THIRST

asphalt-cut3

THIRST

Dark green table of forest wood
Knife cut slits of curving asphalt
Painted ceiling of blues and red
Brilliant shines onto the board
Pieces moved along life’s highways
By players of destiny and determinism

I pull over
and turn off my engine
I listen to the silence of the woods
Turn up to glare at the ceiling
but marvel at the paint
And ask the query
and listen
for the answer

 

The silence laughs

again

until,
across the woods and echoing along the cut
an owl provides it
once again

 

—-

Photo and interpretation via poem with pingback for the 10/7/16 Photo Challenge from the “DAILY POST” entitled:
H2O

 

 

LEAVES

McDs1-001

LEAVES

To enter one leaves
Harsh life for big macomfort…
…Leaves with pricks

—

#~haiku

—

in response to nothing except getting a Big Mac instead of a Quarter Pounder (should I put a damn copyright logo here?) after I had sworn months ago never to go back to this damn place, as well as feeling like chucking it all, grabbing a few warm clothes, and heading off to Alaska. I took the pic in February and wrote the ~haiku then as well. Not sure why I’m posting it now other than it’s been sitting in my draft for a while and I’m OCD about clearing those out periodically. But Alaska is cold in February. I didn’t go.

 

 

 

 

 

Partners, Flying through Clouds

Clouds2

Partners, Flying through Clouds

—
I can see your eyes from across the room
I see you talking, your words floating, weightless
The band starts a new song
You turn, slightly
Our eyes meet, then hold
An ethereal pirouette, just above the parquet
—
I walk around the floor, toward you
Deftly dodging couples
Stepping off the edge, and catching
Spilling a portion of my drink
Embarrassed, my eyes turn, we meet again
And your eyes are smiling
—
I approach, without a word you speak
I ask you for this dance
Your eyes burn deeper
As you nod and smile
Soaring, I take your hand
And pull you onto the floor
As we dance through the skies
Our burning souls setting the clouds on fire

———————————-

Photo and Interpretation via poem with pingback for the 6/24/16 Photo Challenge from “The Daily Post” entitled:

Partners

Beyond the Curve

Beyond the Curve2
Aegean waves were lapping white
The broad reach breezes stiffening
The ship pushed through abating night
Dew dripping down, masts glistening
 Ulysses watched his men abaft
They polished bright the spears of war
And ladened oil on wooden shafts
As one flesh hungry carnivore
He smiled and breathed in deep their nerve
And lifted up a distant gaze
But knew beyond horizons curve
Lay tests, and death, and anguished days
And then he turned and looked astern
His steady hands on pulsing stays
The antipodal curve discerned
Beyond which all their past paths lay
Ulysses had an unseen trait
And knew The Fates were far from true
Beyond that curve we bifurcate
Beyond this curve we rendezvous
He thought with raw felicity
Of his beloved Penelope
To feel their sensuality
They dance to homophrosýnē
The paths we sail are never straight
Beyond the curves we never see
The art is learn to navigate
And bend it with audacity

———————-

Photo and Interpretation via poem with pingback for the 6/17/16 Photo Challenge from “The Daily Post” entitled:

Curve

River of Forgotten Dreams

Forgotten River

River of Forgotten Dreams

Some are tossed as litter
Out the window driving by
Without a moment’s thought
And some are lowered slowly
A baptism of regret
Hands unclasping
Released while under water
Staring back from under water
With questions and confusion
Watching the quiet drowning
Drifting, slowly, turning, away
While some are flung with anger
Splashing impacts of rage
With cursing and then chasing
Retrieval, a chocking, screams
A final hurl of good riddance
Some make elaborate floats
And gently place them hence
A ritual of remembrance
The gentle push of launch
Quiet sobbing as the float moves away
Bobbing on tiny waves of neglect
Listlessly waterlogging
Tipping gradually, until tipping
Mere feet away a capsize
And in a moment all is gone
As the quiet sobbing turns to
Wails of lament
Mine bathed joyous
As the cool water flowed
Laughter and splashes of ecstasy
Washed away the days harsh wear
But like children, dreams need tending
And one day when I came
Down to the water, I was alone
I had left too long and gone
Not even knowing the final fate
Had she drowned?
Had another found her?
Was she alive or dead?
And as a child, the cruelest of fates
Unknown and alone
I stood by the river and cried
And watched downstream as dreams
Left all alone, dead and dying
Floated slowly down, and away
Until the North’s cool breeze
Blew across my face
I turned
Upstream where the water was clear
I saw my own reflection
I saw the waves of hope
They are conceived, they are born
As life cycles, so do dreams
And upstream new dreams are made
And I thought floating down from here
Is the River of Forgotten Dreams
But upstream is the Spring of Eternal Hope
And I began to stride toward the North…