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Monday, April 25, 2016

A Long Time Ago..

Seemingly a party quests in the Greens
For adventure and riches, but justice and peace, too
And when whom might happen through
Mercs who ride for home and health
Melieuing about with horses around
While above town in High castle there's dancing
A masquerade ball with masks and all prancing get-down
And a music sweet mechanical thing full of harpsichord

At the inn the adventurers sweep and wash for nights fare
The mercs kick back and converse having ridden in.
And innkeeper at bar listens quietly as hearth keeps warm,
Pulling draughts from warm pig barrels on wall with flat beer
Keeping the mud and hard roads of worlds outside the wall,
While townsfolk around town close shutters as sunset draws down

Wherefore do the soldiers' hearts wander?
What are adventurer's eager for?
Who does innkeeper acclaim?
Glory? Justice? Peace? All these things...
Having committed soul to distressing tasks...
Having nibbled horror...

Wherefore do children play?
What are families eager for?
Who does mayor acclaim?
Faith? Hope? Charity? All these things...
Having committed souls to Lords...
Having nibbled ambrosia...

Wherefore do musicians sit?
What are dances eager for?
Whom does the king acclaim?
Respect? Power? Money? All these things...
Having committed soul to water and land...
Having nibbled innocence...

The greenswathed graveyard grows hoary with moss
A skeleton seeking lost life grips fresh earth crawling out
The Raven watches around, the Rat seeks another shiny thing
As silver light casts around from moon past Cathedral
A solemn thing with pooled time, while streets passing...
Channel this into shoots and eddying pools of flowing crowds
On busier days and nights through trees and shops to sides
With lantern lit by-ways and alleys of timber-framed and cob-filled spaces.
This is space, but is also time, interchangeably.
Sources feed and are filled, shoots still... Pools stream...
Like the creek that washes clean with each rainfall.
This is time, this is space, both fast and slow... And sometimes paused...
And sometimes lost to history.
Flowing to free, and freeing to flow:
This thing called life in Time and Space and Eternity.

Thursday, April 21, 2016

Mr. Seedmore

There was a mouse
And on top of hat it crawled
A biIIGG Top Hat with ribbon wrapped

Down in the cellar
Where a tallow candle burned
so sloOOWLY 48 Hour or longer

Mr Mouse crawled around
Where no owl spied him found
but spyYYING Wife cried to him

Saying, "Seedmore, bring some cheese"
"bring the baAACON! bring the peas!"
while scuRRYING in pantries deep

"Bring some nuts, bring some seeds"
and stuuFFING his cheeks
He'd please her much and wanton needs

A curious breath would follow
Whenever they finished filling shopping list
An unseen mouth, with curious tongue, seemed to complain

With 6 meals a day it was quite confirmed
There was someone else of conscious down here
Something or SomeONE ELSE that gained

Once a week it would come unbolted
And his soul this would seek
Darkly in the pantry deep

He'd run high and crawl low, He'd dodge things it threw,
And it would chant his sins, this earthy ghoul
And t'would protest all day long

So him and the missus packed up and moved
Back to the woald and the sunshine and the crew
But he was touched and it had followed, TOO!

The ghoul of earthly deeps was in his fur and tail
And once a week still he remembers some of hell seen
But some of air and earth helps dispel that chanting and recanting

Some of rain and sun helps to heal his churning tail and heady keep

Wednesday, April 20, 2016

Memorandum

The chimes cling
Once again a raven gets a white feather
Again cling rings the chime
A gray hair appears on a lover
More chimes sing
Silver thread is filigreed

The chimes cling
The gold plated turns silver
Again cling rings the chime
A tree becomes sylvan
More chimes sing
Lumber becomes weathered

The chimes ring
The rain becomes river
Again sing the chimes
Sunshine glints in eye
More chimes cling and clatter
Dreams float in from never
To supercede all of reality

Thursday, April 14, 2016

Inna Cup of Tea

The world is too busy
For me
As I sit quietly still
Listening to my breath
Feeling the earth
Drag me in to itself

Maybe it's my Life
That is too busy for me
But something speeds up
And leaves me behind
As I slow my heartbeat

Perhaps it is the walls
That appear to go nowhere



Perhaps it's Father Time
Singing the season's soliloquy



Or perhaps it is my mind, I
That catches up to me...
And me making time
For myself
Wherein all healing
Comes from
To bless souls' sunrise
And extend days' end

All that and more is possible
Dreamed here
And extended
To farthest shore
And ground swelling back
A melody's ancient tale
Of harmony and perseverance


Imaginary Math

The music tunes my head
And I imagine
sub-ether programming
From packaged and portable
Tune and avatar wrapped in
Sub-conscious to sub-conscious
Communiqae relations
Like beta-waves
Relating proper
OCD criteria
For comfort
Of subliminal
Rightness with God.
Ain't that a Crock!?
But I do imagine
Many things
Feelings, sounds, sights
Taste and smells
AND OF COURSE
My heart reacts
Yours would too I bet
Considering how already
It does to the invisible
Don't think of pineapples
Don't think of pineapples
Don't think of pineapples
And their prickly skin
Nor their sweet and sour yellow flesh

Our hearts react
And now my brain
Is trying to predict
Whether I can find a treat
In the hidden
Pantry
Of my home.
I'd ask my cat
But I suspect she
Guesses sometimes
The accurate answer.
But she's right 100%
Of the time
With her companionship.
Can she read
My Mind?

F*n Ironic


Listening to the rain
Cascade louder than fish tank or sunshine
Hides my Smile
But I have to wonder
what great adventure
Is hiding in my smile
that looks like resting dick face.
I do not see myself with my eyes
And often mirrors
Are not like the comfort of rain.
The rain soothes boredom
My mirror?
It spikes my brain
It says this is you
But ignores my chores
My family
And my dreams
It ignores me
And all 6500 Pennsylvanian bones of me
In my foot alone.
And to wit,
Doesn't see my foot at all.
The rain touches everything
The rain makes stream river and lake
And does not judge
Those that drink from it's edge
And with its thousand
Knives
Carves the world
Into a thousand years
But a mirror?
It just sits there
And tells me
I'm ugly
As a perfectly useless
Work of space.

Wednesday, April 13, 2016

House of Gorgeous -- #NaPoWriMo prompt

Many riches are coming to you!
A bit of money, but that is a thing isn't it
Sweet music, honeyed tongues, seraphic insight...
These too make a man rich, as well as.

My heart's dream... a bit of magic..
Spandex yoga pants...  dance...  beer..
A poignant poem, movie, or speech..
A franchise with cheeses..
A lady in blue sweatshirt... and smile..
An unseen sparkle... a tinder flame...

Like fish they swim in my dreams...
They swim toward me...
And swimming in my head like a vixen
I rise to meet and greet.

And clear air makes me breath easier,
Crisp.. it invigorates bones Free
And a bit of profundity can purchase things
That bring smiles or ease
And bunny that seeks me as I chase her
Brings me coming to new outlook
And spreads life spent in love
Brings warmth to worlds
And years spinning seasons
Brings riches from beyond eternity's blind progress.

For what is this world without work and love?
A life without sunshine and diamonds...
A life without smiles..