Tag Archives: moon

by

Dance on the words 

It's a quiet afternoon
Silence sings a tune
 Summer presses down with heat
 Far away the bustling city beat
 Resplendent green and lush the land
 Like a drawing from an artist's hand
Tonight the light is called full moon

Orange circle drifting in the sky
Every star is faint and shy
 Waiting till the moon has set
 and on the grass the dew is wet
 A chance to twinkle one more time
 and send a message that might rhyme
The rising sun brings their goodbye

In the kitchen coffee brews
the antidote for those who snooze
 The day in steps of hours walks
 but to the time in seconds talks
 Today the heat has lost the fight
 thunder, rumbles, lightning bright
The clouds the moon refuse

Obscured, the moonlight hides away
Divergent thoughts like night and day
 No one knows what all is hidden
 but keeping secrets is forbidden
 Sealed is the book, only the title is exposed
 Unblock the code of fate with poetry and prose
Dance on the words without delay

Convert to action and to play
Hear their sound and what they say
 Words are the mirror and the soul
 They tell the story as a whole
 Inside their heart the meaning waits
 Once opened up they flood the gates
Dance on the words across the Milky Way
by

quiet at the fifth 

I am not irrelevant but I have no say
Life treats me like a fray
It slithers down my spine ice-cold
A cheek to be so bold

Like wind purges foliage off a tree
Your voice strips my soul from me
Raging in its force, shaking determinedly
A piece of wood without a fire I cannot be

Stormy clouds race north to south,
across the sky
Sunlight is your makeup, 
impermanence your high
Everyday you tell me that nothing stays the same
You are the background,
the thoughts I try to tame

Incubated into a form whose shape has adopted me
Parents, people, prophets, telling me who I should be
Unique my spirit lies within the egg of cause
A shape the universe has used with great applause
Behind the shell an artist draws,
a never-ending picture free of any laws

A hunger gnaws to make it work
that concept called the ‘living bit’
To find a way and have my say
without this lifelong thought-delay
And bring about a wonder-hit
Board that private pleasure-trip
A knowledge in the egg was heard.

Thinking, waiting, spellbound by time
An echo from the shell I hear
The caller only I can be
It’s not the answer,
so I think
To thought and waiting I return again
An echo from the shell I hear
Around in rhyme in time I be

Life, ever partially in some control
I’d be a liar claiming it's on a roll
or thinking that I have it taped
It blows with gale and sleeps with the wind
A male drugged by a penchant for the scind

Opposing forces and extremes attract
The teaching is amok, it is a fact
Eyes squinting through a frame and tint
find written on my comets trail a goal
and where I stand
in the context of the whole

Dreams, the unhatched eggs
Soul food as they nourish me
A potential waiting for the crack and light
Mostly they define past my reality,
and let me write
Unhatched hatching eggs with fantasy

Upright in the chair of thought
a string of time some questions brought
Five moments later as my breath abates
the quiet mind with picture waits.
  Underneath a story reads:
    Vision: hot air for the thought-balloon.
    Imagination: the ladder to the moon.