Simple things make me happy

sometimes 

it doesn't take much

being alone

nothing pending

sitting

with a 

book in hand

playing 

old tunes

tickling the ears

soft breeze

caressing the face

feet up

relaxing

sun streaked skies

natures palette

sounds

of water

gently cascading

downward

four paws

come

closer

head scratch

looking

for tidbits

game of catch

sipping

the drink 

of the moment

eyes

grow heavy

close for a 

moment

smile

A touch of madness

whispers in the day
whispers in the night
has it started
will it start

the long journey
into darkness
the mental abyss
the lost touch of
reality

doubt sets in
clarity unsure
can it be
the mental curse
unfolds
to what end

the pit
the pendulum
the scourge
of the mind
waiting it's turn
unheard screams

The Letter

pen in hand
inkwell close
cursive script
gently flows
words and thoughts
from times before
thoughtfully written
poetic in sounds
emotions shown
love and passion
folded and placed
sealed in wax
long journey taken
time stands still
miles and months
may pass
response is wanted
letter in hand
gently opened
savour the moment
eyes take in
unbridled joy
power of the pen

a wonderful foggy morning

mists rising upward
blanket ones vision
what lies ahead

moisture on the face
feelings arise
what is out there
something I know

been there before
confident in past
wonders of future
better or worse

2 step forward
1 back
progress is
not a straight line

determination
needed in defeat
determination
13 letters
you counted

fog to rise
view ahead
clearer
never clearest

life is not
like that
count on
the butterfly
effect

embrace
the foggy
morning

Thunderstorm

billowing clouds
natures force
darkened vengeance
howling winds
sideways rain

flashes of night
crackling bolts
havoc reeked
earth
but a pawn

run for cover
warning given
destruction
awaits
for the
unbelievers

like
you
!

Sun and Moon

morning sun's rays
gently wipe darkness away
nature stretching
waking to a new day
pinkish hues bathe the skies
never ending colors
across the skies expanse
while the orb of night
reluctantly gives up its hold
as the governor of darkness
still full and bright
to soon disappear from sight
wildlife shrugs
it has seen it before
again again
forevermore

Awaken, once again

to awaken and lay
after hours of sleep
still so tired
legs almost lifeless
the drain of energy
aches and pains
an endless parade

like a light
left on to
drain the power
saps the will
to do
what has brought joy
I fear
nevermore

memories of youth
all to go by
freedom
to run like the wind
to revel
in happiness

life never forgets
a collection it keeps
payback will come
some sooner
some later

a visitor that stays
never to leave

so tired
of being
tired

Morning Mists

early morning

darkness covered

sitting waiting

for the sun

to start the

unveiling

time passes

but darkness holds

its grip on the night

wondering the cause

outside ventured

fog had settled

blocking the light

like a fairy tale dream

visible objects peeking

shrouded by mist

clouding the vision

erie feeling

another time perhaps

silence of the birds

as they waited

for their day

to begin

to forage for daily

sustenance

heat of the day

brings a sigh

of relief

songs of nature

awake as one

all is well

once more

The Low Spark Of High-Heeled Boys

No, today it is not a poem by me but the words 

of Steve Winwood and Jim Capaldi

The music is haunting and the words mysterious.

I am putting the words here by themselves

because they are that good.

If you see something that looks like a star
And it's shooting up out of the ground
And your head is spinning from a loud guitar
And you just can't escape from the sound
Don't worry too much, it'll happen to you
We were children once, playing with toys
And the thing that you're hearing is only the sound of
The low spark of high-heeled boys

The percentage you're paying is too high priced
While you're living beyond all your means
And the man in the suit has just bought a new car 
From the profit he's made on your dreams
But today you just read that the man was shot dead 
By a gun that didn't make any noise
But it wasn't the bullet that laid him to rest was 
The low spark of high-heeled boys


If you had just a minute to breathe and they granted you one final wish
Would you ask for something like another chance?
Or something similar as this? Don't worry too much
It'll happen to you as sure as your sorrows are joys
And the thing that disturbs you is only the sound of 
The low spark of high-heeled boys

If I gave you everything that I owned and asked for nothing in return
Would you do the same for me as I would for you?
Or take me for a ride, and strip me of everything including my pride
But spirit is something that no one destroys
And the sound that I'm hearing is only the sound
The low spark of high-heeled boys

Does It Matter

Sunday, December 5, 2010

repost

Gloomy

Does It Matter

Calling out

to the sky

no answer

to be had

in return

Just the quiet

as an answer

was it enough

what was done

did it matter

does it

ever

matter

holding back

the oceans

of lost

opportunity

fix

patch

repair

to no avail

rip tides pull

one out to sea

fight the current

swept away

no one knows

a finger

in the water

leaves no mark

was it really

a wonderful life

mr stewart

no wings

no angels

no echo

in the night

fragile

vulnerable

unable

to shake

the doubts

of worth

doubts that

set in

tend to

linger