Haiku on Autumn Weather

Golden wet oak leaves
Mulch in puddles of decay
Earthworms turn the soil.

10-12-18

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I Need to Go

For Justine

Driving down
A dark dirt road,
Under a pine tree canopy.
Destination set
For wherever the road leads.
Nowhere to be,
But where I am.
Seeking nothing,
But myself,
Inspiration,
And, maybe,
A little adventure.

Fly rods and fishing poles,
Campfires and marshmallows.
Sleeping under the stars
Unpolluted by city lights.
Walking in the footprints
Of history,
Feeling the sea breeze,
Smelling the salt air,
Travel down the trail
To see something
I’ve never seen,
To live life
While I’m able,
Neither hindered
Nor held back.

I just want to leave
And never return.

8/7-10/08/18

The Battlefield

wwimontage

An old weary soldier,
Alone on an empty battlefield,
Mud filled trenches and
Bombed out craters.
Still smoldering fires in the distance.
Every other soul,
Friend or foe,
Felled along the line.

A brief pause,
After the battle is spent,
Tattered clothes,
He talks to ghosts,
Debating with death
To lay down arms
Forever
Before the conflict continues.

10/8-10/9/18

Image is taken from a WW I Montage, found on WikiMedia Commons.

My Heart’s in the Highlands

loch_long

My heart’s in the Highlands
Gentle and free,
No matter where I go
No one seems to be talking to me

Walking and listening
To the magpies at play
Struggling to hear exactly
What it is that they say

Perched in their trees
Reciting remembered rhymes,
Drawing up images
Of far better times.

My heart’s in the Highlands,
Where my grandfathers once dwelt,
Dreaming of how that refreshing
Aberdeen breeze must’ve felt

Walking my own road,
Unburdened and free,
Just like that homeless family
That no one seems to see.

Invisible, immaterial,
Like a Ring-Wraith without a cloak,
Drifting on the wind
Like ashey crematorium smoke.

My heart’s in the Highlands
Where there’s nothing left to fear,
My heart’s in the Highlands,
Nobody even knows I’m here.

10/1-10/6/18

Inspired by My Heart’s in the Highlands by Robert Burns and Highlands by Bob Dylan.

The image at the top of the post is a Photo taken by Richard Webb on 17 October 2005 of Loch Long, northwards up the loch towards Ben Killilan and Sgumain Coinntich, and originally posted on geograph.org.uk.

Haunted

Walking and old path
Down aging concrete,
Grayer than memory allows,
Each crack as familiar
As the crease of my palm,
Volcanoes and lightening strikes,
slow step through time.

Great pine tree,
Full of crow calls
That I answered
On my way to school.
Now as silent
As a schoolyard
In summertime.

They’re selling sub sandwiches
Where the arcade used to stand,
Baking pizzas
In the old Datsun showroom,
The lot too big for the business.

There’s a hole in the house,
Where you used to be,
On the left side of the couch
Next to your teacup,
Smarties, and Kindle.

There’s always a chill
When I sit in that spot,
Sipping chai tea
From your cup,
Remembering
When you were here.

8/21-10/1/18

While it Lasts – a senryu

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Enjoy the moments
As they come and pass away
Never to return.

8/18/18

Merlin

Merlin, oh Merlin,
Where did you go?
To search for the sacrificial Raven
And the battle hardened crow?

Did Nimue trap you
In a damp dirty cave?
Are you dreaming ‘neath the hills of Prydein
Of all the lives you failed to save?

But could even you have stopped the slaughter,
The disaster on the fields of Camlann,
The blood drawn, the kingdom lost,
On that wicked day destiny damned?

You put Arthur on the throne,
Twas history that threw him down,
Leaving only pale pretenders
To try and grasp Prydein’s crown.

Merlin, oh Merlin,
Was it worth the cost,
That brief shining moment,
Now forever lost?

9/6-9/27/18

There Once Was A Poet (For Dr. Seuss)

I wrote this poem way back in May of 1991 after reading that Dr. Seuss, a favorite author since childhood, had fallen ill.

