History/Past

Shades of Cranberry

"I seem to hear those gentle

voices calling low out of the long long ago...

That's where I belong, singing a song,

a Song of the South."

Sam Coslow - © 1946 Walt Disney Productions





Plum shades of cranberry

decorate the old piano.

Even without the music

I hear the melody.

What has it seen and

what has it heard,

in those days long past?



Rhapsodies, sonatas,

children singing carols;

the rumble of horses

and firing rifles.

I hold the vase to my face

and inhale the past;

The fragrance is vanilla,

candlewax and fruits.



The sound is long skirts

shuffling and leather soles

on wooden floors;

gentlemen tipping hats.



A gift, maybe,

from a sweetheart.

Plum cranberry,

the color of wine,

catches the sun.

The deep secret within

remains there, for if I knew,

my vision would die,

lost forever to me, the dreamer

~

Author's Notes/Comments: 

I seem to hear those gentle
voices calling low out of the long long ago...
That's where I belong, singing a song,
a Song of the South.
Sam Coslow - © 1946 Walt Disney Productions

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Lady Certainly At The Christian Relic

Long-hemmed, golden summer sun-dress;
tan stockings, the kind with reinforced toes;
sandals---each a sole and one slender strap:
these were inspirited by her fulsome beauty,
the way my poems' lines are inspired by her curves.
The worldly work-week's worn-out cares behind,
we drove across the casual countryside,
to an empty field, wherein an arch yet stood
almost three hundred years since its carved stones
had been raised by some early pilgrim Christian's toil.
On either side of it, only wildflowers;
whatever it gave entrance to was gone.
Before she stepped out of the SUV,
she slid her sandals off; then, silently,
approached the arch, and laid her hand against
the weathered smoothness.  "Such resonances,"
she whispered, almost inaudibly.
Nothing the world could have marshaled
might alter the inward sanctums of meaning
that she, there pious and shoeless,
gathered:  the brethren, the eras,
the Assembly, and the Republic that ensured it;
and, at the center of it all, the Word.
The afternoon was absolutely still---
the light, the flowers, the wind, the birds, a bug;
the revelation (and what other word
describes it better?) so intense, it seemed
almost---exquisitely---unbearable.
After a time, while time still intervenes
before the timeless, we made our way back
reluctantly; and, seated once again
inside the SUV, as we drove off,
she said, "I may not put shoes on again."

 

Starward

[jlc]                      

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A Tragic Love Song

Folder: 
Lost Treasures

I saw the fields of green

that once manifested in my dream

the gold sparkles casted toward the sea

thrown to the wind on a gentle breeze

I could see the world in your eyes

a heaven ment for the skies

I never thought it could be true

I never imagined it would be you



Take my hand and hear my voice

trust my words and see my choice

for what I write will remain timeless

and my words of love, bound to this

through all the chaos of reality

I look in your eyes and see

a sense of peace you bring me



I'm a fallen Angel, with a broken wing

it's not hard to forget, that you're innocent



Everything seems to fall apart

Breaking from the very start

every tear pays the cost, for another chance is lost



I'm drowning, as the pain begins surrounding

As everything falls apart

Bleeding from the start

from a wound that will never heal

from a Life I tried so hard to kill



I'm falling apart, broken and brused

A future that keeps me confused



'Sweet Death', Come take me away

from all this pain,all this suffering

my heart is broken, my heart is torn

bleeding tears, pricked by the thorn

will I ever be free?

As death will someday set me free



Every dream turns into a lie

am I doomed to live this life

voices echo through my head

a failure is what they said

Burry me in my grave

for I may have lived as a slave

I shall die free



I struggle to breath

blinded by the need

you had given me hope for a better day

enchanted by everything you would say

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Why I cant think of you

I write when I cannot speak to you



Can you hear me

Answer me

Nourish me

Thirst for me?



Before I met you

Ecstasy was Just a dream

Conjured within multiple synapses    

After we met

Ultimately everything I knew would

Suffocate within me, and I could not

Exist without you



Indecent

Thoughts



Hover around my mind

Unfortunatly, I don't

Regret

Thinking such

Systematic fantasies  



Together We made

Obstacles

Obliterate themselves



More than ever now, I

Urge you to try to

Create another memory of me

However I doubt you will listen



I noticed I never did



Silently I stood by

Involved only partially

Listening to everyone else

Loving only the dream



Live however you wish

Only just don't think this is a

Victory on your behalf

Everything was not about me



You only made it out to be

Obviously I made my mistakes

Unfortunately I could never correct them

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To Be

why do I haunt myself?

