bear,
The deed divine
Is written in characters of gold,
That never shall grow old,
But all through ages
Burn and shine,
With soft effulgence!
O God! it is thy indulgence
That fills the world with the bliss
Of a good deed like this!

_The Angel of Evil Deeds (with open book)._ Not yet, not yet
Is the red sun wholly set,
But evermore recedes,
While open still I bear
The Book of Evil Deeds,
To let the breathings of the upper air
Visit its pages and erase
The records from its face!
Fainter and fainter as I gaze
On the broad blaze
The glimmering landscape shines,
And below me the black river
Is hidden by wreaths of vapor!
Fainter and fainter the black lines
Begin to quiver
Along the whitening surface of the paper;
Shade after shade
The terrible words grow faint and fade,
And in their place
Runs a white space!

Down goes the sun!
But the soul of one,
Who by repentance
Has escaped the dreadful sentence,
Shines bright below me as I look.
It is the end!
With closed Book
To God do I ascend.

Lo! over the mountain steeps
A dark, gigantic shadow sweeps
Beneath my feet;
A blackness inwardly brightening
With sullen heat,
As a storm-cloud lurid with lightning.
And a cry of lamentation,
Repeated and again repeated,
Deep and loud
As the reverberation
Of cloud answering unto cloud,
Swells and rolls away in the distance,
As if the sheeted
Lightning retreated,
Baffled and thwarted by the wind's resistance.

It is Lucifer,
The son of mystery;
And since God suffers him to be,
He, too, is God's minister,
And labors for some good
By us not understood!

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The Broken Girl

The light is fading faster
as her life begins
to go

the darkness comes
as her life slowly
slips away

her demons have risen
they've taken control

she's not the girl
she used to be

The girl with the
smile, the
girl with the
laugh

That girl is gone
she has died off
she left this day

the day of an honest
mistake
a mistake she will
have to die for

for her grandma will
soon know

they don't see it
for they don't know
the wrath of her grandma

they think the grandma's
sweet
they say she's not that way

She says her grandma will
take
everything she holds dear

they say they don't believe it
they say that its not true

little do they know
her grandma is of a nature
where she will take all
from the girl

all because of one
mistake
the girl will loose it all

the girl you knew will
be long gone
for she must say good-bye

all to soon you will
meat the girl she
really is

for all to soon her masks
shall drop
all to soon she will
reveal all

the masks shall drop
and many will see
just how broken that girl
really is

to soon they will see
that girl is
me

(written 9/29/10)

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If You Have Not Lived

An unfortunate set of events and circumstances.
A tragedy in its truest form.
Memories so cold yet they are still warm.
Some say his death could have been prevented.
But I know not how one could stop the stars from aligning that night.
Digging into the past can be traumatic.
Digging into the past can also be fantastic.
A heart felt thought of who you were back then.
What you did, who you loved.
A fun time that got blurred as you moved on.
We drift from one life to the next.
Sometimes one is more innocent of the mistakes made.
Ignorance is never a valid excuse if abused.
Repetition is the music that continues to beat.
Destiny is an eye opening ride so just take a seat.
Take it all in.
Be completely aware of all our surroundings.
Take part in it.
For we know not how long it will last.
Time leaves the the wind still.
A motionless body of a image that happen so fast.
No control over what we will see when we close our eyes.
To tell ourself otherwise is just another lie.
Putting colors into the skies
We not only must survive, but must put meaning to what we left behind.
What is an explanation without reason?
How many times will we see these changes in the seasons?
We will not know if its of a life not lived.

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A Mystery

The river hemmed with leaning trees
Wound through its meadows green;
A low, blue line of mountains showed
The open pines between.

One sharp, tall peak above them all
Clear into sunlight sprang
I saw the river of my dreams,
The mountains that I sang!

No clue of memory led me on,
But well the ways I knew;
A feeling of familiar things
With every footstep grew.

Not otherwise above its crag
Could lean the blasted pine;
Not otherwise the maple hold
Aloft its red ensign.

So up the long and shorn foot-hills
The mountain road should creep;
So, green and low, the meadow fold
Its red-haired kine asleep.

The river wound as it should wind;
Their place the mountains took;
The white torn fringes of their clouds
Wore no unwonted look.

Yet ne'er before that river's rim
Was pressed by feet of mine,
Never before mine eyes had crossed
That broken mountain line.

A presence, strange at once and known,
Walked with me as my guide;
The skirts of some forgotten life
Trailed noiseless at my side.

Was it a dim-remembered dream?
Or glimpse through ions old?
The secret which the mountains kept
The river never told.

But from the vision ere it passed
A tender hope I drew,
And, pleasant as a dawn of spring,
The thought within me grew,

That love would temper every change,
And soften all surprise,
And, misty with the dreams of earth,
The hills of Heaven arise.

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O! December

O! December,
When you come this turn again,
Bring along,
Reports of the city,
The city that dwells in my heart.
Where glimmer galaxies
Of glow-worms,
Where spheres smile,
With the colours of butterflies,
Where all around lingers
Fragrance of faithfulness,
And that who feels it
With the finger-tips,
Or gets its glance
Becomes fragrance incarnated.

O! December,
When you come this turn again,
Bring along
Reports of the city,
The city that dwells in my heart.
Where grains of sand
Are the stars,
Where roses and nightingales,
The months and Moon
Are metaphors of truthfulness;
Where heart is an ocean
With several banks
And where the Deity of Fate
Sparkles in the fists.

O! December,
Ask us not about
The plight our own city;
Here rests in the eyes,
The dust of passed caravans,
Love is cold like an iceberg,
And grows
In the farms of sunlight,
Here when the dawn approaches,
All visions of the night melt
In the form of a thawing heap,
Here prick in the eyes,
Bits of the broken passions,
Here we weave our dreams,
By dipping lashes
In the blood of heart,
Then we live and we die
In those dreams;
Though it is not possible
To stitch words of the ragged soul,
Yet O! December,
When you come this turn again
Bring along
Reports of the city,
The city that dwells in my heart.

By Fakhira Batool Translated By Muhammad Shanazar

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Twenty-Two Rhymes To Left-Prime-Minister Wei

Boys in fancy clothes never starve,
but Confucian scholars often find their lives in ruin.
Please listen to my explanation, Sir,
I, your humble student, ask permission to state my case.
When I was a younger Du Fu
I was honored as a national distinguished guest
and wore out ten thousand books in reading,
My brush was always inspired by gods,
my rhymed essays rivaled those of Yang Xiong,1
my poems were kin with those of Cao Zijian.2
Li Yong looked for a chance to meet me,
and even Wang Han3 wanted to be my neighbor.
I thought I was an outstanding person,
positioned at a key ferryboat route
and would assist an emperor like Yao or Shun,4
and make folk customs honest and simple again.
In the end this ambition withered.
I became a bard instead of a hermit,
and spent thirty years traveling on a donkey,
ate traveler's rations in the luxury of the capital,
knocked on the door of the rich in the morning,
walked in the dust of fat horses in the evening,
ate leftover dishes and half-finished wine.
Wherever I went, I found misery hiding beneath.
When the emperor summoned me,
I was excited at this chance to stretch myself .
I saw blue sky but my wings just hung.
I was set back, had no scales to swim far.
I feel unworthy of your kindness,
and I know your sincerity:
in the presence of one hundred officials,
you read my best poems.
I am as happy as Gong Gong.5
Since it's hard to imitate Confucius disciple Yuan Xian6
How can I feel unhappy about anything,
though my feet still drag as usual?
Now I plan to move east to the sea,
and leave the capital behind me in the west.
But I still feel attached to the Zhongnan Mountain,
and turn my head to look at the Wei River.
I think about my gratitude for one meal7
as I take departure from you, Prime Minister.
This white gull is lost in the waves.
Who can tame him in his journey of ten thousand miles?

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An Elegy on the Death of the Virtuous Lady Elizabeth, Countess of Rutland

