Into the Blue…

Archive for September, 2013

Sweet William

Sweet William in the morning stands
in forest’’s airy light.
A raven guard on oat gold moors,
a spirit burning bright.
He waits upon the noble path
of passage without fear.
He waits to show the clan he loves
their way when they draw near.
Sweet William came to guard this road
one green green summer’’s day-
when in his garden warm and loved
his heart was called away.
And now he waits, a raven guard,
on highland moors of gold.
He waits for those – the clan he loves –
as spirit bright and bold.

August 2008

Fine Print

Explain again, please
why my family is expected
to pay your family
fees, goods, and services
so that I can
be forced to
bind myself to you
in contractual ways
that strip me
of my rights
myself
my soul?

April 2005

Honored Dead

And now you are the honored dead.
Freed from the remorse and guilt of a mundane life.
Remembered tales of exploits comedic and tragic
are told in homage to your empty chair.

No longer are you enraged at a frustrated existence
overflowed with bad timing and crass indifference.
Loves blown like those paychecks that never
quite covered the cost of day to day living.

No more jobs to lose, no more rivals to fight.
Your endless wandering through this maze of life
– that choked your fantasies of tomorrow –
are over. Abruptly ended by choices.

And now you are the honored dead.
All praise the shining character of lore
that lives in their airy dreamed memories
and salute a fictional martyr that never really lived.

May 21/24, 2006

I Wait

I wait for you
throughout the day
in silent driving
and in conversation.
Your presence
bleeds though
like burgundy thread
on Sunday whites
staining my seams red.
Under a branched sky
you are sun’s rays
that touch and yet
never touches.
In stillness
I strain to hear
but only leaves murmur
in evening breezes.
And when night cowls
forest green to ash
and moonlight silvers trees
– in darkness I stand
at the open window
and wait.

May 23 2006

Bolingbroke

That a king should turn
to find a kingly prince restored
to kingdoms lost abroad –
divorced from claim and name –
his beat and bully time
spent, wasted in manly dance
tearing and swallowing whole
whose lands dishonored by his lie.
Cast down the severed heads, O Clan,
and pull from nailed caskets
the buried guilt that forge
this dynasty with an empty crown.

September 2013

Dream of Memory

O dream a dream
of barren scrub
and loss –
that rock waits
covered Green
to dull such jagged
grief with Time
and light
and waves of Silver
waked Memory

June  2008

Cherry Blossom

Standing under the canopy
you tell me one can spend a lifetime
seeking out the perfect bloom.
In your last breath of life
you tell me they are all perfect.
Why couldn’t you realize this
before I lost you?

June 05