tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-62245120542555791992024-03-13T10:46:45.057-07:00Shipwreck Poems Catch 'em before they rust awayStoneAgedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08060919507845734699noreply@blogger.comBlogger35125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6224512054255579199.post-81152618969962741722017-03-03T16:38:00.000-08:002017-10-21T18:46:05.745-07:00You left too soon (In memory of Jim)Hey man,<br />
You left too soon.<br />
Nobody wanted you to go.<br />
You should have asked before you left.<br />
<br />
What's going on?<br />
Was it getting hard?<br />
We would have told you to stay.<br />
The world goes on; but we're most bereft.<br />
<br />
Sure, it was<br />
up to you.<br />
You're life was draining, I know.<br />
Still this smacks of mortally unfair theft.<br />
<br />
Hey man,<br />
We're waiting, you know,<br />
For you to come back, you know,<br />
the door's still open.<br />
We don't mind you took a rest.<br />
<br />
But, okay, if you decide<br />
to stay, if you feel a little better<br />
far away, if you've found a better,<br />
healing way<br />
<br />
Well, good.<br />
But let us know, somehow.<br />
Tell us what you're doing, how you are.<br />
Ah, but you've had your say, done your deeds.<br />
You cleared a field upon this world<br />
and closed the door.<br />
<br />
We'll try to understand, that maybe this was planned, to go forever, to go<br />
for good.<br />
But hey man, you'll be missed, man, for what was best, for that was best.StoneAgedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08060919507845734699noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6224512054255579199.post-3809560854768618312016-02-28T14:20:00.001-08:002017-10-11T16:53:02.424-07:00Their Timeless Might<div class="MsoNormal">
The Oregon coast of which I boast<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
has vista views so vast, I cannot grasp<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
the miles of waves, the strips of white,<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
their foamy fate, their timeless might.<o:p></o:p><br />
The barren sweeping throbbing waste,</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
slow motion ripples, anti-haste.<o:p></o:p><br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
And though I cannot be here when<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
those motions send their undulations<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
through the glare, purring forth in <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
rarified air ten, a hundred thousand<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
years from now, still I know<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
how they will look and sound and feel<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
if eyes and ears and nerves remain.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
And so I see the future in this thing<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
of which I boast, this craggy, cliffy, <o:p></o:p></div>
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif; font-size: 10.5pt;">windy, sunny, this eternal Oregon coast.</span>StoneAgedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08060919507845734699noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6224512054255579199.post-7055293192726891332013-06-11T01:09:00.000-07:002013-07-23T11:53:45.880-07:003/11<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span lang="EN-US">The floor begins to slide beneath me, my
heartbeat takes a lurch</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span lang="EN-US">No longer can my chair bequeath me safety on
its perch</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span lang="EN-US">Minutes pass, minutes pass as on the floor
instead</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span lang="EN-US">I strain for balance as I grasp the framing
of the bed</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span lang="EN-US">In the stillness, in the waiting, more tremors
haven't come</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span lang="EN-US">The pounding of my heart abating, damn earthquake's
finally done</span></div>
StoneAgedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08060919507845734699noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6224512054255579199.post-62189423571056507402013-04-22T17:15:00.000-07:002013-04-22T17:15:22.753-07:00My evil princess<span style="font-family: 'kristen ITC';"><b><br />Your pretty eyes, beautiful smile<br />Oh, my evil princess,<br />I fell for you<br />When we touched, electrified<br />Oh, my fallen princess,<br />what did you do?</b></span>StoneAgedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08060919507845734699noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6224512054255579199.post-83056231305360277122012-11-05T16:38:00.000-08:002016-02-28T14:24:57.860-08:00You Used to Run Across this Sand<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">You used to run across this sand</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Your breath, your heat, your straw blond