I may forget to drink, to eat, to sleep,
Remembering thee: but when I do, to weep
In well-weighed lines, that men shall at thy hearse
Envy the sorrow which brought forth my verse;
May my dull understanding have the might
Only to know her last was yesternight!
Rutland, the fair, is dead! and if to hear
The name of Sidney will more force a tear,
'Tis she that is so dead! and yet there be
Some more alive profess not poetry;
The statesmen and the lawyers of our time
Have business still, yet do it not in rhyme.
Can she be dead, and can there be of those
That are so dull to say their prayers in prose?
It is three days since she did feel Death's hand;
And yet this isle not feel the poet's land?
Hath this no new ones made? and are the old
At such a needful time as this grown cold?
They all say they would fain; but yet they plead
They cannot write, because their muse is dead.
Hear me then speak, which will take no excuse;
Sorrow can make a verse without a muse.
Why didst thou die so soon? O, pardon me,
I know it was the longest life to thee,
That e'er with modesty was called a span,
Since the Almighty left to strive with man;
Mankind is sent to sorrow; and thou hast
More of the business which thou cam'st for past,
Than all those aged women, which, yet quick,
Have quite outlived their own arithmetic.
As soon as thou couldst apprehend a grief,
There were enough to meet thee; and the chief
Blessing of women, marriage, was to thee
Nought but a sacrament of misery;
For whom thou hadst, if we may trust to fame,
Could nothing change about thee but thy name:
A name which who (that were again to do't)
Would change without a thousand joys to boot?
In all things else thou rather led'st a life
Like a betrothed virgin than a wife.
But yet I would have called thy fortune kind,
If it had only tried the settled mind
With present crosses: not the loathed thought
Of worse to come, or past, then might have wrough
Thy best remembrance to have cast an eye
Back with delight upon thine infancy.
But thou hadst, ere thou knew'st the use of tears,
Sorrow laid up against thou cam'st to years;
Ere thou wert able who thou wert to tell,
By a sad war thy noble father fell,
In a dull clime, which did not understand
What 'twas to venture him to save a land.
He left two children, who for virtue, wit,
Beauty, were loved of all; thee and his wit:
Two was too few; yet death hath from us took
Thee, a more faultless issue than his book,
Which now the only living thing we have
From him, we'll see, shall never find a grave
As thou hast done. Alas! 'would it might be
That books their sexes had, as well as we,
That we might see this married to the worth,
And many poems like itself bring forth!
But this vain wish divinity controuls;
For neither to the angels, nor to souls,
Nor anything he meant should ever live,
Did the wise God of nature sexes give.
Then with his everlasting work alone
We must content ourselves, since she is gone;
Gone, like the day thou diedst upon; and we
May call that back again as soon as thee.
Who should have looked to this? Where were you all,
That do yourselves the help of nature call,
Physicians? I acknowledce you were there
To sell such words as one in health would hear:
So died she. Curst be he who shall defend
Your art of hastening nature to its end!
In this you shewed that physic can but be
At best an art to cure your poverty.
Ye're many of you impostors, and do give
To sick men potions that yourselves may live.
He that hath surfeited, and cannot eat,
Must have a medicine to procure you meat;
And that's the deepest ground of all your skill,
Unless it be some knowledge how to kill.
Sorrow and madness make my verses flow
Cross to my understanding; for I know
You can do wonders: Every day I meet
The looser sort of people in the street
From desperate diseases freed; and why
Restore you them, and suffer her to die?
Why should the state allow you colleges,
Pensions for lectures, and anatomies,
If all your potions, vomits, letting blood,
Can only cure the bad, and not the good,
Which only they can do? and I will show
The hidden reason, why you did not know
The way to cure her: You believed her blood
Ran on such courses as you understood;
By lectures you believed her arteries
Grew as they do in your anatomies:
Forgetting that the state allows you none
But only whores and thieves to practise on
And every passage 'bout them I am sure
You understood, and only them can cure;
Which is the cause that both —
Are noted for enjoying so long lives.
But noble blood treads in too strange a path
For your ill-got experience, and hath
Another way of cure. If you had seen
Penelope dissected, or the Queen
Of Sheba; then you might have found a way
To have preserved her from that fatal day.
As 'tis, you have but made her sooner blest,
By sending her to Heaven, where let her rest.
I will not hurt the peace which she would have,
By longer looking in her quiet grave.

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Fireflies

Oh to catch some flreflies
and put them in a jar,
makes me feel I've capture light
and am now distant and far
from eternal darkness of the night
when the clouds cover the moon.

To see you flicker before my eyes
I see eternity and where it lies.
For the tiniest flash that you give
brings to mind of where we live
in a world of mystery, a world of grace,
a sweet reminder for the human race

To connect itself and not keep at bay
all of the brightness beyond the day.
Bring back the days when you were a child
cupping your hands and running wild
to capture your prize of fireflies
and let their glow light up your eyes.

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Where Is She Now?

I once knew,
this person who,
devoted their live,
to changing the world,
but now I wonder,
where she went.
She had a heart,
that only would beat,
when she felt that this world,
truly needed a shining light.
She wanted to be that light,
she wanted to change,
she wanted to give hope,
she wanted it all,
but now look,
where is she now?
Many years ago,
I was this young girl,
who only wanted the best,
who only needed to see,
the smile of one person,
to brighten her day.
Now she can't even look,
at a single smile,
because it just brings her down,
nothing can ever change,
not in her eyes.
Her eyes were once blue,
blue like the skies,
but now her eyes,
are a dark coal-like colour.
She's lost in this world,
she's lost herself too,
I just wish,
she'd figure her life out soon.

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Poetry Is Movement Without Effort

Poetry is movement without effort
Poetry should take you to places far beyond what your eyes can see
Take you to places where you can be free
Poetry is movement without effort
All you have to do is think and feel
and it will move you
and make your experiences real
poetry can cause pictures to form in your mind
speak a thousand verbs, a thousand nouns, or a thousand rhymes
all written for you to experience on a personal level
poetry is a journey
to self discovery
out of a thousand doorways to roads never walked travelled or taken
poetry can cause your eyes and your heart to awaken
remind you of a friend’s love remind you that your never forsaken
because while you live you can experience life to the full
poetry is movement it is a tool
for cataloguing things seen and unseen
for poetry can be the very fabric from which we dream!

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Closer To Heaven

(lead vocal - eric woolfson)
Rising and falling lighter than air
Silently calling no one is there
Oh, bird that is flying so high and so free
Closer to heaven than you and me
Voices of strangers keep me from sleep
Guardian angels watch over the deep
A ship that is sailing way out to the sea
Closer to heaven than you and me
Visions of rain fall out of blue skies
Rivers of tears fall out of dry eyes
Answer my question tell me no lies
Is this the real world or a fools paradise?
Wind that is blowing so wild and so free
Closer to heaven than you and me
Closer to heaven longing to be
Closer to heaven than you and me
Visions of rain fall out of blue skies
Rivers of tears fall out of dry eyes
Answer my question tell me no lies
Is this the real world or a fools paradise?
Love that lies sleeping wakes in the night
Secrets for keeping that wont see the light
I look to the future and I hope it will be
Closer to heaven than you and me
Closer to heaven longing to be
Closer to heaven than you and me

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Round And Round And Round

round and round and round and round and round we go
trying so hard to get a hold of everyone here
we've got to show how much we love them all
we squeak with idiot fake surprise
flap our hands and flutter our eyes
and lap up all their stupid lies
we've got to love them all
and I really don't know why we do it like this
imitation smiles and how 'it's wonderful to be her
i'm really not sure what we're so scared we'll mis
so round and round and round and round and round we go
hanging on every shape they throw
it's strange the way we can't say no
until we love them all...
so we laugh at every stupid joke
and smoke and choke and point and poke
and gag on countless lines...
how much we love them all!
and I really don't know why we do it like this
imitation smiles and how 'it's wonderful to be her
i'm really not sure what we're so scared we'll mis
maybe it's the sex with the drugs and the fools
or maybe it's the promise of belief?
maybe it's the pleasure and the pain of the cruel
or maybe it's the promise of relief?
and I know that we've said it so many times
'once more and never again'
but however many times that we've said it before
once more is never the end...

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Round & Round & Round

Round and round and round and round and round we go
Trying so hard to get a hold of everyone here
We've got to show how much we love them all
We squeak with idiot fake surprise
Flap our hands and flutter our eyes
And lap up all their stupid lies
We've got to love them all
And i really don't know why we do it like this
Imitation smiles and how "it's wonderful to be her
I'm really not sure what we're so scared we'll mis
So round and round and round and round and round we go
Hanging on every shape they throw
It's strange the way we can't say no
Until we love them all...
So we laugh at every stupid joke
And smoke and choke and point and poke
And gag on countless lines...
How much we love them all!
And i really don't know why we do it like this
Imitation smiles and how "it's wonderful to be her
I'm really not sure what we're so scared we'll miss
Maybe it's the sex with the drugs and the fools
Or maybe it's the promise of belief?
Maybe it's the pleasure and the pain of the cruel
Or maybe it's the promise of relief?
And i know that we've said it so many times
"once more and never again"
But however many times that we've said it before
Once more is never the end...

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Do Gods Really Exist

It's said God's compassionate he's merciful as well,
Which begs the question why would he create Hell,
It's a terrible torture for Our Lord to create,
To make people suffer is a form of hate.

That's against his teachings or so we are taught,
Could a God really hurt now there is a thought,
Some suffer from illness from birth to old age,
Yet he doesn't help them why won't he engage.

Illnesses have been with us since time began,
Which ruins the debate they're the fault of man,
He lets people starve still they die of thirst,
This form of cruelty is truly the worst.

Genocide and wars leave us all crying,
Yet God looks from above as millions are dying,
Murderers and rapists, paedophiles too,
He allows them to live without any ado.

If his teachings are true why not intervene,
They would never be born to grow to be mean,
If he lets evil thrive then we must ask,
Why does he allow it we must take him to task.

If we're made to suffer it's really quite odd,
When we recover we give thanks to God,
If our illness kills us we'll claim it's Gods will,
He walks away blameless that's a bitter pill.

Why do we do this it's always the same,
God gets the credit but never the blame,
He created all life so it must be his fault,
Yet he still wants our praise he wants us to exalt.

Why the Hell should we our argument's strong,
The good still die young he must know that is wrong,
Death should be kept for the chosen few,
Strike them with illnesses for the evil they do.

God's universe is endless so why should we die,
For all righteous people death should not apply,
No compassionate person would allow us such pain,
Yet he allows it to happen again and again.

So many religions and cultures all have different Gods,
Yet we all suffer the same so what are the odds,
That God's are but a figment of our imagination,
A fictional characer a delusional creation.

If there is a God then please make us aware,
Give us a sign by showing us you care,
Which now begs the question therein lies the twist,
it's one we must ask,

‘' Do Gods Really Exist ''

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The Source

the Source of ‘Crab Nebula'

'The greats molder in their graves
Their words collect as dust upon their spines
Their hearts do not beat in time with today
and yet, the Spirit calls & you answer
What more can a ‘writer' do'?

