No Time Given

 For Justine
 
No time given,
Only time taken.
 
Taken for the timeclock,
Coffee; the commute.
Taken for paperwork,
Client calls, and
Writing receipts.
Taken for forced smiles
And wondering why
The boss is in a mood today.
Taken by the grocery store,
The gas station, and
Rush hour traffic…
 
Taken by fibro flare-ups,
Exhaustion, and
That stabbing pain in my knee.
Taken by house cleaning,
Chores, and
The cat box is full again…
 
Taken to try and unwind,
Relax and recover from
The emotional and auditory
Overload fuzzing neurons
Like a 22” B&W TV
With broken rabbit ears.
 
But no time given,
No fucks given
For me.
 
5/20/19
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A Song of Taliesin (Revised & Expanded)

I was a grain of wheat
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
Opening 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.

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Counting the Seconds @ Free Verse Revolution

A new poem I wrote about Time is now available at Free Verse Revolution:

Counting the Seconds

Waves

It comes and goes
Like waves crashing
On the beach
As the tide rolls in,
Wearing away rocks
Into sand,
Washing up driftwood,
Jellyfish,
And the occasional corpse.

I’ve never had
The best balance, but
I try to ride it out
—I’ve been taking lessons—
Adrenaline flows,
Knees wobble,
Let its power propel me,
Fighting it would just lead
To wipe outs, rip tides,
And undertows.

Afterwards,
Resting on the beach,
Dripping wet,
Catching my breath,
As the tide leaves its treasures,
Preparing myself
For the next time
I think of you again.

5/8/19

Shadows on the Sea

The shadow stretches
And grows
As the sun sets
Into the sea,
Until all is darkness.

From daybreak
Until dusk
The clock ticks
Tocks, clicks
Down to the docks.

Seconds and minutes
March in formation,
Precise, steady,
A perfect procession,
Never deterred
From the destination.

Inevitable, equitable,
Never early or late,
Arriving just
When it means to:

At Camlann,
In London Tower;
On the Senate floor.

In an Athenian jail cell,
A Dakota doorway;
In a cornfield in Iowa.

At Missolonghi,
In a Paris apartment;
On board the Ariel
— or was it the Don Juan? —
Sailing into the west.

3/30/19

 

This poem was originally posted on FreeVerse Revolution.

Out of the Shadows

Fall onto knees
Under the shadows,
Shivering, suffering,
Praying for a way out,
Waiting for Gadot,
Sir Lancelot,
Or the appointed anointed,
But nothing arrives,
But darkness.

But no shadow exists
Without a light
To cast it.
Sunshine over the shoulder,
Nothing but darkness
In sight.
No knight needed
To turn and face the sun.

3/19-3/20/19

 

This poem was originally posted, in a slightly different form, on FreeVerse Revolution.

Ravens and Crows

I saw one of Wodan’s ravens
— Or was it one of Badb’s crows? —
Through dirty bus windows,
Flying over hard and frozen snow.

Fly on, old friend, with your mission,
And the messages you wish to bestow,
While, across the rivers, through the mountains
To grandmother’s house I go.

But grandmother doesn’t live there
— Or anywhere —
anymore.
So, to grandfather’s
— my father’s —
house I go.

Rails ride into the night,
Past mountain, tree, and snow,
Darkened windows reflect back
Future fears I cannot know.

Ten full moons have passed
Since the Banshee gently wailed,
Calling me back to the valley
Before the light finally failed.

The last time I saw mother’s face,
So weak and fragile her body’d grown
Yet from her eyes, her loving smile,
That old fire still shone.

And now, across snow-capped Cascades
I am called back once more,
For duty, for love, for unpaid debts,
And a destiny I can no longer ignore.

Not the sorrowful Banshee cry,
But crow-caw; raven-whispers,
Wisdom from the One-Eyed Wanderer;
Warnings from the Crow-Queen’s sisters.

The tapestry the Weird Sisters weave
Is completed when the final knot is tied.
Prepared or not, the future will arrive
On schedule, never avoided, delayed, or denied.

And so, I descend into the valley,
The steel steed never slows.
Uneasy, uncertain, yet undeterred,
Ready to sail wherever this river flows.

The future lies in the past
In that half-empty haunted bungalow,
Watched over and silently guided
By brother Raven and sister Crow.

12/30/18 – 04/23/19

Haiku written in Newport, OR

IMG_20190420_104209317_HDR.jpg

Smell the salt sea air
Sealion laughter echoes
Gulls glide in the wind.

4/22/19

 

Where Do They All Belong

Loneliness,
Empty Spaces,
Within and without,
Yearning to be filled.

Loneliness,
Hollow caverns,
Cold and damp,
Deep inside
Muffled sobs
Echo among the stalactites
Into the darkness.

Loneliness
In a well lit room,
Full of family and friends,
Behind a pleasant smile,
Thin facade keeping them out
And everything else in,
Forever in danger of cracking.

2/13/18

This poem was originally published in Nicholas Gagnier’s book All the Lonely People, which is available in paperback and ebook editions at Amazon.

 

Shadows on the Sea @Free Verse Revolution

My latest poem is now available on the Free Verse Revolution blog:

Shadows on the Sea