hair: the chemistry of you</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">impressed the sand, diverted waves, colored
the air</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">An essence like flame, invisible in light,</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">a hearty presence at night amidst</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">the mist, glowing in the white halo of the
moon,</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">against black water laced with white strips
of roaming foam,</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">in forever rushing receding clunky
roar</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">You, a swelling in the air, ghostly flower
flame, still running, still girlish, still vital; still.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Oh, I touch the sand and feel your warmth</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">I ply the waves and feel your splash</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">I breathe the air and taste your breath</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">Your footprints are still here, and though
long ago gone</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">you are still here:</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span lang="EN-US">separated from me only by time</span></div>
StoneAgedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08060919507845734699noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6224512054255579199.post-79107823867625221052012-03-23T15:57:00.001-07:002012-03-25T00:46:41.774-07:00Even nonsense rhymes will doIt doesn't matter what I write as long as I start<br />
Even nonsense rhymes will do as long as they're tart<br />
I say this plainly though it would make some cringe<br />
But I don't really care as I'm out here on the fringe<br />
<br />
You'd better not be leaving me too far from here<br />
Then you'd have to catch me though I thought I'd made it clear<br />
I would not be drawn back in again to take those pounding waves<br />
Set off by every slipping fault, by all those stormy days<br />
<br />
Writing nonsense like this has such a calming effect<br />
But now that I'm trying to make those rhymes, the effect is wrecked<br />
Doesn't really matter, I can still keep on trying to do this<br />
I can always fall back on cliché, but that's so hit or miss<br />
<br />
Ha, hah! I laugh to myself; that was a funny joke, wasn't it<br />
Using a cliché to illustrate a cliché, I really must admit<br />
that I'm cleverer than I thought, that these ideas just come to me<br />
And here I am on this computer just giving it away for free<br />
<br />
Now I'm wholly immersed in another world that really isn't another<br />
It's a story that didn't really happen, though it kind of did, oh brother<br />
The coincidences between the details and sudden remembrances<br />
All those things that really happened are providing all the nuances<br />
<br />
Remember now, it doesn't matter, I don't have to be Mr. Poet here<br />
Just keep up the good work, keep up the good cheer,<br />
Just a few more months and this long year will be up<br />
As I type and stare at my coffee-filled cup<br />
<br />
Ten or fifteen minutes walking in this searing morning heat<br />
By the time I get here sweat is draining down my arms onto the street<br />
They all say it's been unusually hot this summer but I think that's folly<br />
These past few years have been mild, I say, it used to be this hot, by golly<br />
<br />
I raise my gaze from tiles to the sky and run my eyes<br />
from those tiles to the steel table, bushes, dirty white station, girder tower, white clouds, and icky blue sky<br />
Not so keen on all this today, so I guess I'll just pretend<br />
And since it doesn't matter what I write, on that note I'll end<br />
<br />
Yesterday while drinking ice cold coffee at my table at Aobadai<br />
I started reading through my B**** G*** story, and I don't know why<br />
But even though I was not planning on finishing it until after my workout<br />
Some phrases came to mind, and in a few minutes the ending came about<br />
<br />
And a sad one, too, oh, the weight of a broken heart<br />
Even though he hardly knew her, even though they hardly had a chance to start<br />