(poetic writers are compelled to write
& seldom know why)


Ninth Street

There is a cold water'd house
On a bleak winter'd street
With stale musty stink
Of unwashed sock and sheet
Dirty dishes left still
Standing there in the sink.
Memories drenched in scent
Of kerosene and coal
Christmases without trees
Colored paper or ribbon bows.
Yet ___ there was laughter, warm
and yes ___ love
Her making toast over-done
and coffee too thin for him.
Poverty of wage and things
Cannot suppress the hope
Of loves gentle kiss
As passions
Became a foggy mist
Of what could have been
Instead of what is.


(Genetic Memory of Life before I was)

Curmudgeon

(I did not ask to be born)

Knowing why, doesn't make the search go away
Knowing how, doesn't mean you can stop
There are alternative ways, different days
No one gets to stay forever

There are traps
There are walls
People trip and people fall
and some never get up and walk again

The world continues to change
Nothing stays the same
Tomorrow is not always better
Bad things happen to good people
Good things happen to bad

and no one knows, why the wind blows
The water rises and why everything must die
Wishing will not make the pain of life go away
Life, is what it is.

Son... this is Karma calling ___

I did not hear him as he called out
As if I could have comforted him
Or kept him from slipping away
Perhaps he was waiting to say goodbye
Or to hear how sorry I was to see him go

I did not hear him as he called out
I was young and caught up in living my life
Of squander, waste and dark skinned girls
With eyes of fire and ice
I admit I was not very nice

I did not hear him as he called out
Now fear grips my stony heart
Holds me tight as I call out
and there is no one there
In the middle of the night.

Decadent Dreams ___

Every day I am borne anew
Through the mud and sludge
Of decadent dreams
And some vague remembrance
That I'm connected to my past
I stare at a mirrored reflection
I do not recognize
My cold pinching shoes feel too far away to tie
As I try to remember, where I'm going and why
I try to capture that which is lost
The world that was meant for me
Is not the world in which I live
My face feels the sting of one hand clapping
My eyes focus on the world outside of my self
The colors change from ‘Dali-esque vibrancy
To being all sooty and smelling of sweat
Ahhh, ... it must be Monday and time to go back to work.

Hitch Hiker___


I found center and faced South
(thinking to my self)
‘Might as well start walking my ass some more'
I had gone back home, it wasn't there anymore
I had no future ‘cept my next step
Hungries forced asleep
Dead-air feed's on my innards
And yet, never have I felt so alive
I felt the wind push me further along the highway
Pushed by the driving force of Peterbilts and Reo's
Death a dark lonely step just to the left of shoulder
the Sign read
‘Watch Out For Falling Rocks'
Walk-another step
Impact on the endless lostness
Despair unworthy of the energy required
Onemindedness
Step impact, step, step
Taillights stop, door open
Light on friendly face
Smile,
Jump in as a grateful alley-cat seeking shelter from the rain,
Sot, footsoak, water-blister, blood wet, of another years-end drizzle
Feel the warm fragrant above my own Zen-stench
Step
Step
Now ride.

Cross the Line___

I've been to the other side
you know, Crossed the line
Where the juke joints live and people die
Where the rhythms have a hitch and some jive
And the words flow as a sudden snow
Kinda unexpected
Where the rules ain't as important
As the fire and ice, going through my veins
and the sound of underground trains
Made me feel gritty in my B-flat' strains
The city makes me crazy
Air I breathed, kinda hazy
& I couldn't take it anymore
So, I poured all my feelings onto the page
Bounced off the ceilings with all of my rage,
To see if it would fit, into the message I had writ
I have been, to the other side.

Just Relax ___

We are all just passing through
If we decide to stay a while, sit a spell
We may be able to rent or lease some place
As we ride this rock through space
We can't own it, even if we pay for it
The tax man will take it back
Come with bricks and bats
We own nothing, that we can take with us
As we build our towers and bridges
We can't even take the smell of flowers
They leave at our grave
Or the sweat we gave to make this place ours
So just relax
Don't get too attached, It ain't ours
We just use it for hours, to do what They' want us to do.

One Way Ticket___

Another day of the dead as I stare at my empty bed
I see shadows of the Moon as time falls behind
Love had grown old and turned to dust
The papers of Divorce have finally been signed
Disappointment has replaced my once young lust
Words can no longer describe what is left of my mind
As once held hopes and dreams
Now slowly unravel and unwind
The Sun turns dim and grows small upon the western sky
Clouds from the East, join with clouds from the North
And grayness comes into my world
The ecstatic colors of Autumn leaves silently fall to ground
The ‘Dog Winds of Winter' called forth their biting
Knowing she was no longer there to warm me with her smile.

Agnostic____

No one knows why some choices made are unwise / certainly not I
Or why some are out of step with the universal mind / as is mine
All I know for sure ___ is, I know nothing' for sure

There are those that believe with all their heart / I know not why
They see things that are not here or there / that I cannot
All I know for sure ___ is, I know nothing' for sure

While others are willing to kill or die
For an idea that I cannot comprehend
Or bring about a final end
Without trying to mend a broken fence
To me / makes no sense
All I know for sure ___ is, I know nothing' for sure.

Acceptance ___

I opened the bag *, that I had carried a lifetime
There was a lot of dark empty space
Some memories, smiles and tears
That never found my face
Knowledge without wisdom
Wasted energies
Experiences never intended
Pain I could not erase
Many failures and disappointed others,
I had met along the way
Many books unread, many games not played
In my search for what? I'm still not sure
My motives, though well intended, my thoughts often impure
I could have been / should have been
Meant to be so much more
I barely managed to carry that dusty bag
Now empty, lying there on the floor
I hadn't wanted it, to end like this
Shuffling, dragging one foot
Elbow pressed to my waist
Holding up my rumpled trousers
Whimpering with each painful step
Some times life' just be like that.

(* I had stood up too quickly and passed out, an ‘out of body experience,
revealed my ‘self from above, as my body appeared as an empty bag) .

El Gatos ___

Padded feet on deserted streets
After-hours as others sleep
With half Moon hidden
Behind clouds and trees stripped of leaves.

Familiar walks of solitude and classic etude's
Whispering in tall Fall grasses
Fences blending shadows into the night.
As Life's fabric of mystery weft and weaves.

There are gardens of purple hush
With no access for trespasses
No stone pillows for the restless and the lost
That wander the forever in dirty sleeves.

The air smells of dogs of war
Avoiding the whore of death
That tempts my contempt of the pleasures
Society so eagerly receives.

Being alone is my preference in life
Not the cackle of woman and bleating sheep
Or those that would lie in wait
To destroy dreams and dawns of precious sleep.

(the night belongs to stray cats & homeless old men)

Grandfather Clock / tick tick ___

Blustery she is...
The wind that crosses the River East
Shaking the remaining leaves from their wresting
Never resting she does not cease her hoary breath.
Others, stronger than I ignore her warnings
But I, hear her curse.
She is coming for the weary and infirm
She is searching for me in shudders and shakes
This is all it takes to confirm
That this year I am willing to go without a whimper.
I am ready for the kiss that takes my breath away.

WHY?

As a child I saw the gathering of suits
and dresses of somber smells.

Murmurs and the whispering of flowers
Sickly surrounding wooden chairs,
And guilt, because I did not feel anything.

'He is just a child, he does not know'.

I knew I did not like this Death thing.

Why is Uncle asleep there?
Why does she cry?
Why won't they say, so I understand?
Why can't I play?

'Shhhh, He's gone away'.

Why?

Anonymous ___

As leaves are beaten down from their homes of trees
and drops of rain rush fast towards the street corners drains
My words written in messy script on paper scraps
Are soon forgotten and do not last. I wonder...,
Was there a glimpse of gold in words unspoken?
A reflection of celebrity missed by me,
Crumpled and tossed into the waste in haste?
Probably not. But still I thought ___ maybe.
Maybe I am as among the undiscovered stars,
That flicker and shine but briefly, then burn away,
That no one sees and no one will ever know existed.

(Life is like that.)


Homeless Dreams___

I dreamt dreams as a child
And it was with fresh eyes when I woke
That I saw and remembered
What had been written in previous sleeps
Another world / the other world
That runs parallel to my own
Perhaps a step ahead or behind,
but... always, just out of reach.
A Catch of Breath___


Soon the falling will begin
Sunlight will weave in and out of leaves of trees
Changing the once dull and dusty green
Into complex tapestries
Closer to the ground
The grasses are cool and mute
Death will again dance to the tune
Of a seasons changing door
I have heard this melody before.

Breathe ___

I consider my existence and
Truth is only in the now
Everything past is muddled
Covered with a widows veil
Distorted by pride and fear

That future thing is never
What we suppose, hope or fantasize
Only the now, this moment
That eternal space between breaths
Means anything at all

Empathy with my self is all
That allows me to believe
That I deserve to exist
& gives me the will to go on.

Homeless Dust Dancer *____

Dressed in the rags of time and places
Signifying in loud incoherent phrases
With bluff and blunder
He talks a storm
Sings as thunder
Scaring tourists and their children
From tame towns that have no Zen
With once dull eyes they come
To see just another homeless bum
Believing their lives are the only way
They lie to self wishing they
Could also speak the magic of dirt and dust
And do what the dust dancer must.


* (Mike, a homeless person, lived on the sidewalk across the street) .

Inevitable___

The Autumn clouds gather &
Roll slowly across the small town quiet
Oak leaves tense in anticipation
Of the wrenching winds to come
The Birch trees tighten their iron grip
And brace their bark against the chilling
All things joined in Sighs
Breathing in the last long warmth of Sun
October's celebration colors emerge
For their frantic dance of dying
Spent, then drained
The cold shadows fell into their nocturnal slumber
Memories fall away in swirls
Mere dreams of another time
The world slips to sleep
As man once again, prepares for war.


