Jewels in the Sky

Glistening jewels coat
the tips of trees
which light the skies
with lofty ease.
Priceless Rubies, Topaz stones,
and Mandarin Garnets
in orange tones.

Each will be sold in silent bidding
with votes harnessed
from a passing crowd
of wide, uplifted eyes
whose currency, only fitting,
is to be pleased-
sometimes out loud!

Later these gems
whose fiery flames
burned without heat
and singed none but their stems,
these dazzling comets
will fade and fall
down to earthly feet
whose toes will curl
deep into the ground
and stoke the coals
for next years round.

A Mardarin Garnet.

Longing Alone

Glum fingers
fondle fish foils
(yesterday’s crusty hours)
feeling for the door, knobless with forget
knowing there must be a (w)hole somewhere

ice age shadows cool the burning soul
to a dull red glow, while
moldy moments and minute ears
fill with reverb
but no new song,
just longing…

Rhythms of the Seasons

Enjoy! And best wishes for a joyous holiday to you all!

The rhythms of the seasons hypnotize us
as they go ’round and ’round and ’round,
faster each year as we age,
building to some distant, palpable climax
while receding from another, past.
Faster they spin, compelling us to fill fragile days
with meaningful events,
(love may deepen,
hate grow brittle,
poetry more necessary)

To and fro, light to dark, the pendulum swings
stupendously, irrevocable across the map, throbbing
in every molecule with its unabashed preponderance.
No sooner sweet Summer arrives in her full sensual glory
and vapid dissipation, then by the slightest incline,
the longest day tipped, we star the slow, poignant slide
to the depths of Winter.

Thus we arrive again at this valley of Yin,
whose darkness and gravity turns us inward
to our sweetest, softest, most delicate
center.

As if by sheer will (and hope and need)
we nudge the gyration back toward light,
we indulge in glitter and compassion.
We reward love needed and given
with earnest countenance.
We search our souls for cheerful ways
to decorate the days.
We celebrate the counterpoint of our lives,
barely pausing to reflect
over the abyss which lies beneath
the fragile music we make.

The photo is of a small section of a large, useless, tinkling, colorful machine. It was built over a period of 25 years or so, part by bit, by a man who made it just for fun, and for his children’s entertainment. Now it’s an obscure tourist attraction. It’s housed in a little hut, perhaps 20 ft by 15 ft in the middle of nowhere, next to his house, where his wife still lives. I think he was a farmer. He used found objects and toys and trash, whatever caught his eye. It all fits together in some way. When turned on, the whole thing whirs and clicks and clangs and flashes. Being in the middle of Bavaria, it was normal and appropriate to find a crucifix perched in the middle somewhere.

There is something comforting about this scene, which is almost alter-like. The colorful chaos and glitz surrounds the peaceful icon. Sorry it’s the wrong icon for the season, but I sort of like the twisted irony of it.

technorati tags- Christmas poems, Solstice poems, Yin and Yang

Jingle Ironies

A day can seem like forever born,
a year but a passing shadow.
Ten hours in a car to nowhere, forlorn,
stellar travel just out on the patio!

There’s a feast before us, ready to consume,
yet the largest, glitziest package may be hollow
while the tiny, cardboard box may perfume
long winter nights with dreams one can follow.

A world in a word, sealed with a kiss,
yet years mayn’t ever heal a kiss wounded.
Who’s to say what the meaning is, ’til
you see that “you’ve got to choose it!”

Jingle ironies or love’s frivolity, it’s
not with whom, but how we share life, clearly.
Be gentle by your spirit and kindle its fortitude.
Share with those who might need it so, dearly.

technorati tags- Christmas poems, friendship poems

Absolute Purr-fect Truth

I open a can
of cat food,
the “swick” of which
opens the scene
and the purring
begins. I am the maestro.
My orchestra is ready.
A “prrrrrooowww”
comes in stereo duet from
a Siamese and a Gray Tabby.

Big green and blue
eyes blink kissingly
up at me; I can almost hear
the tingle of a triangle at
each loving lash. Fur
rubby-dubby love sings
to my naked calf.
I almost trip over
their insistence and
and personal attention.
Such detail and rhythm!
Such poise and finesse!
These musicians know
how to pull my strings
with a tune of sweet contentment.
Around them, there is no time,
only feline smiles and the
music of purr-fect truth.

The photo is of my buddies, who are also each other’s buddies, Punker(17 y.o Tabby) and Merlin(4 y.o. Siamese).