Thank you to vox poetica for featuring my poem “In the Gloom” today!
In the Gloom He walked through the door and found a nothingness, like the set of a silent movie being filmed in black and white. He could hardly tell the ceiling from the floor. In the gloom, he found a window and pulled back gathered curtains. Slender beam of light exposed a million specks of dust, all annoyed at being wakened from their dream. He was uncertain of his purpose, but tenacious in his search. He focused on the door then she waltzed in! Suddenly, the room was drenched in color! A light had been switched on and perceptively he knew why he was there. He tried to tell her just how much he’d missed her, but she was fleeting... like the wind, and disappeared. Is that what it’s like when you need someone, but there is no “someone” to be found?
There is a barrier
at the top of the stairs,
but I’ll climb them anyway, for
I’m drawn by curiosity to this place.
I sense a calm and reflective beauty here
but still, I haven’t found what I’m looking for.
Will I know it when I see it – that place or thing I seek?
Maybe not, but I’ll keep looking. Each step forward changes the view.
Perhaps, it’s just around the corner; but quite possibly it’s forever out of reach.
Before I post a poem, I go to my photo archives and select a picture that I think best represents the poem. It’s not my trademark necessarily, it’s just the way I do things. In this case, the photo is almost too perfect. It makes you think I wrote the poem about this particular place, but I did not. The poem is an urge to move forward, to constantly search for new people to meet, new places to go and new knowledge to gain. Staying grounded in the present is often boring; the past is a good place to visit, but not to dwell; so I look forward. Always forward!
Photo taken in Pitlochry, Scotland
GLOW glows best in a bit of darkness!
In Auckland, New Zealand, the Sky Tower has become an iconic landmark in the city’s skyline due to its height and unique design. When measured from the ground to the top of the mast, it is 328 meters (or 1,076 feet) tall, making it the tallest freestanding structure in the Southern Hemisphere. But, as David Eagleman says: “Everything that creates itself upon the backs of smaller scales will by those same scales be consumed”, so how much longer until something taller takes its place?
I’ve always wanted to write one of those rambling,
meditative poems. The kind where you just know
it’s a poem and not some random piece of prose
without the use of punctuation or rhythm
that has been skillfully put together
by someone who has more words on a given subject
than his mind can possibly contain
but has somehow managed with much finesse
to incorporate every single one of them
into one cohesive idea.
I particularly like the part where the author
completes a sentence after a paragraph break just to show off
his ability, his brilliance, his absolute and utter artistry
at keeping you tuned in to his train of thought.
I LOVE that style, I really do!
just when I think I’m making progress,
my pesky sense of rhythm kicks back in.
Feeling woefully defeated I concede
I have written yet another boring poem!
There’s a stillness that is Autumn
on this crisp October morning.
Even geese are silent and
I wonder how far South they’ll choose to fly.
At the moment day awakens
Mother Nature gives a yawn, then
she flexes magic fingers
and throws colors at the hills and the sky.
From the trees on the horizon,
leaves become undone. They drift like
amber snowflakes to the ground.
How dazzling they become before they die!
(because I believe it is His plan to give us the most colorful season right before He delivers the most stark one)