<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=368776" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Source</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">the Source of ‘Crab Nebula' </div><div style="margin:10px 0">'The greats molder in their graves <br>Their words collect as dust upon their spines <br>Their hearts do not beat in time with today <br>and yet, the Spirit calls & you answer <br>What more can a ‘writer' do'? </div><div style="margin:10px 0">(poetic writers are compelled to write <br>& seldom know why) </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> Ninth Street </div><div style="margin:10px 0">There is a cold water'd house <br>On a bleak winter'd street <br>With stale musty stink <br>Of unwashed sock and sheet <br>Dirty dishes left still<br>Standing there in the sink. <br>Memories drenched in scent <br>Of kerosene and coal <br>Christmases without trees <br>Colored paper or ribbon bows. <br>Yet ___ there was laughter, warm <br>and yes ___ love <br>Her making toast over-done <br>and coffee too thin for him. <br>Poverty of wage and things <br>Cannot suppress the hope <br>Of loves gentle kiss <br>As passions <br>Became a foggy mist <br>Of what could have been <br>Instead of what is.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>(Genetic Memory of Life before I was) <br> <br> Curmudgeon</div><div style="margin:10px 0">(I did not ask to be born) </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Knowing why, doesn't make the search go away <br>Knowing how, doesn't mean you can stop <br>There are alternative ways, different days <br>No one gets to stay forever </div><div style="margin:10px 0">There are traps <br>There are walls <br>People trip and people fall <br>and some never get up and walk again </div><div style="margin:10px 0">The world continues to change <br>Nothing stays the same <br>Tomorrow is not always better <br>Bad things happen to good people <br>Good things happen to bad </div><div style="margin:10px 0">and no one knows, why the wind blows <br>The water rises and why everything must die <br>Wishing will not make the pain of life go away <br>Life, is what it is.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> Son... this is Karma calling ___ </div><div style="margin:10px 0">I did not hear him as he called out <br>As if I could have comforted him <br>Or kept him from slipping away <br>Perhaps he was waiting to say goodbye <br>Or to hear how sorry I was to see him go </div><div style="margin:10px 0">I did not hear him as he called out <br>I was young and caught up in living my life <br>Of squander, waste and dark skinned girls <br>With eyes of fire and ice <br>I admit I was not very nice </div><div style="margin:10px 0">I did not hear him as he called out <br>Now fear grips my stony heart <br>Holds me tight as I call out <br>and there is no one there <br>In the middle of the night.<br> <br> Decadent Dreams ___ </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Every day I am borne anew <br>Through the mud and sludge <br>Of decadent dreams <br>And some vague remembrance <br>That I'm connected to my past <br>I stare at a mirrored reflection <br>I do not recognize <br>My cold pinching shoes feel too far away to tie <br>As I try to remember, where I'm going and why <br>I try to capture that which is lost <br>The world that was meant for me <br>Is not the world in which I live <br>My face feels the sting of one hand clapping <br>My eyes focus on the world outside of my self <br>The colors change from ‘Dali-esque vibrancy <br>To being all sooty and smelling of sweat <br>Ahhh, ... it must be Monday and time to go back to work.<br> <br>Hitch Hiker___</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>I found center and faced South <br>(thinking to my self) <br>‘Might as well start walking my ass some more' <br>I had gone back home, it wasn't there anymore <br>I had no future ‘cept my next step <br>Hungries forced asleep <br>Dead-air feed's on my innards <br>And yet, never have I felt so alive <br>I felt the wind push me further along the highway <br>Pushed by the driving force of Peterbilts and Reo's <br>Death a dark lonely step just to the left of shoulder <br>the Sign read <br>‘Watch Out For Falling Rocks' <br>Walk-another step <br>Impact on the endless lostness <br>Despair unworthy of the energy required <br>Onemindedness <br>Step impact, step, step <br>Taillights stop, door open <br>Light on friendly face <br>Smile, <br>Jump in as a grateful alley-cat seeking shelter from the rain, <br>Sot, footsoak, water-blister, blood wet, of another years-end drizzle <br>Feel the warm fragrant above my own Zen-stench <br>Step <br>Step <br>Now ride.