There once was a poet
Who wrote some prose
It rhymed quite a bit
And tickled my toes

There once was a poet
I’ve heard he’s quite ill
Though he has a talent
That no mere illness can kill

There once was a poet
Who brought me much joy
By continually teaching me
What it’s like to be a little boy.

13 May 1991

On a whim I sent a copy of the poem to Dr. Seuss and shortly therafter recieved this card in the mail:

Dr Seuss Card

Sadly, he passed away a few months later in September of 1991.

A Song of Taliesin

I was a piece of grain
In Cerridwen’s belly
That grew into a man.
Gwion Bach devoured,
Reborn with a radiant brow.

She sought to inspire
And I was inspired.
Inspiration meant for another,
But fate had other plans.

I stirred her Cauldron of Awen,
Its contents burned
And opened eyes and mind.

I was there
When the universe
Was a white hot grain,
And will be there
When it is an ice cold cloud
Spread thin by time.

I was there
In the valley of Rhun,
Before the years had been numbered,
By the shores of sunlight
When the fair ones
First gazed upon the trees.

I saw the Sword of Light
Forged by the sons of Twerios.
I saw the son of Vandar
Buried in the earth.
Family fragmented
Along the shores dispersed

I was there
When the flood waters came
And Cessair by Bandba was saved.
While Elfhame vanished
Under the waves.

I saw sister Alba
Lost in a foreign land.
Rescued by a knight
From the end of the world,
Reunited with her mother
She would be.

I was there
When Bran crossed the sea
To restore his sister’s honor.
I heard steel strike steel,
I saw the blood river run.

I sailed home
With Manawydan and Pryderi
To bury the king’s head
Facing the foreign lands.

I was there
When Degfed and Lleu
Sailed to Alfheim’s remnants
To make uncle Nudd whole.
The Sword of Light
And hand of silver flesh
Wielded against his brother
To restore him to the throne.

I saw the black blades forged
By twerger hands alone,
For Caswallawn
And the wealthy wolf
To drive the dark ones
From their home.

I saw a king
Seduced by chaos,
Abandoning justice;
Giving rise to a Dark Queen,
Dressed in green,
Bathing a kingdom
In self-indulgence,
Decadence and greed.

I was there
When Alberech
Threw down his cousin
By the black blade of Blaidd,
Watching his sea fortress burn,
A fire he lit
From a far younger land.

I watched
As he walked away
Into wilderness,
Into legends and dreams.

I was there
When the sons of Nemed landed
At the mouth of the Ituna.
Welcomed by fair Queen Uonaidh,
As if she’d been expecting them
All this time.
Giving them land and her daughters
As Prydein gave his name
To the land.

I was there
At Badon
When Arthur earned his name.
I heard the cheers,
I smelled the blood,
And knew it wouldn’t last.

I was there
On the Prydwen with Arthur,
Sailing to Eire or Annwn,
To rescue, to pillage,
And to have glory got.

I was there
At Camlann,
I saw Arthur fall.
Misunderstandings and murder,
Disintegration of the land.

I was there
When Gwion Bach
Stirred the Cauldron of Cerridwen
For and entire year.

I saw him burn,
I saw him alight.

I saw him devoured,
I saw him reborn.

I was there
When Elphin found the babe
And raised him as his own.
I heard him give the boy a name:
Taliesin.

9/7/18

The Raven and the Eagle

ornament_with_eagle2c_100-200_ad2c_roman2c_gold_-_cleveland_museum_of_art_-_dsc08277

The legions of the Eagle come
To the bless’d Raven’s home,
Shackled the land and the people,
Burning their sacred groves.

Eagles live in Aeries of gleaming gold,
Yet covet a raven’s humble tents,
Thirsty for glory and hungry for power
For no sake but its own.

Yet the Raven resisted, fighting
Alongside the Lion of the north,
And the Dragon of Red,
Refusing to go quietly
Into that good-night.

The Eagle placed the Lion
Behind a guarded wall,
For fear he might get bitten,
Or crushed by a mighty paw.

The Dragon and the Raven
He smothered together
Under the yoke of his love,
Until the day his aerie collapsed
Under its own bloated weight,
And all that was left to fear
Was the coming of the Blood Red Dove.

9/4/18