Big Water

“Water, water everywhere…”
In image after image
That’s what came home
Nestled in memories
Captured in my camera
The Ohio River
The Tennessee Valley
The sunny, crystalline turquoise
Of the Gulf of Mexico
BIG water
To one who has lived
Forever within landlocked hills
Little rivers and tiny lakes
Dotted between
Forests and fields
Big water
Was a sight to behold
Wow factor
Surprising myself when I returned home
Finding I’d filled rolls of film
With images
Of water

But that
Is what a trip is
An exploration
A discovery
What you’ve never seen
And never even realized was beyond
Your own experience

NaPoWriMo post #18 and manicdaily‘s “Trip” prompt for Poetics on dVerse …Wish I had some of the photos I took on that trip to post with this, but they are not on my computer.

Status Update

The world is streaming live
Racing in every direction
Life lived at internet speeds
Don’t blink or you might miss something

A billion emperors fiddling
Watching the world burn
Or melt
A quivering, bubbling mass of plastic parts
Handheld and mobile
Picked up and re-molded
Into something vaguely obscene
Held up in public privacy
In exhibitionistic delirium
For all the fellow voyeurs
Tweeting like angry birds
Begging for attention
Blaring the silly and the mundane

Humorous photos and boring updates
What’s on TV, what was for dinner, checking in from Walmart
Shouted statuses
Flit in and out
Faster than a passing fad
Straining to make the irrelevant
Seem important
“One man’s trash…”, so they say
And Warhol’s fifteen minutes becomes a birthright
To ridiculous extremes

NaPoWriMo post #17 (yeah, I’m behind a bit) and dVerse Open Link Night #93…Sometimes when I’m on Facebook or Twitter, I just have to stop and reflect on how completely inane “social media” really is…And then I go back to clicking like, share and comment anyway, lol. 😉

Written Words Read

There is a connection
Through nothingness
In contemplative silence
Across immeasurable distance
We connect
With words written
Words read
Though no voice is heard
No face seen
No eye to eye glimpse
Into a passionate mind
Or a colorful soul
But as we read each others words
Is made
Perhaps soon forgotten
Maybe forever remembered
That inner voice
Small and hidden
Is an ethereal
In written words
Between distant minds

NaPoWriMo 2013 post #16 and dVerse Open Link Night #92

Monstrous Mystery

The mystery is what grabs you
Like he grabbed his victims
Reaches across time
More than 120 years
The mystery
Blatant and nagging
The Who? and the Why?
What did the face
Of the monster look like?

Those women knew
Polly Nichols
Annie Chapman
They saw his face
Heard his voice
Felt his breath
They knew
In the last moment
When it was too late
They had seen the face
Of an animal in human clothing
Something vicious
A horrible human failure
Anonymous and predatory

Eddowes and Stride
And poor Mary Kelly
They looked evil in the eye
Faced Death
Masquerading as a man
But never lived to tell
What a walking atrocity
Looked like

Blood stained fingers still reach out
Across time and space
Like they reached for those unlucky few
The monster still grabs us
With his infernal mystery

NaPoWriMo 2013 post #14 and Brian Miller‘s dVerse prompt on “Monsters”.  For those wondering, this is written about Jack the Ripper and the Whitechapel murders in London in 1888.  Over the last 125 years there have been many, many, MANY theories of who committed those incredibly horrific murders, but no one knows for sure who did it, and probably never will.  I believe that is why this real life monster is still famous (or, more accurately, infamous) today- It’s the mystery that grabs us.


Now the world is bright
And childlike eyes can gleam
For there is naught to worry
But whether the sun shall beam

And “worry”, such a dreadful word
Let us go outside and play
For the world controls not my bliss
Come what will, come what may

Fools will spread their nonsense
Politicians will bluster
But why, within these rolling hills,
Should they dull my eyes’ luster?

My eyes view a world of beauty
Tinged with a hint of shame
But those who fill their hearts with darkness
Have only themselves to blame

This globe is both the yin and yang
There is good (and evil) here
But worldly evils castrate man
And I will not live in tears

Now the world is bright
And childlike, my dreams,
Consist of naught but tears of joy
Let the world be as it seems

NaPoWriMo 2013 post #13…This is a re-write of a poem I originally wrote in 1993

Solitary Confinement

Repeat and repeat
Separated only by drive time
And trying to live
A few lost hours
Til days begin to blur
And the sun feels like a stranger
I ought to…
I’d like to…
But there’s no time

Everywhere I look
But sometimes this life feels like
Solitary confinement

NaPoWriMo 2013 post #12…Inspired by the song by the UK punk band The Members.

Night and Day

The night looked upon the day
With a wry moonlit eye
“You are too bright
Hiding no mystery
Laying bare all things
Naked in your light
With firey beams
You show too much”

The day looked upon the night
With a piercing, shining eye
“You are too dark
Shadowy and chill
Playing with fears
Casting blindness upon all
In your ghostly shade
You hide too much”

The stars looked on
Locked in a distant dance
And marveled
“Do they not know
The Sun and Moon
Are but two eyes
Gazing from the same face?”

NaPoWriMo 2013 post #11

Young Love, Old Friends

You held my heart
Beating in time to your laughter
When I was but a boy
And you the girl-next-door
I felt love for the first time
Blooming in those dry summer days
Beneath a hazy sky
When stars fell
And aurora beamed
And innocence played games in the street

Time has gone
Leaving childhood days
Misty in the rearview mirror
Some faded, some embellished
But when we cross paths
In life’s twisting surreal maze
We smile
And say “Remember when…?”

The days of innocence are past
But they still remain
Tucked safely in the heart
Where young love
Becomes old friends

NaPoWriMo 2013 post #10

To Kurt

19 years ago
Of all places
In a music store, I stood
My weekly ritual
Browsing cds and cassettes
When a man walked in
Approached the store owner at the counter
“Did you hear about Kurt Cobain?
Did you hear
He’s dead?”

Those words
Like a kick in the balls
An icy chill
Spreading across my chest

“Yeah.  It’s a shame.  Such a waste.”
The owner responded
As I left
No longer in any mood
To browse cds

That night
In the shadow of my hero’s image
Posters like blood
Hanging on my bedroom walls
My brothers and I
Listening to that scratchy growl
The voice that spoke to us
Raising our beers
(Though only I was of age)
Offering the toast
We would offer again and again
In years to come

“To Kurt”

NaPoWriMo 2013 post #9 and dVerse Open Link Night #91