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> Cross the Line___ </div><div style="margin:10px 0">I've been to the other side <br>you know, Crossed the line <br>Where the juke joints live and people die <br>Where the rhythms have a hitch and some jive <br>And the words flow as a sudden snow <br>Kinda unexpected <br>Where the rules ain't as important <br>As the fire and ice, going through my veins <br>and the sound of underground trains <br>Made me feel gritty in my B-flat' strains <br>The city makes me crazy <br>Air I breathed, kinda hazy <br>& I couldn't take it anymore <br>So, I poured all my feelings onto the page <br>Bounced off the ceilings with all of my rage, <br>To see if it would fit, into the message I had writ <br>I have been, to the other side.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> Just Relax ___ </div><div style="margin:10px 0">We are all just passing through <br>If we decide to stay a while, sit a spell <br>We may be able to rent or lease some place <br>As we ride this rock through space <br>We can't own it, even if we pay for it <br>The tax man will take it back <br>Come with bricks and bats <br>We own nothing, that we can take with us <br>As we build our towers and bridges <br>We can't even take the smell of flowers <br>They leave at our grave <br>Or the sweat we gave to make this place ours <br>So just relax <br>Don't get too attached, It ain't ours <br>We just use it for hours, to do what They' want us to do.<br> <br> One Way Ticket___ </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Another day of the dead as I stare at my empty bed <br>I see shadows of the Moon as time falls behind <br>Love had grown old and turned to dust <br>The papers of Divorce have finally been signed <br>Disappointment has replaced my once young lust <br>Words can no longer describe what is left of my mind <br>As once held hopes and dreams <br>Now slowly unravel and unwind <br>The Sun turns dim and grows small upon the western sky <br>Clouds from the East, join with clouds from the North <br>And grayness comes into my world <br>The ecstatic colors of Autumn leaves silently fall to ground <br>The ‘Dog Winds of Winter' called forth their biting <br>Knowing she was no longer there to warm me with her smile.<br> <br> Agnostic____ </div><div style="margin:10px 0">No one knows why some choices made are unwise / certainly not I <br>Or why some are out of step with the universal mind / as is mine <br>All I know for sure ___ is, I know nothing' for sure </div><div style="margin:10px 0">There are those that believe with all their heart / I know not why <br>They see things that are not here or there / that I cannot <br>All I know for sure ___ is, I know nothing' for sure </div><div style="margin:10px 0">While others are willing to kill or die <br>For an idea that I cannot comprehend <br>Or bring about a final end <br>Without trying to mend a broken fence <br>To me / makes no sense <br>All I know for sure ___ is, I know nothing' for sure.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> Acceptance ___ </div><div style="margin:10px 0">I opened the bag *, that I had carried a lifetime <br>There was a lot of dark empty space <br>Some memories, smiles and tears <br>That never found my face <br>Knowledge without wisdom <br>Wasted energies <br>Experiences never intended <br>Pain I could not erase <br>Many failures and disappointed others, <br>I had met along the way <br>Many books unread, many games not played <br>In my search for what? I'm still not sure <br>My motives, though well intended, my thoughts often impure <br>I could have been / should have been <br>Meant to be so much more <br>I barely managed to carry that dusty bag <br>Now empty, lying there on the floor <br>I hadn't wanted it, to end like this <br>Shuffling, dragging one foot <br>Elbow pressed to my waist <br>Holding up my rumpled trousers <br>Whimpering with each painful step <br>Some times life' just be like that. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">(* I had stood up too quickly and passed out, an ‘out of body experience, <br>revealed my ‘self from above, as my body appeared as an empty bag) .<br> <br> El Gatos ___</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Padded feet on deserted streets <br>After-hours as others sleep <br>With half Moon hidden <br>Behind clouds and trees stripped of leaves. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Familiar walks of solitude and classic etude's <br>Whispering in tall Fall grasses <br>Fences blending shadows into the night. <br>As Life's fabric of mystery weft and weaves. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">There are gardens of purple hush <br>With no access for trespasses <br>No stone pillows for the restless and the lost <br>That wander the forever in dirty sleeves. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">The air smells of dogs of war <br>Avoiding the whore of death <br>That tempts my contempt of the pleasures <br>Society so eagerly receives. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Being alone is my preference in life <br>Not the cackle of woman and bleating sheep <br>Or those that would lie in wait <br>To destroy dreams and dawns of precious sleep. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">(the night belongs to stray cats & homeless old men) <br> <br> Grandfather Clock / tick tick ___ </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Blustery she is... <br>The wind that crosses the River East <br>Shaking the remaining leaves from their wresting <br>Never resting she does not cease her hoary breath. <br>Others, stronger than I ignore her warnings <br>But I, hear her curse. <br>She is coming for the weary and infirm <br>She is searching for me in shudders and shakes <br>This is all it takes to confirm <br>That this year I am willing to go without a whimper. <br>I am ready for the kiss that takes my breath away.<br> <br> WHY? </div><div style="margin:10px 0">As a child I saw the gathering of suits <br>and dresses of somber smells. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Murmurs and the whispering of flowers <br>Sickly surrounding wooden chairs, <br>And guilt, because I did not feel anything. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">'He is just a child, he does not know'. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">I knew I did not like this Death thing.<br> <br>Why is Uncle asleep there? <br>Why does she cry? <br>Why won't they say, so I understand? <br>Why can't I play? </div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Shhhh, He's gone away'. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Why? <br> <br> Anonymous ___</div><div style="margin:10px 0">As leaves are beaten down from their homes of trees <br>and drops of rain rush fast towards the street corners drains <br>My words written in messy script on paper scraps <br>Are soon forgotten and do not last. I wonder..., <br>Was there a glimpse of gold in words unspoken? <br>A reflection of celebrity missed by me, <br>Crumpled and tossed into the waste in haste? <br>Probably not. But still I thought ___ maybe. <br>Maybe I am as among the undiscovered stars, <br>That flicker and shine but briefly, then burn away, <br>That no one sees and no one will ever know existed. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">(Life is like that.) </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> Homeless Dreams___ </div><div style="margin:10px 0">I dreamt dreams as a child <br>And it was with fresh eyes when I woke <br>That I saw and remembered <br>What had been written in previous sleeps <br>Another world / the other world <br>That runs parallel to my own<br>Perhaps a step ahead or behind, <br>but... always, just out of reach.<br> A Catch of Breath___ </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>Soon the falling will begin <br>Sunlight will weave in and out of leaves of trees <br>Changing the once dull and dusty green <br>Into complex tapestries<br>Closer to the ground <br>The grasses are cool and mute <br>Death will again dance to the tune <br>Of a seasons changing door <br>I have heard this melody before.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> Breathe ___ </div><div style="margin:10px 0">I consider my existence and <br>Truth is only in the now <br>Everything past is muddled <br>Covered with a widows veil <br>Distorted by pride and fear </div><div style="margin:10px 0">That future thing is never <br>What we suppose, hope or fantasize <br>Only the now, this moment <br>That eternal space between breaths <br>Means anything at all </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Empathy with my self is all <br>That allows me to believe<br>That I deserve to exist <br>& gives me the will to go on.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> Homeless Dust Dancer *____ </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Dressed in the rags of time and places <br>Signifying in loud incoherent phrases <br>With bluff and blunder <br>He talks a storm <br>Sings as thunder <br>Scaring tourists and their children <br>From tame towns that have no Zen <br>With once dull eyes they come <br>To see just another homeless bum <br>Believing their lives are the only way <br>They lie to self wishing they <br>Could also speak the magic of dirt and dust <br>And do what the dust dancer must. </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>* (Mike, a homeless person, lived on the sidewalk across the street) .<br> <br> Inevitable___ </div><div style="margin:10px 0">The Autumn clouds gather &<br>Roll slowly across the small town quiet <br>Oak leaves tense in anticipation <br>Of the wrenching winds to come <br>The Birch trees tighten their iron grip <br>And brace their bark against the chilling <br>All things joined in Sighs <br>Breathing in the last long warmth of Sun <br>October's celebration colors emerge <br>For their frantic dance of dying <br>Spent, then drained <br>The cold shadows fell into their nocturnal slumber <br>Memories fall away in swirls <br>Mere dreams of another time <br>The world slips to sleep <br>As man once again, prepares for war.<br> <br> <br>Epiphany of the backward child ___</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Sitting at the table of empty chairs <br>His world so small inside <br>Wishing he knew how to pray <br>How to dance <br>Laugh out loud <br>Wishing didn't work, so he stopped. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Dreamt in threes <br>Wept without tears <br>Love got lost on Monday <br>Never knew how much he missed <br>His Mothers kiss <br>Wishing didn't work, so he stopped. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Turned his back on the streets and roads <br>Never climbed the tree <br>Played in Clouds <br>Left the Porch <br>Splashed in puddles <br>Or kicked the can <br>Wishing didn't work, so he stopped. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">(If you wish in one hand and spit in the other hand, <br>which hand gets filled first?) <br> <br> On the Wall / a soldier's lament___</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Amid the dark of night when drunks <br>Cease their raucous noise <br>Murky dews come once again <br>Upon the wall of stone <br>Standing in doorways shadow <br>Hearing Earth in its turning <br>and aging timbers in their moan <br>I sense the rose petal hue of dawn <br>Peek its eye on the edge of a mourning sky <br>I will to survive another night so that my bones <br>Might embrace again the warm before I die <br>The watching having been worth the while <br>My tour of duty over, I could then go home. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Author notes: <br>(' They also serve, who stand and wait.'.) <br>John Milton</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> Nautilus Shell ___</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Night under a Summer's warm <br>I left the shell of me to see <br>How my sojourn thus far had come. <br>The breeze breathed a sigh <br>As I raised my eyes to see the polar star. <br>Through the night sky and summer trees<br>Transfixed and entranced, I held my gaze <br>and saw the universe as under an upturned bowl <br>the numberless days, slowly turning, yet, <br>Holding within my entire life. <br>Whether my journeys tonight end <br>Or the turnings cease and suspend <br>I am now no further than I have ever been. <br>I know not WHO, has thrust me thus or why <br>As I stand and watch the universe unfold on<br>The night time sky. <br>There are those that seem to understand and know <br>Though for me it is enough, <br>That I have lived to see <br>This wondrous thing called life. <br>(Inspired by, Omar Khyyam) <br> <br>notes: <br>Nautilus - Living fossil<br> <br>The Nautilus (in Greek 'sailor') has survived relatively unchanged for 450 million years and is one of the only shells to survive from the Dinosaurs era. This is why the Nautilus is sometimes referred to as a 'living fossil'. The Nautilus is a nocturnal creature and spends most of its time in the great depths of the ocean. The Nautilus shell, lined with mother-of-pearl, grows into increasingly larger chambers throughout its life and so has become a symbol for expansion and renewal.) </div><div style="margin:10px 0"> Red Dirt Road ___</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Respectfully bowing at the waist, I acknowledged his presence. <br>'Where do you know me from? ' he asked. <br>‘From the land of Shu', I said. <br>His green drab field jJacket showed no rank. <br>It was his character that showed through the dirt and stank. <br>'I thank you for the respect you have shown... and more, <br>Although we were adversaries on opposing sides in the Great War. <br>Now, we are equal in both status and intellect'. <br>‘Isn't that the truth? , I said <br>Come share some tea and a piece of old bread. <br>There is nothing else left, so let us be friends.' <br>'We, at least both succeeded, in bringing the world to its end'. </div><div style="margin:10px 0"> Author notes: <br>('WAR! What's is it good for? NOTHING ') <br>...Edwin Starr</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> Night Shift ___</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Each of us has an image of paradise, <br>A destinations resting reward, and yet <br>I am troubled as my own view is dim. <br>Deep down many levels beneath the sun <br>Where hand hewn roots of Sequoia support <br>the Marble hall of others, I am sweeping <br>the dust gatherings and collecting into piles <br>The cardboard refuse of gifts not meant for me. <br>Toiling the forever among vague others I never knew <br>While I was sleepwalking somewhere up there. <br>I go on, in the certainty that eventually <br>I too will rise to the Alabaster Porticos <br>Washed by brief sweet showers of rain. <br>Till then I accept my role <br>As Janitor, this side of the Gate. </div><div style="margin:10px 0"> Loss of Memory ___</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Presenting masks wherever we go. <br>Mere representations that we give the world to see. <br>However, hidden deep down within and behind the eyes, <br>the (i) hides, wearing a mask that we expect others to recognize. <br>All who play the game of Life are afraid to strip away the facade <br>and show our true nature known only to God. <br>We have forgotten what we once were, before we learned <br>To speak lies and subterfuge<br>Before we stared at a dusty glass mirror, <br>As if that which is there, is forever. <br>After years of empty laughter turns to a dry sardonic grin, <br>Will we remember, what still lies within.