She just walked away, maybe by instinct, tactic, I don't know, it was just so her<br />
And though the story is over, I'm already thinking about the next chapter...<br />
<br />
There again are those tiles, bushes, train station, tower, clouds, dirty blue sky<br />
Through the other window is the train bridge over the road; doesn't say Miyazakidai<br />
Says Kawasaki-shi Miyamae-ku in big black letters on a faint green background<br />
I'm here because it's the only coffee shop around<br />
<br />
Of course, I like my place, my table in the brightest place in Aobadai<br />
Though it doesn't have to be there, there are those places from where I can spy<br />
on the girls walking by the glass wall on the floor above, but must be careful not to stare<br />
when they get too close in short skirts that fail from this angle to cover their und*rw**r<br />
<br />
Oh, shut up. Yeh, I know I'm not supposed to get a kick out of that<br />
I'm supposed to avert my eyes and pretend it's not something for me to look at<br />
It's the way of the world, I guess, to claim one thing and do another, especially when it gets too hard<br />
Oh, what do I care, I'm just typing here, trying to be a bard<br />
<br />
Here I am at the Starbucks in Aobadai where I wrote an email to Rob<br />
It's fun writing to him, because I think he understands things. He doesn't have a job<br />
now and is writing music for his future as a musician. I hope he succeeds<br />
If nothing else except for the motivation it in myself also breeds<br />
<br />
I'm also creating a synthesis of all the versions of my Message in a Bottle story<br />
All those attempts to follow editing and writing rules made me sorry<br />
that I tried to fix it for public consumption, forgetting that it’s the storytelling<br />
that will give pleasure, not the mechanics, which, though important, just keep things from jelling.<br />
<br />
Still have 55% percent of my battery left. Pretty good since it's been three hours<br />
But I feel a lunch coming on, guess I'd better go eat before the showers<br />
What am I talking about, it's not going to rain today, or anytime soon<br />
That's right, I did that for the rhyme, just like this next phrase: hey, it's almost noon<br />
<br />
The other day I got to watch the number 10 ranked woman squash player hand out an ass-kicking<br />
The guy looked like he didn't know what hit him, maybe he didn't know, but he got a licking<br />
Of course I couldn't do much better, especially now, with everything hurting like they do<br />
I still have to be very careful about twisting my leg like a screw.<br />
<br />
I finished up Cosmic Time Warrior and did some more Time in a Bottle synthesis<br />
It took just a few hours of work, well, not really work but play, not bad Chris<br />
Gotta go back to my place, maybe type some in or practice guitar<br />
Writing stories, writing music, writing manuals, which one will take me far?<br />
<br />
Ugh, nonsense is nonsense, so is this spiral into the negative<br />
Oh yeah, done this before, forget it, be positive<br />
Just figure out an exit strategy, you can always go back to who you trust<br />
How about some pie with crispy sweet crustStoneAgedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08060919507845734699noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6224512054255579199.post-77641792599076495872012-02-24T17:42:00.001-08:002012-02-25T08:53:11.477-08:00Look who won<div style="left: 20; width: 280px;"><br />
White foam chases me across the sand<br />
But I stay just out of reach<br />
Until the sea recedes and leaves a band<br />
of that white foam ― stranded on the beach<br />
<br />
</div>StoneAgedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08060919507845734699noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6224512054255579199.post-245686893744902562011-08-11T16:37:00.000-07:002011-08-16T00:11:29.225-07:00Deep Summer<div style="left: 20; width: 280px;"><br />
<i>Light recedes, shadows creep 'cross<br />
Simmering city streets<br />
Sidewalks cool in the shallows of the shade<br />
<br />
Sultry days, swamp hot nights<br />
This steamy teapot life<br />
Her body slick with sweat as she gets laid</i><br />
<br />
</div>StoneAgedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08060919507845734699noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6224512054255579199.post-48149339886829923182011-06-07T17:32:00.000-07:002011-06-07T17:32:33.525-07:00The Message in a Bottle (unfinished)<div><br />
The message in a bottle weaves a trail through wind-blown bream<br />
Bobbing and drifting among the swells<br />
No light reflects, no darkness hides its voyage<br />
on the generating stream<br />