Epiphany of the backward child ___

Sitting at the table of empty chairs
His world so small inside
Wishing he knew how to pray
How to dance
Laugh out loud
Wishing didn't work, so he stopped.

Dreamt in threes
Wept without tears
Love got lost on Monday
Never knew how much he missed
His Mothers kiss
Wishing didn't work, so he stopped.

Turned his back on the streets and roads
Never climbed the tree
Played in Clouds
Left the Porch
Splashed in puddles
Or kicked the can
Wishing didn't work, so he stopped.

(If you wish in one hand and spit in the other hand,
which hand gets filled first?)

On the Wall / a soldier's lament___

Amid the dark of night when drunks
Cease their raucous noise
Murky dews come once again
Upon the wall of stone
Standing in doorways shadow
Hearing Earth in its turning
and aging timbers in their moan
I sense the rose petal hue of dawn
Peek its eye on the edge of a mourning sky
I will to survive another night so that my bones
Might embrace again the warm before I die
The watching having been worth the while
My tour of duty over, I could then go home.

Author notes:
(' They also serve, who stand and wait.'.)
John Milton

Nautilus Shell ___

Night under a Summer's warm
I left the shell of me to see
How my sojourn thus far had come.
The breeze breathed a sigh
As I raised my eyes to see the polar star.
Through the night sky and summer trees
Transfixed and entranced, I held my gaze
and saw the universe as under an upturned bowl
the numberless days, slowly turning, yet,
Holding within my entire life.
Whether my journeys tonight end
Or the turnings cease and suspend
I am now no further than I have ever been.
I know not WHO, has thrust me thus or why
As I stand and watch the universe unfold on
The night time sky.
There are those that seem to understand and know
Though for me it is enough,
That I have lived to see
This wondrous thing called life.
(Inspired by, Omar Khyyam)

notes:
Nautilus - Living fossil

The Nautilus (in Greek 'sailor') has survived relatively unchanged for 450 million years and is one of the only shells to survive from the Dinosaurs era. This is why the Nautilus is sometimes referred to as a 'living fossil'. The Nautilus is a nocturnal creature and spends most of its time in the great depths of the ocean. The Nautilus shell, lined with mother-of-pearl, grows into increasingly larger chambers throughout its life and so has become a symbol for expansion and renewal.)

Red Dirt Road ___

Respectfully bowing at the waist, I acknowledged his presence.
'Where do you know me from? ' he asked.
‘From the land of Shu', I said.
His green drab field jJacket showed no rank.
It was his character that showed through the dirt and stank.
'I thank you for the respect you have shown... and more,
Although we were adversaries on opposing sides in the Great War.
Now, we are equal in both status and intellect'.
‘Isn't that the truth? , I said
Come share some tea and a piece of old bread.
There is nothing else left, so let us be friends.'
'We, at least both succeeded, in bringing the world to its end'.

Author notes:
('WAR! What's is it good for? NOTHING ')
...Edwin Starr

Night Shift ___

Each of us has an image of paradise,
A destinations resting reward, and yet
I am troubled as my own view is dim.
Deep down many levels beneath the sun
Where hand hewn roots of Sequoia support
the Marble hall of others, I am sweeping
the dust gatherings and collecting into piles
The cardboard refuse of gifts not meant for me.
Toiling the forever among vague others I never knew
While I was sleepwalking somewhere up there.
I go on, in the certainty that eventually
I too will rise to the Alabaster Porticos
Washed by brief sweet showers of rain.
Till then I accept my role
As Janitor, this side of the Gate.

Loss of Memory ___

Presenting masks wherever we go.
Mere representations that we give the world to see.
However, hidden deep down within and behind the eyes,
the (i) hides, wearing a mask that we expect others to recognize.
All who play the game of Life are afraid to strip away the facade
and show our true nature known only to God.
We have forgotten what we once were, before we learned
To speak lies and subterfuge
Before we stared at a dusty glass mirror,
As if that which is there, is forever.
After years of empty laughter turns to a dry sardonic grin,
Will we remember, what still lies within.

Pawned Guitar ___

Once we were as two strings on the instrument of Life's vibration.
Each different in composition and position,
Resonating one to the other in sympathetic harmonics.
A simple and pleasant chord of quiet discretion,
Far from the cacophonies of dissonance
That filled the chaos surrounding us.
Now it appears to our tone deaf ear,
That we too, have taken up noise as our chosen song.
Our once lullaby of love can no longer be heard.

Apostasy ___

'I no longer believe'!
Barely had the air escaped my lips
That my life turned left, veered into chaos & the magic left me.
The protection ripped from above my head,
As the wind rips the ribs of an umbrella,
Turning it, uselessly inside out.
The Earth continues to turn slowly,
Slightly askew.
Rolling towards the Sun.
Warming one side, then the other.
Day was done.
Night has come.

Slitherwhumping ___

Once upon a long ago
A Slitherwhumping to and fro
I'e clumb the chimmney brim
To find what I'e might know
The world had run amok and fallen to the Runes
(Runes be seen as a future already been
buried beneath the sandy dunes)
At present the air is not a gift
All thicky gloob and gone far adrift
The rain she burn the snigglebum
Once rivers flowed as crystal lead
Now filled with green and yallow scum
The fishees floating wide eyed ded
Ahhh da world
Da world
She be a' cryin
She be such a' mess
Wimmens wearing mustache
Mens be wearing dress
What kin I do?
What kin I do
To fix this globe of ‘Foam?
I know
I know
I will rite a pome'
‘Bout the starrries shine
An a' Moon
A' hanging on a cloud
and happy Willow trees
Instead of crying shrouds
I'd never take a bath
Never get dirty knees
As I'e go crawling in the grass
With Ziggy Bumblebees
I would
I would
Spread joy an happiness
But ___ alas
Sittin on this chimney brim
I see
I jus' be a boy
With a heart of glass.

(Respects & Apologies to; Lewis Carrol's 'Jabberwocky')

Novembers Embers ___

I felt the winds turning and the chilling
Come forth as Sun rays crept past
Shadowed peaks, angling rise to the north
Reflecting on the glass of panels new sleek buildings
Setting the leaves aglow in gold
Surely the seasons end went as a friend
Leaving memories to times gone by
It was Indians Summer's wave goodbye
That which was priceless began to die
Death was close at hand and winter's slow trod
According to the will of god
The cycle began its turning and
Trampled hearts in ember's burning
From dust to dust again.

Burnt Canvases ___

I tried not to let it happen
It happened all the same
I was stuck unhappily in my own time
Trapped in my own within.
Not a time others were in
(I was still back in the ‘Fifties)
When Jazz was King
When oil paints on canvas
and being ‘Cool, was my everything.
I suspect... I now look sad
Being old and still trying to act as if I am still like that
I never had that much, but it was all that I had.
So I leaned on it, as one leans on a cane
It's too late to change, so I can't & never will.

Expiration Date ___

When did I get as old as this carton of warm milk?
Yesterday I was laughing with fellow soldiers
On a sandy beach
This morning I was being helped
To cross the busy street
The curb seemed farther than I could reach
I realize I had forgot to zip my fly
The first indication that I, was losing my youth
My trousers have lost its press
I feel to be an wrinkled mess
Do I really care?
I hope I don't have that old man smell of unwashed hair
As I slowly walk in front of others in a hurry
I worry I have become a burden & no longer of any use
Its not fair
I was so good looking just yesterday
Or maybe not
Perhaps I just forgot all those other days in between.

Gypsy Recital ___

Opening her case with the edges frayed
Burnished in carved leather dyed black
She laid her strange stringed instrument
Upon its polished rosewood back

Proceeding to press her fingers
Between the inlaid ivory frets
As if it were a piano keyboard
Playing strange sounding couplets

At first
I thought her face rather plain
Until I heard the music that came
Emanating from deep down within
That changed her olive skin
Into a Regal face in classic profile

My hand fell from the one that I was with
I clutched my heart and began to drift
Sensing her spirit, I then became aware
That I could not tear myself away
From what she had become

Abruptly
The music stopped
And then too, my empty heart
Her hungry eyes became almost primitive
As I was left just barely breathing

Quietly, she said,
'Take that, you heartless Aristocrat'

It was then that I finally recognized
The daughter,
That in my youthful arrogance
I had casually abandoned.

Revenge of the Leaves of Autumn ___

They all came together in one place
Each with each and all with all
They said their piece
From early Spring to almost Fall.

They listened intent to understand
What was to become of the rest of Man
After assimilation's of the great debate
A conclusion was decided on their fate.

After man had raked, pillaged & burned their kin
Destroying memories of those within
The great leaves of trees would finally take revenge.

'Let US no longer give air for them to breathe
No longer the beauty of our Majesty
Never again provide shade from the Sun
Let them burn, as our Fathers had been done.'

From that day forward till the end
Trees and leaves held their breath
Until all the ‘Rakers had died
The most boring of deaths.

... and for any that may come long after,
That sound you hear
Of breeze in the trees
Is the leaves in their laughter.

The Olde Poet ___

My body has turned to Winter now
Though I still think it's Spring.

The wisdom I have acquired now
Has become a dusty thing.

Memories no longer found when trying now
They come and go on Raven's wings.

My passions are all brash and bravado now
Having lost my bite and lost my sting.

But that which bothers me most now,
Is the inability to balance and rhyme this darned poem.

