Personal

 
The present doesn’t go with last night’s dream.
My future rolls her eyes. Those older books
Stare at me with their hostile, angry looks
Suggesting that I’d not know what they mean.

My dragons are far kinder than they seem.
We drink fresh water from the ancient brooks.
We catch our fish with only magic hooks
And what we eat becomes our sacred theme.

It’s not that I have nothing to confess.
It’s only what I’ve done is far too small
To bother you with details should I sin.
I’m sure the bed you’ve made looks like a mess.
I’m sure you also felt that you would fall,
But here we are. And look! The morning’s in.

Linked to dVerse Poetics where Anmol is hosting with the art of confession.

Sun Approaches

Bookcases

 
The bookcases of one-by-six planed pine
All screwed to dark but open basement beams
Are how I feel the language of my dreams
Twist hidden deep within each antique line.

I rarely read these books and none are fine
And no one wants them anymore it seems.
Like waters from some minds' now frozen streams
They'd flow for someone’s eyes, perhaps for mine.

Sometimes when lost I find a letter there
Recalling handwriting from someone dear
Suggesting paths forsaken in the past.
The words she wrote were reasoned well with care.
The details I forgot are once more clear.
The present waits then leads me home at last.

Linked to dVerse Poetics where Lillian is hosting with the theme of writing about something in your home that speaks to you and to last weeks’ Meeting the Bar with the sonnet theme.

Three Crows Come to Visit

Sonnet

 

Contented pelicans stand on the shore.
Clouds look solid then they move away.
Water’s back and forth. It will not stay.
With all of this do I need something more?

What is it that I’m always looking for?
There’s the Sun and here’s a newborn day.
There’s a moment somewhere bright or gray
When every breath blows past a bolted door.

I’ll sing these songs of praise and some again
Repeating them like waves whose joy may reach
And soak the toes of walkers on the sand.
Then when my time is done and I head in
And when fresh water smooths this sandy beach
May love songs still enchant this fairy land.

Linked to dVerse Meeting the Bar where Bjorn is hosting with the sonnet form. This sonnet has a rhyme scheme abbaabba cdecde. It is associated with sonnets written by Petrarch.

Clouds
Clouds

Bucket List

Before the music finds a way to end
I hope these faithless fears would take a break;
I hope I’d choose to give more than I take
I hope to trust the present as a friend.
Before I tell a dream it’s time to rise
I hope its vision binds me in some way;
I hope to nourish it throughout the day
Until I find its truth in someone’s eyes.

Before my rhythmic breathing has to slow
I want to say I tried each given task;
I want to feel I hid behind no mask
Preventing any miracle to show;
And if my bucket’s empty when I’m done
I hope you won’t reject an emptied one.


Linked to dVerse Meeting the Bar hosted by Victoria C. Slotto with prompt to write a list poem.
Photo: “Yellow, White, Red and Green” by the author. Flowers on display at the Chicago Botanic Garden.

One Rose

This simple story that is theirs to tell
Is older than the darkness of the night
And truer than the Sun’s new morning light
And deeper than the deepest magic spell.

Between them stood tall mountains none would cross,
A river that ran rapids through their dreams,
A forest that lay dense where one rose beamed
And warned them they could suffer every loss.

They followed Love no matter how they’d fall.
Then mountains bowed to open up the sky.
The river calmed. The forest lifted high.
What fear they felt they now could not recall.

Their tears took root, went deep. They understood
That darkness charmed by light transforms to good.


Linked to dVerse Meeting the Bar: Pop Sonnets hosted by Kim of Writing in North Norfolk with the prompt to convert a pop song into a sonnet.  I am not supposed to tell you which pop song I selected.
Linked to NaPoWriMo2017 Day Thirteen.

Photo: “Watching the Light” by the author

Ego Brain Heart Self

The brain feels crueler than the beating heart.
The gut is grosser resting further down.
Not being robots we are not that smart.
Our hearts don’t understand an AI frown.

The brain helps us when there’s a need to cope,
Anticipate how we should make some move.
Our hearts beat on beyond with rhythmic hope
Way past the need to optimize or prove.

The Moon and Mars are places we have sent
These little brains to tell us what they find.
The heart goes where no robot ever went.
We’re wise to kept our precious hearts behind.

Although we’d lose a game of chess to it,
We’ve sheltered hearts with love because of it.


Linked to dVerse Have a Heart! hosted by Lillian.
Linked to imaginary garden with real toads The Tuesday Platform.
Photo: “Heart Green Shelter” by the author.
My interest in the heart and brain connection comes from reading Rollin McCraty’s articles on the science of the heart.