We are not hunters or grazers,
but vultures and scavengers.
We are not beasts of burden,
but vermin and parasites.
We are not soldiers that defend,
but thieves that burn and plunder.
I think tomorrow, for us
Earth may shake its blanket of all its vermin
those that have taken and not given.
I wrote this poem when I was younger. Since I am writing a story about a summer climb, I thought that this poem about stars was appropriate. It reminds me of one of the fantastic nights I spent up there.
The stars
They sit
Staring down
They speak
Saying
Again
And again
Come to me my little friend
but what are we
but mere tiny beings
who look with awe
at the glitter and sparkle
only wishing upon stars
for a heart-filled miracle
yet some begin to hear
a call growing greater and greater
and as the question strengthens
to batter our minds
we wonder…
“What is it that we must find?”
and as we rush
rising even mightier
we dream of places even brighter
yet being bound to our sphere
we desperately build
hoping one day to travel
across the endless galaxy
there discovering
wondrous fantasies
---places unlike our own
leaving us fighting just to gain hold
of all the things that remind us of home
but we put them aside
only because we must
---the call still beckons us
to seek farther into
the glitter
and
sparkle
sprinkling the skies
Right there!
ever before our eyes
and as they sit
staring down
they speak
saying
again
and again
come to me my little friend
and as we look
each of us says in return
“WE COME”
“We Come”
“we come…”
Moments of anguish
warm tears of pain
Hopes seem to vanish
like a midsummer’s rain
I tally up my life
the good and the bad
But what is the difference
the livings been had
I pick-up my head
and hold it high
Cause there is nothing to be said
just don’t cry
The crowd is awaiting
they have seen death before
Maybe I am just fated
to live through this horror
Right then I think of Heaven
and I think of Hell
Wherever I am going
I hope I will be well
The headsmen slides the hood on
my vision fades to black
All of my resistance is gone
like my mind just snapped
Cause there are hurts that harden
leaving you in pain
And there are hurts that burden
shedding tears that rain
I thought of HOWLING out my ANGER
but why should I
I am but a stranger
in their eyes
Even then I could
hear the swish
“Strange,” I thought.
“So this is how I finish.”
The axe found its mark
followed by a loud, “THWACK!”
My head rolled in the basket
and, my friends, THAT was THAT…
On an early spring morning
when I was a’strolling
down through the low rolling hills
I saw a mouse sat atop
a rather large stump.
“So peculiar,”
voiced I,
“that such a little guy
would sit so simple-like
watching me without so much
as a wisp of fright.”
Indeed, quite an absurd notion
given a manner of mad commotion
where with rising incivility
I yelled quite loudly,
“SCAT!”
but the mouse simply sat.
Confused, I said in vain,
“What sort of insane madness
do you posses?”
Of course, I was again ignored
and yet, now suddenly fascinated,
I drew closer
until I was just within reach
but instead of reaching out,
I paused in consideration,
and warned,
“Repent and run
but I dare say, if I repeat
I will be done with you.”
There was still no reaction
as if I believed there would be
as if a beast would give pardon
and dazzle me with its wit and charm
by speaking,
“Excuse me good sir
I was predisposed.
A moment please
and I will be gone.”
All of a sudden I began to think
it would be cruel to scare the fellow off
and so I sat nearby for a moment
and said nothing.
“You know, little guy,
at times I feel like you
and I question ‘Why?’
what makes me
so much less?
In effect, you are me
and I am you.”
With that said, the mouse
rested onto his haunches.
“Madness!
You are mad, I say.”
But he reacted no more
and so I calmly proceeded, troubled,
but otherwise unaffected.
“Sometimes I fear our place
in society is only
the choice of others
whose opinion is vested
merely by the merit of the majority.
Such false ideals
and blatant actions of the ignorant
are not tolerable.
Am I so ignorant then,
so blind
That I will fall into
The chaotic eye of injustice
And never escape.
No, I think I will move on
and let be
those I can destroy at whim.”
So, I stood and retraced my steps
and calmly proceeded on my walk
happy, as well, as proud for what I had done.
A few feet down the trail, I turned
only to see the mouse
was no longer there.
Laughing I looked away
and thought about the
mouse and me,
and how confusing life is.
For a time I knew
that was all I was going to think about
but I had plenty of time
and a long walk ahead…
Since powder snow will soon be gone, I thought I'd post a poem about it. You see, I'm a skier and I love skiing. A great powder day can be among the best to enjoy.
“White Gold”
Aloft, alone
Atop this nature’s stone
I moan, “Behold field’s of white gold!”
It sits there alive
Glittering like dancing angles
Whom rise from god’s table
to make a toast as such
to me and the making of my fable
In boast they say,
“No drink could ever be so bold
No drug as sensuous and full
For in your addiction to our affliction
Rests your heaven in the cold
Your Valhalla when your story
Is done and told.”
I begin this powder perfect day
Amidst a wintry wonder ray
And these sparkles spread out converse
A twinkling foreboding curse
“Tread not unless thee
Seeks to be free
For once one has sought
There is no cure to this disease!”
The wind in waves whisks this ocean
A turbulent sea in constant commotion
Where in my moment of decision
all time stops and freezes
and utters a rising notion
“Now is the time
the beginnings of my
language of rhyme
my musical opera sublime!”
For this is my dream.
A lost ship on a tilted sea
That bleeds the truth
Of my reality
“This place is my respite
from the storm
to be away leaves me forlorn.”
With no fear only fate to steer me
I find myself on the edge of action
And as I leave I can only mutter
And hoot howls of thunder
So overflowing is my bliss
With only my skill and skis to rudder me
Through these moments that hiss
From beginning to end down this ocean
An emptiness through which I row
So much peace in the throws
Of snow
So as such
My addiction is set
Until the day I fold
My days will be spent in search
Of the white gold…
The moon dance
the river lance
my soul dives
the turning moon cries
The sun sighs
tomorrow hides
But now
there is no foul
This second descends
the moment defends
No time can taint
This day I paint
---a picture
of my adventure
an instant
not distant
The mountain high
the bird cry
The thunder cloud
the booming sound pounds loud
My ears
my fears
all emotion
such commotion
Windswept
a moment kept
sunburned
time turns
Yes the moment
a torment
a mighty ship
a journey leapt
It all makes sense
I'm not dense
Everything rings
And truth sings
Give and take
This life you make
Good and bad
Take and be glad