Bluesy ___

Heavy reed tones of the tenor Sax
Soft & gentle chords of the flat string guitar
& yes, the shush of brush on snare skin drum
Cut down the lights
Let the blue cool glow seep into the soul
Gin on the rocks makes the day go away
It's Jazz night at the Hotel Bar
Drifting in and out
Stranger and regular alike
Mixing murmurs of smoke and whispers
'got's to show PROPS to the band'
The tempo slides down a notch
Clumsily, I try to look urbane as I dance with my date
True I'm glued to who I just met
Mostly jus' tryin to be cool
Cool as the night I hope never ends
Now, as I look in the misty bathroom mirror
the old man I no longer recognize, says:
'Everything for me has changed on Saturday nights'.

A New York Fall ___

Cold wind
Blown dusty and dry
Brownstone stoops
& painted iron gates
No one smiles
& no one knows their neighbors name
and yet the Sun shines on those with money
& those with none at all.

Alzheimer Images ___

The lips pursed
Not for kiss, but for curse
Pressed then held
Lest come forth
The yellowing of antique white upon the walls.
Dusty lies withheld / Silence is spilled
Truth mistaken as understood
All is hidden beneath dreams
As faces formed in a carpet of themes.
Staring up from the abyss
There is no respect found there
Only spittle and drools
& staring eyes unseeing
Blinded by memories of never was.
Such are the ways of the melting of aging
All is medical now
Furrows are re-visited upon the brow
Trips & stumbles now
Confused
Stands alone amused
Lost in thought
Offered help
Refused it all
Then,
Taken away
Taken away
Taken away.


Stranger to my Self ___

In my need to lose my past,
I've forgotten all I know,
Cep't Yesterdays never last,
Though lined up in a row.

Now I have lost the way.
Cannot find my home.
A stranger to those, that say:
' We know You and your Poem'.

Stripped of all I had acquired,
Penniless and getting old.
Viewed through eyes very tired,
My World has turned gray and cold.

The spark that lit the flame
Is damped and worn away
Only I am left to blame
For this always empty day.

If only I knew Now
What I knew back then.
I would never have allowed
This inevitable end.


Artistic Dysfunction___

If you have to explain your Poems,
Describe your Paintings,
Justify the existence of your Sculpture,
Then you have Failed.

If you have to receive affirmation from others,
To affirm your Self,
Then you have Failed.

If your center is self and the creative process,
Instead of others and the alleviation of pain and injustice,
Then you have failed.


the Outsider ___

In dreams as in waking I am nearly naked
Seeing and seen by people I do not know.
Though streets seem familiar of places been
I am and have always been alone.

Approaching encampments I smile my name
Extend my empty hand in peace
Shuffle and shly stand
Waiting for solitude's release

I will fight to be accepted, to prove my worth.
I will stand down to show my intent
I will not accept label as slave
I will not serve the corrupters Tent.

If I must remain or go alone
Bags or belongings be damned
All I ask from those within
Is - that I keep that which I am.


Never Learned to Laugh___

Lifetimes have passed,
The lips stay dry pressed.
I have heard ' mirth upon the path.
Jealous have leaned forward,
Eager to see this marvelous thing.
Always some unfortunate soul was in pain.

Laughter of small minds,
Gleefully sarcastic at the
Imposed shortcomings of another.

At seeing me they would stop and stare,
Looking for any caricature of difference.
Any blemish or distortion.
A shade of color not before seen.

Then the stabbings would begin.
Insults thrown javelin.
Hoping to rise a tear.

To them'___ that was funny,
To enjoy the susceptibilities
Of the soft unprotected underbelly.

I have always looked beyond
The mis shapen shell God has given us,
Hiding the beauty hidden within.

Looked deep down, past
The shallow Freudian mask.

Amazed at the lovliness.

Still I have never learned to laugh.

Hope I never will.


Invitation to Reality ___

Embossed, Elegant and Proper
With White Glove upon Silver Tray
(___‘He imagined) the invitation
Would surely come
To announce his required presence to attend.

His Fellow wordsmith's and other known
Notorious Poets of the Dusky Café',
would say, 'Come Speak and Bend your phrase
and entertain us, on this, your sixty-first Birthday'.

A celebration that would envy, Cyrano, Don Quixote'
and those other guys
Wine, laughter and Raucous noise
Out on the town with the boys.

With this a gentle tear did shyly slip
Past cheek, M'stache and hidden laugh.'
My life is proven to be all that I have dreamed '
(and With that___)
A crack of burn'n wood and steam
Did rise to wake from within that Barrel of fire
To warm the homeless and dispossessed,
Quaked! Don Booda,
In cold damp shoe and common cloth,
Of yesterday's still dressed.

Breath of kerosene, and hunger now asleep,
Did creep 'round to avoid the shift of wind
That hawkish did bite the face.
Covered in smoke and ash and forgotten sins
For which, he must now pay for his mistake
Of pride, rebellion and anti-social ways.

' Ahhh ___ but those were the days
Those were the days. '

So he wanders in whatever direction
The wind blows his back
Across the tracks through the brush
Of once garden's pruned and manicured
‘Til bloom of fragrant wafting airs turned to sickly smell
Of graves now frozen gates to hell.

Leaning against granite reality...
Scrapes his knuckles and barely bleeds
Feels the need to rest
Exhausted, crumples and collapses
The stars remain fixed
His world spins in ellipse
Of forever turning
Churning through the airless void.

His Belly flutters
Eyelids squint against the light
Wind whoosh chases night
Summer and being seven follow him
Down the path to a porch well worn
An unlocked door
His Mother's scolding scorn,

' Your hands are dirty and you're late for Dinner '

(About: Old homeless Man wanders into neglected cemetery,
Dies, and spends eternity in memories of Thanksgivings past.)

Stone in the stream ___

As I tried to continue my meaningless life
Grumbling, assigning all negativity to that which my eyes beheld
My spirit damped and soggy with the ‘clay of life's drudgeries
I came upon a narrowing of the way
The hall of doors closed.

Attempting to turn and return from whence I had come
The girth of my consuming, weakened by excess,
I could not.
Stifled, by the smalling enclousures
My gaze went floorward and as my chin touched my chest,
My windpipe bent, the scent of my failures filled my lungs.

As a wounded naked child in the chill of the long night
I pondered my decisions in life and could find no fault
with any... other than my self.

I had rejected the wisdom of experience
Going my own way in arrogant delusional defiance.
With too much pride and too late in the game to change,
I accepted my fate and was slowly erased from the book of life.

There are other unread books still flapping their pages in the dust.

Soon their words too, will be bleached by the Sun
and the ink washed away by Spring rains.

They usually appear darkly on the street corners of cities,
Staring vacantly... as the rush of Life moves around them,
As a Salmon swimming upstream past a wet rock
In a fast moving stream.

All just nameless poets, left behind.


Old Man with Stick ___

They have left me now
My childhood heroes.
My dreams.
My Loves long hair and dark eyes.
As wild horses chasing sunsets.
Now come the Specters of the dark unknown.
No longer warmed of the sun.
The nights of unresolved memories and unwise choices.

I chose to be & do, no other than I am.