<br />
<br />
Until against the shallows rolling peaks begin to foam<br />
Tilting and tumbling, collapsing waves<br />
Swift breaking curls, chaotic mass, it rides<br />
on the ever charging comb<br />
<br />
<br />
While surfing on the dashing waves, it's finally thrown ashore:<br />
when Sifting through boxes among the shelves<br />
I knock one down, it breaks apart and spits<br />
out her letter on the floor<br />
<br />
<br />
My tingling fingers penetrate what I had set adrift<br />
Pulsing and seething, the air recedes<br />
the past bursts in, alive again, I reel<br />
at the momentary rift<br />
<br />
<br />
A fragrance wafting through the air conducts a pungent past<br />
Phantoms and shadows recall themselves<br />
Faint echoes claim their voice again, they form<br />
a reconstituted cast<br />
<br />
<br />
Now throbbing through my dusty blinds, the yellow streaming sun<br />
Rhythm's familiar; I know that shade!<br />
The almanac corroborates my claim<br />
It's exactly the same one<br />
<br />
</div>StoneAgedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08060919507845734699noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6224512054255579199.post-42192593612463803382011-05-20T15:28:00.000-07:002011-06-08T01:17:50.690-07:00Mourning Song<div align="center" style="left: 80; width: 280px;"><br />
From this earth her beauty's passed,<br />
and wracked by loss we weep in pain.<br />
Vain tears of sorrow fill our eyes,<br />
but unbeknownst to breaking hearts,<br />
also blur our view<br />
of that time, that place beyond this mottled, mortal world<br />
where we will meet again.<br />
<br />
</div>StoneAgedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08060919507845734699noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6224512054255579199.post-61796403201753132862011-02-18T23:17:00.000-08:002011-02-18T23:20:28.082-08:00If when you remember me<div style="left: 80; width: 280px;"><div align="center"><br />
</div><div align="center">If when you remember me,</div><div align="center">Whenever my form takes place in thee,</div><div align="center">Tears flood your eyes in honor of me.</div><div align="center">Then our bond shall never sever,</div><div align="center">As merging with eternity,</div><div align="center">I shall live forever</div><div align="center">in your haunted memory</div><div align="center"><br />
</div><div align="center">But when the light behind your eyes</div><div align="center">goes out, when the world no longer tries</div><div align="center">to wake you, when your memory finally dies,</div><div align="center">Who will be there to remember?</div><div align="center">Whose will will make sure ours survives?</div><div align="center">Or will forever vanish</div><div align="center">in the morrow's grave sunrise?</div><br />
</div>StoneAgedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08060919507845734699noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6224512054255579199.post-38270282683931880562011-02-01T06:53:00.000-08:002011-02-01T06:55:20.449-08:00Birth of Time<div style="left: 40; width: 240px;" align="center"><br />
Shan't a moment passes by<br />
The leaves reflect the cloudy sky<br />
The moment's gone and round again<br />
Birth of time, now and then<br />
<br />
Captured light falls through the trees<br />
Sailing wind throws off a breeze<br />
Shadows circling, bound for night<br />
Time is creeping out of sight<br />
<br />
Burning air and rainbow peaks<br />
Orange red purple shimmers streak<br />
Another chime, another way<br />
For time to strike another day<br />
<br />
</div>StoneAgedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08060919507845734699noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6224512054255579199.post-68738329730182224372011-01-10T04:47:00.000-08:002011-01-10T04:47:28.537-08:002010<div><br />
New year's in, old year's out.<br />
I want to shout<br />
with happiness<br />
that that mess,<br />
2010,<br />
won't happen again.<br />
<br />
</div>StoneAgedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08060919507845734699noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6224512054255579199.post-89685303921894870672010-12-30T00:57:00.000-08:002010-12-30T00:59:20.080-08:00Standing on a Sandy Cliff<div><br />
<table bgcolor="gray" height="420" width="315"><tbody>
<tr align="center"><td div="" style="background: transparent url(http://www.greenleaf.co.jp/sandycliff2.jpg) no-repeat;"><p><span style="color:#333333;"><br />
</span></p><p><span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;">Standing on a sandy cliff<span style="color:#333333;"><br />
</span>my face against the wind<span style="color:#333333;"><br />
