Amonst the fireflies

Dancing in the fields

Amongst the fireflies
Mirroring the stars from above
The music playing in my head
Wondering is this still summer time
The moon light casting exceptional shadows
Another day done
Little truth in every smile
A little more in every joke

Some days

Some Days

Some days there are trucks in the trees

On valley roads

Moon dogs around

A full moon in a September sky

Rainbows at midnight

Quicksand pulls slow

The stars line up and go unnoticed

The heat feels cold

Life can change in a blink

Know that it has is a trick

Less energy to smile

The Moon Bright

The Moon Bright
The moon bright in the eastern sky

The fireworks reflects off of the lake
A mirror image all night long
Reason for the celebration alludes
A roller coaster train ride ends
They say one does not smell when dreaming
The scent is strong
A farm house in a valley
By a rail bed
The colors of fall brilliant
Even in the moon light
I ask” what do you want of me?”
The answer is nothing
I asked the cab to stop in the middle of a rain soaked road
The face in the window disappears as the cab drives away
The red brake lights changes to two eyes
The hawk flies overhead
Pointing in a direction I would never choose
The moon bright in the eastern sky at mid night
The color of the vegetation all bright red
Fireworks across the lake all night long
A celebration that alludes
Enjoy the show any way
The scent of paradise strong

Truck in the trees

A truck in the trees on hill above a town
Haunting dreams that keep sleep at bay
During a storm
The wind rattles the window pains
Trying to be heard through the rain
Soon the snow will hide all the changing colours
As the day turns into another
Followed by the season
The noon is like a period at the end of a sentence
Never read and hardly recognized
We are here for a short time
In the bigger world
It is a wonder
A truck is the trees
On hill to the right
Above a town

Lost in the fog
Makes little sense
The truth on the radio
Piped in through the walls at dawn

twist it around

Twist it around

Making sense

With indiscriminate scenes

Fog in the morning

Burning off about noon

Still making little sense

Sounds on the radio

Memory flash backs

To an idealized past

Directions on a highway sign

Crosses in the ditches

Souls left behind

Holes through a beating heart

Wishing the story ended differently

Breathing tension

Stressing about the future

Living in the past

Step over the images

Left on mountain top

Looking up at the sky

As the eagle flies by

More random

An angel called today

Said she lived next door
And loved the scent of spring
Even in the fall
Said it was easy to fill an abyss
A bottomless hole with hope
I responded that I was unavailable
Cause I was moving furniture
To 7 Ave

Random Thought for the week!

Random thought
Articulate counterfactuals

Accentuated blur of images
Fog hovering opacity
Life a picture of dishabille
Multiple interpretations
Hypothetical hopelessness
Tolstoy said “if you want to be happy, be!”
Perhaps that was to Shakespeare’s
“To be or not to be”
William says live your own quotes

Images of fall

Images of summer

In twenty years they may think about this day

A deer at sunset

if you were

If you were an angel

What would you say?

To make the pain go away

Would you speak to me during the night?

Or in the middle of the afternoon

Fill my dreams with your desires

Or speak to me in the language of old

Slaying my enemies

Looking like a demon

Striking fear

Cutting through their souls

Or simply look like the girl from next door

With a whispering voice

That people stop to hear

Striving to understand each word

A smile that can be seen in the eyes

Minutes before the lips curl up at the edges

A smile that lights up a room

Even after  it’s gone

What would you do to make it all go away?

To make the pain dissipate

To make the rains cold bite

Feel like the suns warm embrace

Would you crawl across the covers

Like the suns fingers across the clouds

Time is running out

As the dream is obscured by cold reality

A Hawk

A hawk
Came to visit
second year in row
7 in the morning
Came a knocking
Three knocks
Saying hello
Inches from my head
Wings wide
Talons reaching out
Then took flight
Around a corner
With glance
Three comfortable under the covers
Windows all around
A bedroom with a view
Trees on three sides
Overlooking a lake
90 miles long
No visitors accept the animals
And a dog named spot
Is this dream with in a dream?
Silhouette walks with panther
Along a road
The only colour a red tree on the right
Hawk flying just overhead
As three knocks on window
Wake me
a feather floats to the floor
Looking up a hawk says hello
Talons reaching out
The ambers from the fire
Cast an artificial light
Fog on the lake cast a ghostly shadow
A new day

3:55 am

3:55 am
Awake again
The sounds of wood owls
Playing
Extinct they said they were
This is how I know
Yesterday is ended
Starting new
Staring at a ceiling
Involuntary shiver
Summer is over
Long winter three years long
Clouds so grey
All of a sudden it is dawn
Rain struggles to
Wash the bitter taste away
Clock reads 4:00 am now

jet plane

JET PLANE

Looking for a jet plane

On a sandy knoll
Just a play thing
At the whim of a colourful butterfly
A little too late for an empty apology
Words without meaning
Very little care
Glances that cut through
How can you bury a Jet plane in the sand?
Odd that the numbers are even on both sides
On street on a bay down near the lake
Anonymity on an odd bay
Sanctuary from the maze of deceit
One could say
Sombre elegance etched in the tile from yester year
Recuperation
Anonymous vigilance
Like a malignant flower
Veiled by the decay
A headache scratching behind the eyes
Conscious thought a kind of agony

Tears on fire

Tears on fire
Burning with the rain
Silent sorrow
Discontent flared
Paralyzed by beliefs
Acquiesced on the other side of never
Impatient
Devotion insanity
Attitude sanguine
The taste of disappointment
Brittle yet expected
Self deception
Learning to see the truth
Recognize the tricks one’s mind plays
Hidden in the facts
Superman sells kryptonite
To the unworthy
What does it mean?
Framing silhouettes’
In wordy allegory
Obvious
Memories hovering like morning fog
Dissipates quickly

Waiting by the phone

Waiting by a phone
For a call
That will never come
Time crawls
Tick tock
Every movement in slow motion
I know it will never arrive
But there is always hope
One day may arrive
Just maybe
As the lid
Comes down
Wasting the days away
Stopping it no use
One day was yesterday
Maybe in June
A line in the sand
Frozen in memories
Echoing off the rhythm
Of natures heart
As the waves
Wash the lines away
As the jet planes
Fly over head
At 34000 feet
Nowhere near here