Malcontents Epilogue ____

No matter where I am
I would rather be somewhere else
No matter who I am with
I would rather be with someone else
Or better yet ___ be alone
For me, it is better to reject the world
Than give the world the opportunity
To reject who I have decided I should be
I am a malcontent
A label I am content to live with

~~~

Have you ever seen a stand of birch
Braced against the snow?
A field untouched by buildings
Sleeping under nights blue white glow?
Or how a country road unpaved
Weaves among the barren brush?
Can you hear winter's gentle breath
Beneath full moons hush?
Then you know the peace,
That comes with an old mans death.

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ray's Favorite Writings

I SPEAK TO THEE OF LIGHT

The Master spoke…

Brethren, I speak to thee of Light:

The dark/cold void is dead,
The Light warm and life-giving

Verily I say unto thee,
Light be the very Essence of God,
Indeed, an Instrument of Creation

Every color is contained in a rainbow,
In a single droplet of gleaming dew

Observe how all life seeks the Face of God,
Ever reaching upward, toward Luminosity

Ye have but to look within thy soul or into,
The eyes of another for a flash of God Himself

Burn bright Sons and Daughters of My Sun,
Even death cannot extinguish Him from thy soul

God’s Light Everlasting…

ROTMS

**************************** **************************

ALIVENESS
There’s an entire ocean,
In a single raindrop!

A Universe in your blood!

On this small planet,
Why selfish pleasures?

Why endless reaching?

Are you hoping this will,
Make you feel more alive?

Go within…

Swim in your aliveness
Feel the vastness...
Know your True Self

ROTMS
(Inspired by Rumi)

***************************************** ****************

AUTUMN ROSE

Thou wast a strange autumn rose that,
by withering brought Winter’s wind

Having heard the song that called thee home;
Thou escaped confining cage and flew…
Gone to a secret world, through transformation

What use was thy crown of petals?
What use was thy beauty?

When it was thine to become the Sun!

ROTMS

**************************** *************************


BEAUTY
Beauty, you enter the soul like a man
walks into a blossomed orchard in spring

Beauty, come to me that way again
Like inspiration in an artist’s mind
Making art before it comes into being

Beauty, you guard your silence perfectly
like a wineskin that does not leak

Beauty, you live where God lives...
As your soul was strong enough to take you there

ROTMS

**************************** ****************************

BEFORE

Great Masters existed before Earth was created;

Before all was brought into existence
They stood chin high in wisdom

Before materiality, they knew what it was
like to be trapped inside matter

Before the body, they’d lived many lifetimes

Before seeds, they ate bread from harvest grain

Before oceans, they strung pearls

Where can you find such a Great Master?

Look within

ROTMS

**************************** ****************************


CIRCLES IN THE SKY

The way of love is not subtle
Love’s door may open to devastation

Birds make great circles in the sky, declaring freedom
How do they know that?
They fall and in falling they’re given wings

Love is true freedom

(Inspired by Master Rumi)
ROTMS

******************************** ************************

COSMIC CHILD

Beloved, you are a Cosmic Child of God
Created more of light, than simple matter
If conscious of your power you’d be awed
Twas you that helped build Jacob’s ladder

ROTMS

**************************** ****************************
COSMIC SPECK

Look at me;
A Cosmic speck, that
Can barely be seen
Look at my eyes
They are so small
Yet they see
Enormous things

ROTMS
******************************** ********************
EYES WIDE SHUT

There are those with open eyes
Whose hearts are closed
What do they see?

A Material world

But someone whose love is aware
Even with eyes that sleep
He or she shall wake up thousands of others

If you are not one of those light-filled lovers
Restrain your body’s intense desires
Limit how much you eat
Sleep not from laziness

If awake in your casket
Sleep long and soundly
Your spirit is out roaming and working
To the highest levels
Your eyes may rest but love needs no rest

You have a Higher Self inside
That listens for what delights the Soul

ROTMS
(Inspired by the brilliance of Rumi)

***************************************** ***************

FROM GRAPE TO WINE

If you were to say I dont exist
This grape would not argue

Longing to be wine
Makes me disreputable
Lowers self respect

A grape begins to become wine when it says
“Pressure is necessary to burst open”

Sweet wine flows from surrender

ROTMS
******************************** **************************
GRIEF

I saw grief drinking a cup of sorrow;

I called out,
It tastes sweet, does it not? ”

Grief answered;

“Oh, you’ve caught me and ruined my business,
How can I sell sorrow, when you know its a blessing? ”

(Inspired by Rumi)

ROTMS
******************************** *********************

I AM A DIVINE ACT OF GOD

(Prayer)

I am a Divine Act of God;
Here, now and forever
I am self contained
Whole
Healed in every cell of my body

God’s Light fills me
Light I give freely to all

I am compassion, peace, love
I am happiness, joy
I am grateful

I am

ROTMS

**************************** ***************************
LORD OF EARTH and SKY

Be aware;

The Lord God is here!

In the rumble of thunder
In lightning
In clouds…His exhalation

You guess, before you speak
He knows, before you speak

You hate your brother
He loves you both

God Lives in all His Creation

Everything Mirrors God
Be of good cheer Beloved
Have courage
Look into a mirror…

“Behold the Face of God”

ROTMS

(Inspired by Master Rumi)

***************************************** ***********
LOVE ENTERS...

Love comes in;

Only in this one tender moment,
Can I deliver you from yourself

Now my love;
Be still...
Quiet

My mouth is burning with sweetness

ROTMS

(Dedicated to the Brilliance of Rumi)

***************************************** *****************

LOVE IS THE WAY

Love is the way;
Messengers from the
Mysteries tell us this

Love is The Mother
We are her children
She shines within us

She is visible when we trust
Invisible when we lose trust

Feel Her…
Shine brightly beloved

(Inspired by the brilliance of Rumi)

***************************************** ************
LOVE KNOWS THE WAY HOME

We’ve had full abundance
Now is the time for modesty

Love is pulling us back to school
Love wants us free of resentment
Love wants us to release impulses
Misguiding, confusing our souls

We’re asleep
Yet
Saints keep sprinkling water on our faces

Love reveals what we need to know soon enough

Then we shall awaken…

ROTMS

(Inspired by Rumi)

***************************************** ****************
LOVERS PREORDAINED

The moment I heard my first love story
I started looking for you
Not knowing how blind that could be

After much suffering I realized;
Lovers do not meet somewhere by chance
Lovers cannot be match made by others

Lovers are in each other all along
Sanctified by God, witnessed by Angels

Others dropped away, there you were…

ROTMS
(To Master Rumi)

***************************************** *****************
MICRO-COSMIC HUMANS

Humans look outside themselves
Wasting time with wails ‘n groans
Ignore Higher-Self, they've shelved
Living in their bag of blood ‘n bones

(Inspired by Rumi’s brilliance)

ROTMS

**************************** *************************
MOSQUITOES COMPLAINED

One day a swarm of mosquitoes complained to God

“Lord God we must protest! ”

“What is it My Children? ”

We want You to still the Wind”

“Why? ”

“Because the Wind scatters our swarm”

“Ah I See”…God summoned the Wind

Within moments Wind arrived

God Spoke, “Wind, the mosquitoes have brought suit”

Wind replied “Where are my accusers? ”

'Gone…lost within thee Wind'

So it is when Seekers dispute God’s Creation

ROTMS

(Inspired by the brilliance of Rumi)

***************************************** ****************
MULTI-DIMENSIONAL MAN

A day of understanding is upon us
When all wonders are revealed
When mankind claims full aliveness
When occult is no more concealed

Brought to light are 10 dimensions
Below and above the present third
Known the truth of God’s Intention
Brought to light HisLiving Word”

We've but to open heart and soul
Reap rewards promised long ago
Broken hearts shall be made whole
Nurtured souls again shall grow

Rejoice dear Brethren and give thanks
For ye shall soon join Heaven’s ranks

ROTMS

**************************** ******************************
MY KNOWING SOUL (Prayer)

My knowing soul;
You are a Master
A Buddha, a Jesus…

Why do I remain blind in your presence?

You are Joseph at the bottom of his well
Constantly working, but you dont get paid
Because what you do seems trivial, like play

My knowing soul;
Crush my ego
Demolish my pride
Drown my selfishness

Help me;
Understand your value
Accept your wisdom
Be at peace
Feel compassion
Know love

(Dedicated to the brilliance of Rumi)
ROTMS

******************************** *********************
NAUGHTY WORDS!

(To Poets)

Often words are but tiny turds of humor and of wit,
Flotsam in a poets mind…“Oh my, what junk, what shit! ”

Alas, its true at times words can form a perfect line,
How wonderful, how clever” the words are so sublime

When all is said 'n done, its truth thats clear 'n real,
By writing what we see 'n hear...especially what we feel

Write on poets!

There be no rules that we must heed or follow
Drink in the gifts of words sweet chums...
But dont forget to swallow!

ROTMS

**************************** ***********************************
NIGHT SKY

Gaze upon star lighted sky
In awe of a universe so vast
God’s Love it doth exemplify
Sublime beauty unsurpassed

ROTMS

**************************** *************************
NIGHTINGALE’S SONG

A delegation of birds petitioned God

“Why is it you never chastise the nightingale? ”

God bid nightingale to speak;

My way, she explained is different
March to June I sing
The other nine months, while others
Continue chirping, I am silent”

Sing your sweet songs beloved
While your Brethren clatter about
But know when to be silent...
That God may speak to you

(Inspired by Rumi)

ROTMS

**************************** ****************************
NOCTURNAL TRANSMISSIONS

At night in dreams she comes to me
In full length gown with veil of lace
With nobility, grace, grand authority
Gives sweet kiss ‘n warm embrace

Sits face-to-face with me then speaks
Of her many travels to distant places
Like Istanbul, Beijing, Mozambique
Of other lands she sometime graces

Reveals beauty of God’s Creation
The value of a loving heart, soul
The power of prayer, meditation
About man’s longing to be whole

My Guardian Angel then takes flight
As night gives way to morning light

ROTMS

**************************** **************************
NOMAD

I wander 'cross these lands
Mountains to deep blue seas
Forests, valleys, desert sands
Yet, my roots are inside of me

(Inspired by Julie Delpy)
ROTMS

******************************** ***********************
OBSESSION

Phant om stalks a worried mind
Incites a single thought to spin
All sense of reason struck blind
Restored thru mental discipline