</span>lines of white across the blue<span style="color:#333333;"><br />
</span>roaring in the din.<span style="color:#333333;"><br />
</span><span style="color:#333333;"></span><span style="color:#333333;"><br />
</span><span style="color:#333333;"></span><span style="color:#333333;"><br />
</span>Twilight promise of the night<span style="color:#333333;"><br />
</span>the boldest stars begin<span style="color:#333333;"><br />
</span>to light the swells whose nighttime glow<span style="color:#333333;"><br />
</span>beckons moonlight kin.<span style="color:#333333;"><br />
</span><span style="color:#333333;"></span><span style="color:#333333;"><br />
</span><span style="color:#333333;"></span><span style="color:#333333;"><br />
</span>Drawn by whispers of the breeze<span style="color:#333333;"><br />
</span>the ocean calls from deep within<span style="color:#333333;"><br />
</span>Alas, I must now turn away<span style="color:#333333;"><br />
</span><span style="color:#333333;">and say good-bye again.</span></span><span style="font-family:times new roman;font-size:100%;"><span style="color:#333333;"></span><span style="color:#333333;"><br />
</span><span style="color:#333333;"></span><span style="color:#333333;"><br />
</span></span><span style="color:#333333;"></span><span style="color:#333333;"><br />
</span><span style="color:#333333;"></span><span style="color:#333333;"><br />
</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
</div>StoneAgedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08060919507845734699noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6224512054255579199.post-60383749237725721172010-12-26T02:59:00.000-08:002010-12-26T02:59:47.444-08:00The Leaping Sloop (or Over the Bar and Onward)<div style="left: 20; width: 220px;"><div align="center"><br />
</div><div align="center">Pounding through the waves</div><div align="center">jouncing like a cork</div><div align="center">twisting in the churning rift</div><div align="center">body-bending torque</div><div align="center"><br />
</div><div align="center">Sinking dip, springing rise</div><div align="center">sideways sudden jerk</div><div align="center">back and forth across the moon</div><div align="center">the mast swings half berserk</div><div align="center"><br />
</div><div align="center">Praying it will stop</div><div align="center">this voyage can't end too soon</div><div align="center">I'll soon be flat out on my back</div><div align="center">staring at that moon</div><br />
</div>StoneAgedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08060919507845734699noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6224512054255579199.post-11632679861970617702010-11-29T06:21:00.000-08:002011-08-14T12:43:02.415-07:00Moonlight Soaked Swells<div style="left: 20; width: 220px;"><br />
<div align="center">Moonlight soaked swells undulate,</div><div align="center">Steely gray this summer's night.</div><div align="center">White waves foaming penetrate</div><div align="center">the dunes, I jump away too late.</div><br />
</div>StoneAgedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08060919507845734699noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6224512054255579199.post-8058691656370009962010-11-15T05:16:00.000-08:002010-11-15T05:20:56.303-08:00Crabbing<div style="left: 20; width: 200px;"><div align="center"><br />
Crab rings surface</div><div align="center">Clattery crabs</div><div align="center">Flipped back like Frisbees,<br />
they row away</div><br />
</div>StoneAgedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08060919507845734699noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6224512054255579199.post-84028770215611511512010-11-05T21:34:00.000-07:002011-08-14T12:43:58.554-07:00Rain is Falling Through the Air<div align="left" style="left: 10; width: 340px;"><br />
Rain is falling through the air, soaking up all sound<br />
Softy roaring rain, pouring pouring pounds the ground<br />
Tiny droplets dripping seeping slowly all around<br />
Earthworms creeping through the grass,<br />
to sidewalks they are bound<br />
<br />
</div>StoneAgedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08060919507845734699noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6224512054255579199.post-25998796484246577032010-10-25T08:26:00.000-07:002010-10-25T08:26:22.982-07:00Oh, Those Critics<div style="left: 60; width: 280px;"><div align="center"><br />
So qualified and full of sighs,<br />
They cannot wait to criticize,<br />
They know their stuff, these clever bards,<br />
Their game were poker, then their cards<br />
Would always be a royal flush<br />
With all those jokers up the tush.<br />
How could they lose, 'cause they're so wise?<br />
Crouched to pounce should you generalize.<br />
An easy win! Or is it so?<br />