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> Pawned Guitar ___</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Once we were as two strings on the instrument of Life's vibration. <br>Each different in composition and position, <br>Resonating one to the other in sympathetic harmonics. <br>A simple and pleasant chord of quiet discretion, <br>Far from the cacophonies of dissonance <br>That filled the chaos surrounding us. <br>Now it appears to our tone deaf ear, <br>That we too, have taken up noise as our chosen song. <br>Our once lullaby of love can no longer be heard. <br> <br>Apostasy ___</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'I no longer believe'! <br>Barely had the air escaped my lips <br>That my life turned left, veered into chaos & the magic left me. <br>The protection ripped from above my head, <br>As the wind rips the ribs of an umbrella, <br>Turning it, uselessly inside out. <br>The Earth continues to turn slowly, <br>Slightly askew. <br>Rolling towards the Sun. <br>Warming one side, then the other. <br>Day was done. <br>Night has come.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> Slitherwhumping ___</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Once upon a long ago <br>A Slitherwhumping to and fro <br>I'e clumb the chimmney brim <br>To find what I'e might know <br>The world had run amok and fallen to the Runes <br>(Runes be seen as a future already been <br>buried beneath the sandy dunes) <br>At present the air is not a gift <br>All thicky gloob and gone far adrift <br>The rain she burn the snigglebum <br>Once rivers flowed as crystal lead <br>Now filled with green and yallow scum <br>The fishees floating wide eyed ded <br>Ahhh da world <br>Da world <br>She be a' cryin <br>She be such a' mess <br>Wimmens wearing mustache <br>Mens be wearing dress <br>What kin I do? <br>What kin I do <br>To fix this globe of ‘Foam? <br>I know <br>I know <br>I will rite a pome' <br>‘Bout the starrries shine <br>An a' Moon <br>A' hanging on a cloud <br>and happy Willow trees <br>Instead of crying shrouds <br>I'd never take a bath <br>Never get dirty knees <br>As I'e go crawling in the grass <br>With Ziggy Bumblebees <br>I would <br>I would <br>Spread joy an happiness <br>But ___ alas <br>Sittin on this chimney brim <br>I see <br>I jus' be a boy <br>With a heart of glass. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">(Respects & Apologies to; Lewis Carrol's 'Jabberwocky') <br> <br>Novembers Embers ___</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I felt the winds turning and the chilling <br>Come forth as Sun rays crept past <br>Shadowed peaks, angling rise to the north <br>Reflecting on the glass of panels new sleek buildings<br>Setting the leaves aglow in gold <br>Surely the seasons end went as a friend <br>Leaving memories to times gone by <br>It was Indians Summer's wave goodbye <br>That which was priceless began to die <br>Death was close at hand and winter's slow trod <br>According to the will of god <br>The cycle began its turning and <br>Trampled hearts in ember's burning <br>From dust to dust again.<br> <br> Burnt Canvases ___</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I tried not to let it happen <br>It happened all the same <br>I was stuck unhappily in my own time <br>Trapped in my own within. <br>Not a time others were in <br>(I was still back in the ‘Fifties) <br>When Jazz was King <br>When oil paints on canvas <br>and being ‘Cool, was my everything. <br>I suspect... I now look sad <br>Being old and still trying to act as if I am still like that <br>I never had that much, but it was all that I had. <br>So I leaned on it, as one leans on a cane <br>It's too late to change, so I can't & never will. <br> <br>Expiration Date ___</div><div style="margin:10px 0">When did I get as old as this carton of warm milk? <br>Yesterday I was laughing with fellow soldiers <br>On a sandy beach <br>This morning I was being helped <br>To cross the busy street <br>The curb seemed farther than I could reach <br>I realize I had forgot to zip my fly <br>The first indication that I, was losing my youth <br>My trousers have lost its press <br>I feel to be an wrinkled mess <br>Do I really care? <br>I hope I don't have that old man smell of unwashed hair <br>As I slowly walk in front of others in a hurry <br>I worry I have become a burden & no longer of any use <br>Its not fair <br>I was so good looking just yesterday <br>Or maybe not <br>Perhaps I just forgot all those other days in between.