I question my urges,

the past is on its shelf,

yet suddenly emerges.



eccentric random searches,

cause a painful reminisce,

metaphorically lurching,

as I recall a tainted bliss.



my stomach all aflutter,

my patience at its end,

I cast it to the gutter,

my Will is mine to bend.



tho sacred times i yearn for,

the future holds my thought,

those long gone day are naught but lore,

tomorrow shows what ought...

to be.

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The Cycle

I'm wasting green

I'm wasting time

I'm burning gas

I'm burning drive

I'm without cause

I'm without spite

I lack the right

To lose my mind

I'm in a fog

I'm on my side

I'm at a loss

For peace of mind

I tire of the grind

I'm bored with the pitch

I'm amused by the few

And annoyed by the twitch

I fall with the weary

I fall with the worn

I rise with the siren

I rise with the horn

By standards I'm muddled

By figures I'm removed

By scripture I'm rewarded

By fiction I'm abused

I'm simple in my normalcy

I'm different in resolve

At the end of days I'm just a phase

That's simply shaken off.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

I need to start.. Trying.

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Late September

I remember it was late September

Enjoying the sweet summer air

I was seventeen, without a care

When she came along

And taught me there was more



I remember the first time

I saw forever in her eyes

And it tore down every disguise

Sent crashing down the walls I’d built so high

Defied gravity; thought I could fly

It lasted forever, and ended too soon



I remember as summer passed to fall

For me, the task became too tall

I grew bitter and grey

My foolish pride led me to walk away



And now so many summers later

I’m left here to lament

It was late September

When she came along

It lasted forever, and ended too soon

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At Shiloh

My father made a rather hasty vow.
But I knew God would save my life somehow.
We went to Shiloh where the vow was kept.
My father offered.  God did not accept.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

The reader is referred to Judges 11:29-40.  The problem of the sacrifice of Jephthah's daughter is easily resolved when one reads the vow, recorded in verse 31, carefully.  Jephthah vows that the first living creature he sees, after being given a victorious battle, will be the Lord's; and he will offer it as a burnt-offering.  The offer, therefore, contains two clauses:  the commitment to the Lord, and the offering of a proposed consummation.  The vow does not, in any way, promise the consummation in terms of the burnt-offering, but only vows to offer the living creature.  The vow was kept:  Jephthah offered his daughter, perhaps formally, but the declination of the offer had already been set forth in the law of Moses, in Deuteronomy 12:31 and elsewhere.  The Law of Moses also made provision for certain sanctified people to serve the Tabernacle; and some scholars presume that Jephthah's daughter was consecrated to that service for the rest of her life.  By seeing the vow in terms of the offer, the problem is solved; because no vow binds God to acceptance.  Jephthah kept his promise; his daughter kept her life; and God's law kept the solution bloodless.

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At The First Stormy Weather

[the words of Japheth]

 

We, who obeyed the Lord God to embark
upon the buoyant safety of the ark,
have nothing left that we could offer them---
who gave us no heed.  Justly, God will judge
their blatant, casual disregard of Him.
With blasphemous intention, they begrudge
us who do not respect their carnal whim
(to try all manner of perversity
and call it, in their pride, their choice lifestyle).
God's words are absolute, and they condemn
some practices sanguine and fraught with pain
imposed.  Pretending harmlessness, with guile,
they tell us, for that reason, "Let us be.
"We do not harm nor hurt to anyone,
"unless it be permitted with consent.
"That abrogates all sin from the intent
"of anything we do now or have done."
So be it.  Now the ark's doors are shut tight,
and in the sky something disrupts the light,
something that looks like curdled mist.  A while
it has been hovering, bringing a stark
silence upon the world, as drifting dark
sets in.  These falling droplets---are they rain?
Those people out there (who once jeered the ark,
and even threatened once to smash asunder
its timbers) look a little pale and grim.
And some of them might even pause to wonder
"Do I know how to---how long can I---swim?"

 

Starward

[*/+/^]

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