Cheap little victory, but don't they know<br />
That every time we speak<br />
We guide our brains to make the leap<br />
Across the gorge between our words<br />
and trace the course that must emerge. <br />
<br />
</div></div>StoneAgedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08060919507845734699noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6224512054255579199.post-87188764528071455412010-10-10T06:24:00.000-07:002010-10-12T01:11:21.436-07:00The Making of Carrion<div style="left: 10; width: 350px;"><div align="center"><br />
In times of past the wings will fly;</div><div align="center">and messages carried by pigeons on drafty winds</div><div align="center">will, if in time, save the day, fewer will die,</div><div align="center">or else vultures will fatten on splayed kings.</div><div align="center"><br />
</div><div align="center">O'er such distance flown wrapped round tiny leg,</div><div align="center">so urgently come, what must they say?</div><div align="center">Rushed scribbles fuming terror, desperately beg:</div><div align="center">"You know your dept, now you must pay."</div><div align="center"><br />
</div><div align="center">Dark shadows shiver on frozen castle walls,</div><div align="center">Torches hissing black smoke through flaming light</div><div align="center">gather heroes to answer their dooming call,</div><div align="center">air squeezed by dread and drained by whispered flight</div><div align="center"><br />
</div><div align="center">Quiet orders prepare restless mounts.</div><div align="center">Seers brought forth to foretell fate</div><div align="center">quiver wordless as they count</div><div align="center">the time left to those nearest Hades' gate.</div><div align="center"><br />
</div><div align="center">While far away queering panic numbs</div><div align="center">the courage in fleeing breasts. As pagan Mars</div><div align="center">whips up the coming storm, they leave their young</div><div align="center">to merciless conquerors for their swords to carve.</div><div align="center"><br />
</div><div align="center">Evil nymphs out from the forest; they dare</div><div align="center">to work their evil covered by terror's nettles,</div><div align="center">their victims never knowing from where</div><div align="center">the arrows came as to the earth they settle.</div><div align="center"><br />
</div><div align="center">Culled victims mouth wordlessly to White Death</div><div align="center">while nymphs rob their prey in remorseless theft,</div><div align="center">losing all, violated until their last breath,</div><div align="center">whence brute ogres spring from their lairs to drag away what's left</div><div align="center"><br />
</div><div align="center">Sudden beguiling calm, is this respite?</div><div align="center">or the receding tide sucked in by the seething</div><div align="center">tidal wave? The silence: Might</div><div align="center">the Gods show pity and intervene?</div><div align="center"><br />
</div><div align="center">But hurrying demons harvest their last.</div><div align="center">A fine yield it was and not much trouble.</div><div align="center">The carnage is coming they know, and fast</div><div align="center">as they retreat back to shadowy forest hovels.</div><div align="center"><br />
</div><div align="center">And warrior waves crash in slaying, screams</div><div align="center">terrorize the fleeing, their lives not long</div><div align="center">as swishing axes leave bloody seams;</div><div align="center">engaged in the timeless making of carrion.</div><div align="center"><br />
</div><div align="center">And rescuer heroes on wheezing horses run,</div><div align="center">eyes fixed ahead, but they cannot see</div><div align="center">the last few minutes of their lives that are done;</div><div align="center">and whose carrion will nourish a sapling tree.</div><div align="center"><br />
</div><div align="center">------------------------------------------------------------</div><div align="center"><br />
</div><div align="center">that grows up high over hundreds of years,</div><div align="center">spreading wide branches whose leaves enchant</div><div align="center">us as we retell this tale of long dried tears,</div><div align="center">shaded from the sun on green grass so fragrant.</div><div align="center"><br />
</div><div align="center">Does it matter anymore what happened here?</div><div align="center">Does its tranquility mock unfathomed history?</div><div align="center">In a distant flash of time men would die for things so dear,</div><div align="center">and be forgotten for the rest of eternity.</div><div align="center"><br />
</div><div align="center">------------------------------------------------------------</div><div align="center"><br />