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> Gypsy Recital ___</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Opening her case with the edges frayed <br>Burnished in carved leather dyed black <br>She laid her strange stringed instrument <br>Upon its polished rosewood back </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Proceeding to press her fingers <br>Between the inlaid ivory frets <br>As if it were a piano keyboard <br>Playing strange sounding couplets </div><div style="margin:10px 0">At first <br>I thought her face rather plain <br>Until I heard the music that came <br>Emanating from deep down within <br>That changed her olive skin <br>Into a Regal face in classic profile </div><div style="margin:10px 0">My hand fell from the one that I was with <br>I clutched my heart and began to drift <br>Sensing her spirit, I then became aware <br>That I could not tear myself away <br>From what she had become </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Abruptly <br>The music stopped <br>And then too, my empty heart <br>Her hungry eyes became almost primitive <br>As I was left just barely breathing </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Quietly, she said, <br>'Take that, you heartless Aristocrat' </div><div style="margin:10px 0">It was then that I finally recognized <br>The daughter, <br>That in my youthful arrogance <br>I had casually abandoned.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> Revenge of the Leaves of Autumn ___</div><div style="margin:10px 0">They all came together in one place <br>Each with each and all with all <br>They said their piece <br>From early Spring to almost Fall. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">They listened intent to understand <br>What was to become of the rest of Man <br>After assimilation's of the great debate <br>A conclusion was decided on their fate. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">After man had raked, pillaged & burned their kin <br>Destroying memories of those within <br>The great leaves of trees would finally take revenge. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Let US no longer give air for them to breathe <br>No longer the beauty of our Majesty <br>Never again provide shade from the Sun <br>Let them burn, as our Fathers had been done.' </div><div style="margin:10px 0">From that day forward till the end <br>Trees and leaves held their breath <br>Until all the ‘Rakers had died <br>The most boring of deaths. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">... and for any that may come long after, <br>That sound you hear <br>Of breeze in the trees <br>Is the leaves in their laughter.<br> <br> The Olde Poet ___</div><div style="margin:10px 0">My body has turned to Winter now <br>Though I still think it's Spring. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">The wisdom I have acquired now <br>Has become a dusty thing. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Memories no longer found when trying now <br>They come and go on Raven's wings. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">My passions are all brash and bravado now <br>Having lost my bite and lost my sting. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">But that which bothers me most now, <br>Is the inability to balance and rhyme this darned poem.<br> <br> Bluesy ___</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Heavy reed tones of the tenor Sax <br>Soft & gentle chords of the flat string guitar <br>& yes, the shush of brush on snare skin drum <br>Cut down the lights <br>Let the blue cool glow seep into the soul <br>Gin on the rocks makes the day go away <br>It's Jazz night at the Hotel Bar <br>Drifting in and out <br>Stranger and regular alike <br>Mixing murmurs of smoke and whispers <br>'got's to show PROPS to the band' <br>The tempo slides down a notch <br>Clumsily, I try to look urbane as I dance with my date <br>True I'm glued to who I just met <br>Mostly jus' tryin to be cool <br>Cool as the night I hope never ends <br>Now, as I look in the misty bathroom mirror <br>the old man I no longer recognize, says: <br>'Everything for me has changed on Saturday nights'.<br> <br>A New York Fall ___</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Cold wind <br>Blown dusty and dry <br>Brownstone stoops <br>& painted iron gates <br>No one smiles <br>& no one knows their neighbors name <br>and yet the Sun shines on those with money <br>& those with none at all.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> Alzheimer Images ___</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The lips pursed <br>Not for kiss, but for curse <br>Pressed then held <br>Lest come forth <br>The yellowing of antique white upon the walls. <br>Dusty lies withheld / Silence is spilled <br>Truth mistaken as understood <br>All is hidden beneath dreams <br>As faces formed in a carpet of themes. <br>Staring up from the abyss <br>There is no respect found there <br>Only spittle and drools <br>& staring eyes unseeing <br>Blinded by memories of never was. <br>Such are the ways of the melting of aging <br>All is medical now <br>Furrows are re-visited upon the brow <br>Trips & stumbles now <br>Confused <br>Stands alone amused <br>Lost in thought <br>Offered help <br>Refused it all <br>Then, <br>Taken away <br>Taken away <br>Taken away.