ROTMS

**************************** ***************************
OCEANIA

(To the Islands of Hawaii)

Strand of pearls broken
Strewn ‘cross vast waters
Minute volcanic tokens
Gaia's Sons ‘n Daughters

ROTMS

**************************** *************************
OPEN VESSEL

Songbirds bring relief to my longing

I am just as ecstatic as they are, but
have nothing to sing

Please, goddess of song,
practice a song through me

I am thy open vessel…

ROTMS

**************************** ****************************
PASSION TAKES FLIGHT

Walk any crowded city street
See vacant stares on a sea of faces
How stiff they walk on frozen feet
Of long forgotten social graces

Is passion within human hearts gone
As far as knowing eyes can see?
Love and joy no longer paragon
'Lord', why wont they look at me?

Your passion Vincent helps them find wings
As paint on canvas did so long ago
Lovely are the words your paintings sing
As if by magic, vivid flowers seem to grow

Soon, God’s Hands shall touch hearts again
Of long forgotten buried and the walking dead
Made afresh what was once arcane
The Will of God shall once more embed

Countless souls shall launch an upward flight
None shall rest, until reached, Eternal Light

ROTMS

**************************** *****************************
PERILOUS LOVE

Love comes with a sharp knife
Not some shy and dull excuse
Love does not fear for its reputation

Love is a madman working wild schemes
Tearing off his clothes
Drinking poison
Recklessly choosing annihilation

Love is a tiny spider trying to
wrap an enormous wasp

Imagine the spider web woven across
the tomb where Jesus slept

Beloved, you have been walking the ocean’s edge
holding up your skirts to keep them dry

Beloved, you must dive deeper
A thousand times deeper

(Inspired by Rumi)
ROTMS

******************************** ************************
PERSION MOTHER'S TEARS

A Persian woman cries a mother’s tears
She ‘n son seek shelter in a tattered tent
A dead husband cannot sooth their fear
He fell victim to a cluster-bomb fragment

ROTMS

**************************** ***************************
PLAY ME GENTLY

Pluck mine strings gently dear
My soul’s song offers to delight
Even angels dare not interfere
With our merriment tonight

ROTMS

**************************** *******************************
POET MASTERS OF OLD

Khayyam, Gibran and Rumi
Word Masters of love and truth
Great souls that speak to me
Since I was a wide-eyed-youth

ROTMS

**************************** *********************************
POWER OF WORDS

Written words are very powerful
Able to influence and elicit change

More powerful yet are spoken words
Birthed in the mind, delivered through
Tongue, diaphragm and lungs
Working in concert to deliver voice
Intelligent vibrations creating reality

Somewhere an angry someone screams
I hate you
Words moving through space unhindered
Past countless stars in countless galaxies
Wreaking endless havoc on God’s Creation

Think!

With your heart before speaking
Glorify the positive power of words
Destruction will cease and balance restored

ROTMS

**************************** ********************************
PRICELESS LOVE

I'd forsake a million roses
to simply see her pretty face
Trade a thousand words of love
for one tender embrace

Gift all my possessions
and never feel amiss
If she'd but share with me
one romantic kiss

To entwine as one,
would truly be divine
indeed this sacred act of love
would surely make her mine

ROTMS

**************************** *********************************
RAIN

Raindrops fall in the gray of morn
Care not what they wet and sate
'Law of gravity' they dare scorn
As dark sea below determines fate

Droplets unite to swell great oceans
With playful merriment and mirth
Pleased to play out impulsive notions
That they may flow again on Mother Earth

Emerald waters eager to ascend once more
Taunt ‘n tease the summer sun to calefaction
Vaporous clouds form, as many times before
Heaven’s call doth grant the water satisfaction

God Be Great and God Be Wise
When He Commands,
“Great Waters Rise! ”

ROTMS

*************************** ********************************
'RAYMOND”

(To Dad)

How tall he sat upon
his black leather saddle

He wore a Stetson hat
boots ‘n chaps

Calloused hands
body strong ‘n agile

Sharp spurs ‘n western shirts
with pearl snaps

A “roll-your-own” rest-easy
’tween chapped lips

“Bull Durham” tag
dangled from shirt pocket

Cigars he’d smoke
when “In the chips'

While astride his favorite hoss
“Black Rocket”

His spurs did jingle,
on line-shack boards

At night we’d braid rawhide
ropes ‘n quirts

We Sipped spring water
from hollow gourds

By crackling fire
we’d darn socks ‘n mend
torn ‘n tattered shirts

My 13th year was spent
on a ranch dad worked
Did change my life

The art of “ridin, huntin,
ropin, camp cookin” I did learn

first chew of tobacco,
A new ‘n shiny
stockmen’s knife

Acrid smoke,
Bleating calves,
Branded hides ‘n
memories still burn

The last of a dying breed
of men my dad was

Once a year
with pockets full of silver,
He’d ride into town
to drink ‘n dance
with whores ‘n peers

Although I suffered when
he wandered off I'd forgive

Because…

He truly walked amongst
a hearty group of pioneers

Thank you dad
for all you gave to me

The laughter, campfires,
deer hunts ‘n fun

With new-eyes
the great wonders
of nature I now see

I love ‘n miss you Dad,
You tough, ornery,
“Son-of-a-Gun”

ROTMS

**************************** *****************************
RITUAL

Pr ay the prayer that is the essence
of every ritual;

GOD

I have no hope, I am torn to shreds.
You are my first, last and only refuge.”

Dont pray daily prayers like a bird,
pecking its head up and down.

Indeed, prayer is an egg.
Hatch out all helplessness inside.

(Inspired by the brilliance of Rumi)
ROTMS

******************************** **************************

RUCKSACK FULL OF STONES

A Babe…
Born perfect, innocent, ready
Cast into a corrupt world

Parents eagerly present
A family heirloom
A patchwork rucksack
Part-filled with stones
To a wide-eyed child

Begins the journey…

Child given stones of many shapes, sizes
Stones of pity, sorrow, fear, trauma
Stones filled with words like “No”
Stones filled with ugly phrases
Stones filled with abuse, punishment, pain

Rucksack seams burgeon

A growing Soul shouts

“Enough”

Emptying begins…

Through lessons, experiences, prayer
One by one
Removed the stones
Rucksack lightens
By the Grace of God,
Finally emptied

Another Babe born
Rucksack beckons

Not this time”

Rucksack flung
Into Wisdom’s Fire

Consumed

Ends a vicious cycle…

ROTMS

********************** ***************************************

RU MI SPOKE TO ME

He came at twilight
Whispering wise words
I failed to heed them
This rueful acolyte

(A time when I did not believe)
ROTMS

******************************** ***************************
SHAKE THE DREAMS FROM YOUR HAIR

Awaken!

”Shake the dreams from your hair”
See the surreality you create around you

Do you know the power of your actions?
Do you see the rampant chaos, destruction?

Why do you blame God for your mischief?
Why do you blame others for your misdeeds?
Whilst goaded/aided by Satan posing as God!

Poor choices and judgments belong to man alone;

Take responsibility
Forgive yourself
Forgive others
Atone through service
Redeem through love

Comes a day filled with blinding brilliance,
Behold the Face of God…


(The title of this poem was inspired by Jim Morrison of the Doors)

ROTMS

**************************** *******************************
Spiritus Practicum

Forsooth beloveds;

'Tis I……Pan
Mystic, poet and Faun
Indeed a loose arrow
In flight, though aimless

Rest easy my children
Destination matters not
Until your junket ends
Andthe grim one” lay claim

Dance rather than sit
Sing don't complain
Make-Merry, then Mary make
Drink Huxley’s soma
Eat from nature’s Cornucopia

Above all…laugh, cry and feel
Then...
Ye shall truly know what’s real

ROTMS

**************************** ********************************
STILLNESS

I was content enough to stay still
Inside the pearl
Inside my shell

But a hurricane of experience
lashed me out of hiding and
pushed me toward shore

The sea told me her secrets

I slept like fog against a cliff…

In stillness

(Inspired by Rumi)

ROTMS

**************************** *********************************
STONES and THORNS

Are you bewildered?
Why do you walk on stones and thorns with bare feet?

Beloved, dont you know lovers do not walk on feet?
They walk on love.

A lover’s journey is neither short nor long,
A lover’s journey is timeless…endless

A precious journey guided by a fervent heart

ROTMS
(Inspired by Master Rumi)

***************************************** ******************
SWEET SURRENDER

Jesus is back.
If you do not feel in yourself
the freshness of Jesus,
be Joseph.

Weep and then smile.
Do not pretend to know something
you have not experienced.

There is a necessary dying.
Then Jesus breathes again.

Very little grows on jagged rock.
Be the ground.
Be crumbled.
So wildflowers will come up
where you are.

You have been stony for too many years.
Try something different…

“Surrender”

(Inspired by the brilliance of Rumi)
ROTMS

******************************** **************************
THE ANCIENT MAYANS KNEW...

Mayans knew Earth’s spin one day would still
When time and space would find a proper end
After evil ate its greedy fill
When iron-will of man would finally bend

Message Mayans left was carved in stone
So those that followed could plainly see
A day when 'The Beast' would be dethroned
Restored to Earth peace and harmony

Nears a day, a Host of Angels are deployed
To every dark corner of this troubled Earth
Evil empires' that rule shall be destroyed
As Earth’s pregnant belly readies for rebirth

A birth of greater consciousness for all
Countless souls shall begin to crowd and fill
Heavens Wondrous Kingdom-Hall
Where souls once more accept God's Will

ROTMS

**************************** *******************************
THE BEAUTY OF LOVE

Today like every day, you may
Wake up empty and frightened.

Do not open the door to your study and begin reading,
Rather take down a musical instrument and play.

Beloved, let the beauty of love be what you do.

There are hundreds of ways to be grateful.

(Inspired by Rumi)
ROTMS

******************************** ***************************
THE CHESTNUT STALLION

(To horse lovers)

He was born of noble blood
A great Chestnut Stallion
No man would ever mount him
Mum came by Spanish Galleon

In spring the mare did foal
A gangly, unsure colt
Possessed he a great soul
Betwixt eyes a thunderbolt

Before long grew strong ‘n fast
Quite something this chestnut hoss
He lived with herd on prairie vast
‘Twas clear one day he’d be boss

Challenge came one summer day
Chestnut called out “Old Roan”
A mighty fight they'd display
The old chief finally dethroned

Adrenalin ran thru Stallion’s blood
Eyes flashed red at nervous herd
His coat matted with gore ‘n mud
Banished Roan, ran off East-ward

Chestnut ringed herd into tight band
They set off for distant winter range
Away from winter kill, to canyon land
Instinctive migration, timeless change

Back to prairie homeland come spring
New foals’ pranced in tall green grass
Hawks circled above, Larks did sing
Frozen time, while seasons’ passed

