"Another Today..."

I saw sunrise visit again,
yet another dawn reflected in sunset's glass.

The aroma of stale 'fresh' coffee -
tickling - cup warm in my hands.

Sitting, watching life pass
to the tick of this minute's eternity.

Tick... Tick...
TICK...

the only sound of time's passing -
dripping, moments of minutes -
flowing, perception reaching -
growing, fading reality's presence.

Even the centerpiece flowers
are bent low - weighted
by their own sense of futility -
awaiting a future moment
while they, as I, dream...
of standing tall
and sure and firm
in a sunlight,
a somewhere, a sometime.

Where am I - when am I,
what and who and...
why?

Tick... tick...
TICK.

Chris

Tags: Poetry Writing

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"Behind Closed Doors..."

There are monsters under the bed...
if I just lie here
oh so still
and oh so silent
though the tears are flowing down
down my cheeks
onto my pillow
in the dark
unseen
maybe
just maybe
they'll come out
and play.

Chris

Tags: Poetry Writing

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The "Cafe` Series" - another past one.

“Hey ole man, how’s your coffee holding up?”  I paused my writing – just more of my scrawling, actually, and looked up.  Her eyes were crinkle-squinched and her lips had that smile. 

“God’s gonna get ya…” I said, “Ole man…sheesh…” and motioned toward the empty mug.

”Well it isn’t like you’ve had your normal five or anything yet,” she quipped back as she poured, laughed, then continued on her customer rounds.

I like sidewalk cafes.  You can pause a bit, think things over… and over again – if necessary.  Write if you like, watch – everything and everyone… and sip coffee.  And HERE the coffee is actually good and Mary is cute as hell too.

University towns have that certain ‘feel’; so many enthusiastic highs beside the deepest darkest lows - the ones that the daytime soaps just can’t seem to get enough of, let alone get right.  “Guys and Dolls,” I mumbled to myself as I watched so many ‘dreams’ meandering by.  Well, back to the scrawling…

Time has this way of passing without notice when I write.  Focus is seldom an issue regardless of background noise or events.  Yet I sensed eyes – looking over my shoulder.  Then came the scraping sound of a chair being pulled up to the table.

”Hi” I said - without thought or pausing or even looking up, trying to finish the current line before it escaped forever.  Then Mary came up beside me, “and you’ll have?” she asked.

The answering voice derailed the train.  “Black coffee – and bring him another too, please.”

I looked up and into a place a man – no man – should ever wander into without malice of forethought - the absolute greenest eyes gazing back into mine.  I could actually breathe but didn’t know if I wanted to… I didn’t even notice Mary writing down the ticket, then turn and walk away.

There’s pretty and beautiful and striking and then – there was her.  I wasn’t at a loss for words – there WERE no words… to say or think or interfere – just the absolute greenest eyes gazing into mine.  It took a moment… “Damn.” I said and shook my head lightly to break the spell.  Such is the gestalt of captured attention.

”Pardon?”  She laughed out loud… even I KNOW a woman realizes the effect she has on a humble target of opportunity.  “I said… Damn,” I answered then chuckled, “You have quite a presence.”

This time she chuckled back, “Yeah, neat isn’t it?”  as she reached and took my notepad from the table, flipped a page back, paused and then began to read aloud.

”There are so many echoes
through our lives.
Moments beyond count -
though so few remembered…

each touch our nows

and our being -
and we?

Don’t even see
our present coming, because
our past shades our eyes,
our thoughts, our tastes of existence.”

 ....She paused looked into my eyes again… smiled.  Then she turned the page and continued…

”I like the thought
of tomorrow…
the taste of it on my lips,
the smoothness of it in my mind.

There’s a FEEL that it has
to me
unlike any other thought
any other wish
construct
presence
desire…
unlike even the touch of…”

”...The absolute greenest eyes
I’ve ever seen,” I finished the last line for her.

Chris

Tags: Writing Poetry

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"Drifting..."

I watched the sunrise
today
coffee in hand -
the deep black contrasting
the 'explosion' of color.

The mug's steam expanded
and expanded
into transparency
sort of like us and life -
the steam was still there
its just I - we - look through it
and not at it...
understand?

We don't pause enough
and in the 'running'.
We miss - too much
until, well - we ARE paused
by life,
and then the focus - just happens
and we see what we didn't 'notice'.

Sometimes its too late,
but for a few - being 'touched'
is a life's-line bringing them in
from the cold and dark...
there ARE rainbows behind-our-eyes
and love awaiting within.

Chris

Tags: Poetry Writing

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Some poems are exceptionally long, others – awesomely short.  Each has its own impact within a reader… it’s always the thought that counts, the emotions touched - not a word count.

“Daddy, Is There Really A Santa Claus???”

…  no  …

Chris

Tags: Poetry Writing

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A comment from 'Jasmine' on my page brought this to my fingertips.

"Paused..."

I took a breath -
held it...
longer -
longer still,
then ever so slowly
exhaled.

...and she was still there.

Chris

Tags: Poetry Writing

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"Good Harvest..."

Fall brings a pause -
a gathering of energies.
It's the harbinger of 'sleep'.

Our mornings have that BITE
that taste of 'fresh'
and a feeling of rightness,
an awaiting of completeness.

Its time that we 'harvest',
  each in our ways -
    'reaping' what was sown
        as we traveled our paths...

We've walked fields - while EFFORT
  took place to renew existence and promise;
we've worked - and our labors provided
  and empowered our societal goals;
we've paused in classrooms - and minds were touched
  and awakened to past and present realities;
we've dreamed and some - a most lucky few,
   have touched their 'stars'.

...and now - in a kitchen - at a table
coffee awaits
slowly cooling...

Our minds interact and
  our eyes look within...
and
  Fall is ageless
    we don't know its coming
       it just IS...
no rhyme, reason or warnings -
just a morning's 'frost'
  and the earth awaits the Spring.

Chris

Tags: Poetry Writing

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"Hmmm..."

Streetlights and shadows,
whispers and smiles,
through the looking glass
we gaze
and share
...and wonder
and our coffee sits
cools
chills...
and we just got 'touched'
by life
and shared a thought
- and its only monday...
damn.

Chris

Tags: Poetry writing

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Ernie had words to pass that need be heard... and I listened.

--------- Bulletin Posting ----------------

Ernie wrote:

I know you're nice people. I believe it. But I just can't look at another semi-naked peace angel. Nor a kind and gentle verse of love. Stop it. I know you're not that cute. NOBODY is that cute. I believe love is the answer. I do. But no more. Please. Say something. Just fucking... SAY something.

Tags: Poetry Writing Political Comment

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