<br> </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>Stranger to my Self ___ </div><div style="margin:10px 0">In my need to lose my past, <br>I've forgotten all I know, <br>Cep't Yesterdays never last, <br>Though lined up in a row. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Now I have lost the way. <br>Cannot find my home. <br>A stranger to those, that say: <br>' We know You and your Poem'. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Stripped of all I had acquired, <br>Penniless and getting old. <br>Viewed through eyes very tired, <br>My World has turned gray and cold. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">The spark that lit the flame <br>Is damped and worn away <br>Only I am left to blame <br>For this always empty day. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">If only I knew Now <br>What I knew back then. <br>I would never have allowed <br>This inevitable end. </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> Artistic Dysfunction___<br> <br>If you have to explain your Poems, <br>Describe your Paintings, <br>Justify the existence of your Sculpture, <br>Then you have Failed. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">If you have to receive affirmation from others, <br>To affirm your Self, <br>Then you have Failed. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">If your center is self and the creative process, <br>Instead of others and the alleviation of pain and injustice, <br>Then you have failed. </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> the Outsider ___</div><div style="margin:10px 0">In dreams as in waking I am nearly naked <br>Seeing and seen by people I do not know. <br>Though streets seem familiar of places been <br>I am and have always been alone. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Approaching encampments I smile my name <br>Extend my empty hand in peace <br>Shuffle and shly stand <br>Waiting for solitude's release </div><div style="margin:10px 0">I will fight to be accepted, to prove my worth. <br>I will stand down to show my intent <br>I will not accept label as slave <br>I will not serve the corrupters Tent. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">If I must remain or go alone <br>Bags or belongings be damned <br>All I ask from those within <br>Is - that I keep that which I am. </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> Never Learned to Laugh___ </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Lifetimes have passed, <br>The lips stay dry pressed. <br>I have heard ' mirth upon the path. <br>Jealous have leaned forward, <br>Eager to see this marvelous thing. <br>Always some unfortunate soul was in pain. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Laughter of small minds, <br>Gleefully sarcastic at the <br>Imposed shortcomings of another. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">At seeing me they would stop and stare, <br>Looking for any caricature of difference. <br>Any blemish or distortion. <br>A shade of color not before seen. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Then the stabbings would begin. <br>Insults thrown javelin. <br>Hoping to rise a tear. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">To them'___ that was funny, <br>To enjoy the susceptibilities <br>Of the soft unprotected underbelly. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">I have always looked beyond <br>The mis shapen shell God has given us, <br>Hiding the beauty hidden within. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Looked deep down, past <br>The shallow Freudian mask. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Amazed at the lovliness. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Still I have never learned to laugh. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Hope I never will. </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> Invitation to Reality ___ </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Embossed, Elegant and Proper <br>With White Glove upon Silver Tray <br>(___‘He imagined) the invitation <br>Would surely come <br>To announce his required presence to attend. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">His Fellow wordsmith's and other known <br>Notorious Poets of the Dusky Café', <br>would say, 'Come Speak and Bend your phrase <br>and entertain us, on this, your sixty-first Birthday'. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">A celebration that would envy, Cyrano, Don Quixote' <br>and those other guys <br>Wine, laughter and Raucous noise <br>Out on the town with the boys. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">With this a gentle tear did shyly slip <br>Past cheek, M'stache and hidden laugh.' <br>My life is proven to be all that I have dreamed ' <br>(and With that___) <br>A crack of burn'n wood and steam <br>Did rise to wake from within that Barrel of fire <br>To warm the homeless and dispossessed, <br>Quaked! Don Booda, <br>In cold damp shoe and common cloth, <br>Of yesterday's still dressed. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Breath of kerosene, and hunger now asleep, <br>Did creep 'round to avoid the shift of wind <br>That hawkish did bite the face. <br>Covered in smoke and ash and forgotten sins <br>For which, he must now pay for his mistake <br>Of pride, rebellion and anti-social ways. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">' Ahhh ___ but those were the days <br>Those were the days. ' <br> <br>So he wanders in whatever direction <br>The wind blows his back <br>Across the tracks through the brush <br>Of once garden's pruned and manicured <br>‘Til bloom of fragrant wafting airs turned to sickly smell <br>Of graves now frozen gates to hell. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Leaning against granite reality...<br> Scrapes his knuckles and barely bleeds <br>Feels the need to rest <br>Exhausted, crumples and collapses <br>The stars remain fixed <br>His world spins in ellipse <br>Of forever turning <br>Churning through the airless void. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">His Belly flutters <br>Eyelids squint against the light <br>Wind whoosh chases night <br>Summer and being seven follow him <br>Down the path to a porch well worn <br>An unlocked door <br>His Mother's scolding scorn, </div><div style="margin:10px 0">' Your hands are dirty and you're late for Dinner ' </div><div style="margin:10px 0">(About: Old homeless Man wanders into neglected cemetery, <br>Dies, and spends eternity in memories of Thanksgivings past.) <br> <br> Stone in the stream ___</div><div style="margin:10px 0">As I tried to continue my meaningless life <br>Grumbling, assigning all negativity to that which my eyes beheld <br>My spirit damped and soggy with the ‘clay of life's drudgeries <br>I came upon a narrowing of the way <br>The hall of doors closed. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Attempting to turn and return from whence I had come <br>The girth of my consuming, weakened by excess, <br>I could not. <br>Stifled, by the smalling enclousures <br>My gaze went floorward and as my chin touched my chest, <br>My windpipe bent, the scent of my failures filled my lungs. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">As a wounded naked child in the chill of the long night <br>I pondered my decisions in life and could find no fault <br>with any... other than my self. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">I had rejected the wisdom of experience <br>Going my own way in arrogant delusional defiance. <br>With too much pride and too late in the game to change, <br>I accepted my fate and was slowly erased from the book of life. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">There are other unread books still flapping their pages in the dust. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Soon their words too, will be bleached by the Sun <br>and the ink washed away by Spring rains. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">They usually appear darkly on the street corners of cities, <br>Staring vacantly... as the rush of Life moves around them, <br>As a Salmon swimming upstream past a wet rock <br>In a fast moving stream. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">All just nameless poets, left behind. </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br> Old Man with Stick ___</div><div style="margin:10px 0">They have left me now <br>My childhood heroes. <br>My dreams. <br>My Loves long hair and dark eyes. <br>As wild horses chasing sunsets. <br>Now come the Specters of the dark unknown. <br>No longer warmed of the sun. <br>The nights of unresolved memories and unwise choices. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">I chose to be & do, no other than I am. <br> <br>Malcontents Epilogue ____</div><div style="margin:10px 0">No matter where I am <br>I would rather be somewhere else <br>No matter who I am with <br>I would rather be with someone else <br>Or better yet ___ be alone <br>For me, it is better to reject the world <br>Than give the world the opportunity <br>To reject who I have decided I should be <br>I am a malcontent <br>A label I am content to live with</div><div style="margin:10px 0">~~~ </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Have you ever seen a stand of birch <br>Braced against the snow? <br>A field untouched by buildings <br>Sleeping under nights blue white glow? <br>Or how a country road unpaved <br>Weaves among the barren brush? <br>Can you hear winter's gentle breath <br>Beneath full moons hush? <br>Then you know the peace, <br>That comes with an old mans death.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Donald+Goodside">Donald Goodside</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=368776" data-title="The Source de Donald Goodside" data-description="the Source of ‘Crab Nebula' 'The greats molder in their graves Their words collect as dust upon their spines Their hearts do not beat in time with today and yet, the Spirit calls & you answer What more can a ‘writer' do'? (poetic write..."></div> </div> </div>

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