Stood guard their “Chestnut Stallion”
Who’s mum came by Spanish galleon

ROTMS

**************************** *********************************
THE PROPHET

In his dream an old man appeared.
“Good king, I have news”

“Tomorrow a stranger will come.
I sent for him. Hes a prophet you can trust.
Listen to him.”

As dawn rose, the king was sitting in the
watchtower on the roof.

He saw someone coming.
He ran to meet this guest.
Their souls knit together,
without stitch or seam.

The king opened his arms and
held the prophet close to him.
He led him to the head table.
They dined.

At last I have found what only
patience can bring. This one whose
face answers any question and who
simply by looking can loosen the
knot of intellectual discussion.”

The king touched the prophet’s arm,
and said “Speak to me of Jerusalem”

The prophet smiled…

(Inspired by the brilliance of Rumi)

ROTMS

**************************** ********************************
THE SIREN

With my soul she nearly did abscond
A Siren/Temptress born of turbid sea
‘Twas good, I was chained ‘n bound
At mast, or she'd stole the best of me

ROTMS

**************************** *******************************
THE WARRIOR WAY

With heart...
A warrior gathers weapons from this world
Objects of power along life's path
Ever seeking the favor of Earth Spirits’

A warrior does not prepare to die
A warrior only prepares to battle

Every battle is a warrior’s last
Outcome matters little to him

At death a warrior’s Impeccable-Will flows
Upward...
To the Light that gave him life

ROTMS

************************ ************************************
THIRD EYE

A tiny gland betwixt your eyes, smaller than a pea
Ready to serve through good intent ‘n meditation
A second sight within, that helps you know ‘n see
Helps express the higher self, upon full activation

ROTMS

****************** ******************************************
THI RST FOR FRIENDSHIP

Im grateful when connected to you dear friend (my taste of sweetness)

You, that makes an oak tree strong and a rose a rose

You give me friendship, that for some is the oldest thirst there is
I do not measure friendship in a cup of tea

Im a fish, you’re the moon
You cannot touch me...
But you’re light fills the ocean I swim in

ROTMS
(Inspired by Rumi)

***************************************** ******************
THOUGHT AND LIGHT

Thought and light can travel anywhere
Through space and time at will, do tear
Both unencumbered by gravity or mass
Transcend complications and morass

ROTMS

**************************** *********************************
THREE MONKEYS…PLUS ONE

First monkey covered his eyes and spoke,
“See no evil”...
By refusing to see and confronting evil
Victims are born of doubt, guilt and fear
Clear sight sheds light and illumines evil

Second monkey covered his ears and spoke,
“Hear no evil”...
By refusing to hear the voice of evil one cannot know truth
Truth is discerned by the heart and mind
Voicing truth creates a vibration that dis-integrates evil

Third monkey covered his mouth and thought,
“Speak no evil”...
Evil cannot manifest if one thinks before speaking

Fourth monkey opened his mouth and spoke,
“Do no evil”...
This was the wisest monkey of all

ROTMS

************************* ***********************************
TORCH AFTER TORCH

Do you prefer;
As ravens do
Winter’s chill
Empty limbs
Bareness?

Perhaps;

Springs lushness
New leaves forming
Roses opening
Night birds singing?

Let LOVE dissolve you into
the moment of the Season
or you will light torch
after torch trying to find
what's already in front of you

(Inspired by the brilliance of Rumi)
ROTMS

******************************** *****************************
TZOLK’IN REMEMBERS

I remember everything that happened before 2012 AD,
as I watched fundamentalist, fanaticism grip the world.
This vile trigger lay deep in the human soul. They were
sexually excited about the end of the world. They lusted
over this, because they would not have to solve any of their
own problems. Lurking deep in their soul was the desire
to die rather than to take responsibility for Mother Earth.

They were choking in the garbage of their own making.
Great souls that walked the Earth kept absorbing the waste,
but still man’s inner and outer garbage burgeoned.
Men built bigger and deadlier weapons.
Great nations made war against and plundered smaller nations.
They built bigger cities, and covered themselves with layers of possessions.
They consumed anything to avoid realizing their own inner emptiness.
They waited…
2012 AD came and nothing happened.”

(Dedicated to Barbara for inspiring this poem)

ROTMS

**************************** *********************************
UNDRESS, STAND NAKED...

Learn the alchemy true Mystics know;

The instant you accept hardship given you
Doors open

Welcome adversity, as friend

Make light of what torment offers

Sorrows are but old clothes, indeed rags
Covered by a tattered threadbare coat

Undress thy naked body underneath
Behold the sweetness that comes after grief

ROTMS
(Inspired by Master Rumi)

***************************************** *******************
UNHAPPY WITH WHOM YOU ARE?

Japanese redo their eyes
Iranians redo their nose
Hollywood breasts resize
All lust designer clothes

Obese want to be slim
Slim desire bigger boobs
Buy memberships at gyms
While kids go the down tubes

Lawyer’s want to be politicians
Politicians consult and lobby
Not toil, just blind ambition
Indeed, life to them is just a hobby

They know not we’re all the same
Below the skin and in our hearts
Just have self esteem to claim
Place horse back in front of cart

On Earth, God creates all equal
At Least until He plays our sequel

ROTMS

**************************** ******************************
UNICORN

Coat and mane as white as snow
Between its eyes a spiraled horn
Piercing blue eyes, a true albino
This creature known as Unicorn

Neither of male or female gender
Unicorns are imagined into being
Strong, courageous soul-menders
Given to human beings for seeing

No mans ever tamed this shy beast
Save a virgin girl unafraid to weep
Lured by her soulful song released
Head upon her lap it goes to sleep

Unicorns dream wishes into reality
By transcending human sensuality

ROTMS

**************************** *******************************
UNIVERSAL REASON

The universe is Divine Law
Indeed, a Reasonable Father

When you feel ungrateful
The shape of the world
seems mean and ugly

Make peace with Father
Then every experience
fills with immediacy

Love this, be not bored
Beauty constantly wells up like
the noise of a brook in Spring

Tree limbs rise and fall
their ecstatic arms

Leaves talk poetry together
making fresh metaphors

The opinion of this poem is
of great optimism for the future

But Father Reason says;

No need to announce the future
This now is it!
Your deepest need and desire
is satisfied by the energy of this
moment held in your hand

(Inspired by the brilliance of Rumi)
ROTMS

******************************** ****************************
USING FEAR

A donkey turning a millstone is not trying
to press oil from seeds. He is running away
from the blow that was just struck and is hoping
to avoid the next.

For the same reason, an ox takes a load of
baggage wherever you want him to.

We look to ease our pain, this keeps civilization
moving along, with fear as the motivator.

Allow fear to be your master teacher, not a task master
ROTMS

******************************** ****************************
WARRIORS & PACIFISTS

Brother, you choose to walk a warriors path
I choose to walk a path to lasting peace
World has both, so please curtail thy wrath
There’s room for both, to ply our expertise

ROTMS

**************************** ********************************
WHAT PLANET ARE YOU FROM?

Human beings are bound to earth
By gravity, atmosphere and water
Basic elements, a few pennies worth
Indeed, terrestrial Sons ‘n Daughters

What happens when our bodies shed?
When spirit takes its upward flight
When gone are guilt, fear and dread
When souls are called back to the light

Perhaps free spirits visit other places
Strange planets inhabited before
Filled with beings with familiar faces
You return again as friend ‘n savior?

Look within, inquire where you’ve been
B’cuz there’s more than what’s under skin

ROTMS

**************************** *******************************
WHAT’S MY WORTH?

I ask which one is worth more?
To be amongst a crowd or my solitude?
Power over others or personal freedom?

A little while alone in my room is of more
value than anything given to me

What’s my worth?
My worth is not a million dollars
My worth is a million moments
ROTMS

************************* **********************************
WHY GOD LOVES ME

In a dream, God spoke to me;

You are my Son and I love you

I replied,
I feel your generosity Lord, but must ask
what is it in me that causes your love?

God explained;

You have seen a small child with its mother
It does not know anyone else exists

The mother scolds, praises, or perhaps
a little slap, but the child still reaches
wanting to be held by her

Disappointment, elation matter not
There is only one direction that the child turns

That is how you are with Me”

(Inspired by Rumi)
ROTMS

******************************** *****************************
WHY IS IT?

You ask;

“Why is it Ray you always dress in black?
Do you mourn the dying and the dead?
Is it because soldiers come home in sacks,
Or on TV see jihad Muslims behead? ”

“Do you mourn Mother Earth they trash?
For laying waste to once lush forest lands?
A greedy few who sell their souls for cash,
Who on Liberty’s apron wipe their bloody hands? ”

I answer;

Today and more tomorrows, I’ll wear black
Till peace upon a troubled Earth prevails
When evil ones let go and give power back
When balance returns toJustice Scales”

ROTMS

**************************** ********************************
WINDOWS TO THE SOUL

Look deep into eyes of another
Into the windows of their soul
You’ll find they’re sister or brother
This truth shall make you whole

ROTMS

**************************** *********************************
A WORLD WITHOUT MUSIC?

A World without music
Is a World stricken mute
Dead all things acoustic
Humankind left destitute

ROTMS

**************************** *********************************
YOU SPEAK OF LOVE…

Brethren;

You speak of love whilst spewing hate
I cannot shake a hand holding a sword
I pray my plea for peace be not too late
'Fore destroyed the Earth we once adored

Come sit with me my zealous friends
Let us share a meal and sweet wine
Let's discuss what future may portend
I trust ye hear me and wont decline

There stands a chance for lasting peace
When past disputes are forever set aside
When war and conflict finally cease
When good will, brotherhood abide

God Himself will surely smile
After eons of humankind denial

ROTMS

**************************** ********************************
YOYO ME

Sometimes Im up
Sometimes down
Sometimes Smile
Sometimes frown

Sometimes happy
Sometimes sad
Sometimes sappy
Sometimes mad

Sometimes pull
Sometimes push
Sometimes fall
Flat on my tush

Its all about being human you see
This up ‘n down, up ‘n down yoyo me

ROTMS

**************************** *********************************

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