</div><div align="center">And their carrion has fed this tree,</div><div align="center">Where we sit so comfortably.</div><div align="center">The quiet breeze, the soothing calm,</div><div align="center">Where we live so joyfully,</div><div align="center">Where they died so terribly.</div><div align="center"><br />
</div><div align="center">Oh, Site of carnage, unconsoled fear,</div><div align="center">Coated by time, the tumor has disappeared.</div><div align="center">And no one knowing what fate did here.</div><div align="center">What does the caressing breeze conceal?</div><div align="center">And a casual dig ... reveal?</div><br />
</div>StoneAgedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08060919507845734699noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6224512054255579199.post-37499428288421953552010-10-06T01:05:00.000-07:002010-10-06T01:05:56.033-07:00Are You Going to Bring Me Doom?<div style="left: 80; width: 280px;"><div align="center"><br />
Are you going to bring me doom,</div><div align="center">tales of havoc coming soon,</div><div align="center">of draining seas and shattered moon,</div><div align="center">of future bleak with pressing gloom?</div><div align="center"><br />
</div><div align="center">Or are you going to bring me light</div><div align="center">that sweeps all darkness from my sight,</div><div align="center">forecast a future only bright</div><div align="center">with hope, when goodness holds all might?</div><div align="center"><br />
</div><div align="center">Or are you going to bring me dawn,</div><div align="center">or offer dusk with shadows long,</div><div align="center">or cloudy days that go along</div><div align="center">with blue sky breaks and sunshine strong?</div><div align="center"><br />
</div><div align="center">Heaven sent and Hades bound,</div><div align="center">fate keeps throwing us around.</div><div align="center">Lightened up and weighted down,</div><div align="center">in bliss we bask, in dread we drown.</div><div align="center"><br />
</div><div align="center">Yet always comes another day,</div><div align="center">better times or worse some way.</div><div align="center">Are not content we who can say</div><div align="center">for nothing more or less we pray?</div><br />
</div>StoneAgedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08060919507845734699noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6224512054255579199.post-81457537943896327962010-08-24T08:00:00.000-07:002010-08-31T21:20:22.490-07:00Dawn is lit<div style="left: 40; width: 260px;"><div align="center"></div><div align="center"><br />
Trees blur in misty air<br />
over steely flat river<br />
flowing in the glow<br />
of morning's sunrise embers, mountains<br />
grow into the graying sky<br />
<br />
as<br />
<br />
Percolating on the rocks<br />
hissing water mutes the shocks<br />
of branches snapping in the sun<br />
the dawn is lit, the day begun.<br />
<br />
</div></div>StoneAgedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08060919507845734699noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6224512054255579199.post-62169133163278798092010-08-13T05:43:00.000-07:002010-08-16T03:33:05.448-07:00Waterfalls<div style="left: 40; width: 260px;"><div align="center"></div><div align="center"><br />
Lacy strips adorning walls<br />
of black rock cliffs: waterfalls,<br />
chanting in their whispered hush,<br />
harmonize with the wind wrestling<br />
in the quiv'ring brush.</div><br />
</div>StoneAgedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08060919507845734699noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6224512054255579199.post-27253270517886561002010-08-05T06:02:00.000-07:002010-08-05T06:22:56.678-07:00F@&#, it's hot<div align="left"><br />
</div><div align="left"> Fuck!</div><div align="left"> It's hot.</div><div align="left"> Cool in the shade, I am not.</div><div align="left"> There sure as hell's an awful lot</div><div align="left"> of summer coming, devil's plot.</div><div align="left"><br />
</div>StoneAgedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08060919507845734699noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6224512054255579199.post-2553820613307949202010-07-24T06:05:00.000-07:002010-07-24T06:09:30.245-07:00Time Posts<div style="left: 40; width: 275px;"><br />
<div align="center"><i>was</i> and <i>is</i> and <i>will be</i> are</div><div align="center">words that tell us just how far</div><div align="center">we are from now, and let us know:</div><div align="center">where we can and cannot go.</div><br />
</div>StoneAgedhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08060919507845734699noreply@blogger.com0