Category: poetry

Wake Now

Right outside this lazy summer home
You ain’t got time to call your soul a critic no
Right outside the lazy gate of winter’s summer home
Wondering where the nut-thatch winters
Wings a mile long just carried the bird away

Wake up to find out that you are the eyes of the world
The heart has it’s beaches, it’s homeland and thoughts of it’s own
Wake now, discover that you are the song that the morning brings
But the heart has it’s seasons, it’s evenings and songs of it’s own

There comes a redeemer, and he slowly too fades away
And there follows his wagon behind him that’s loaded with clay
And the seeds that were silent all burst into bloom, and decay
And night comes so quiet, it’s close on the heels of the day

Sometimes we live no particular way but our own
And sometimes we visit your country and live in your home
Sometimes we ride on your horses, sometimes we walk alone
Sometimes the songs that we hear are just songs of our own


Wake now, discover that you are the song that the morning brings
But the heart has it’s seasons, it’s evenings and songs of it’s own

: Jerome J. Garcia / Robert C. HunterEyes of the World lyrics © Warner Chappell Music, Inc, Universal Music Publishing Group

In love, Be.

We’ve travelled a long road by near and by far

The longest road we traveled got us to where we are.

If I had known you before we had met

In that time of trouble and pain

Would we ever meet again?

Would we, together, have survived ?

The first time I saw you

A hard cold bitch

I could see it in your eyes you wouldn’t take no shit

I knew it Becuase you’d been living that life for so long

Staring in the eyes of the day

But refusing to awake from the night.

If no one ever told you, Your cries will never be enough.

Be

In love.

*

In my ‘77 Chrysler up upon that sea cliff

Overlooking the ocean, we were beginning to live

Listening to oldies on that lo-fi radio.

Hardly a word was spoken

We were

Together alone

Wondering only about our changing shores.

*

We may never know what life we may have lived

But here we are, we can get what we give

And we can live that life we’d been hearing from afar in that song

Through struggle and pain

We can live and live again.

Be

In love.

— C. 2015 CSP

Your at 10 and you need that extra push, where can you go?

Nowhere.

…but these goto 11.

Heart On A Sleeve

HEART ON A SLEEVE.

 

Put some iron on the wound.

The smell of blood will surely put you through

The pain from the stain that’s been festering in you.

 

Do you wonder which parts are true?

 

Melancholy smiles of the blackest blues

That play the heart strings a rapturous tune.

 

Or the simple pleasures that bring the crisis to bloom.

 

Or the way that you see others smiling and free

Come together and just be.

 

…the musings of a fool.

 

Roll away, roll away the dew.

This god-damned romance is just covering you

Just like the heartache when your lover comes unglued

Worked and jaded from the line you drew

 

Waiting

To come around.

 

 

Come around.

Wade to this side of the pool.

Come around

to the deep side of the fool.

 

Honestly, have you ever loved anyone deeper

That the one you loved before?

Have you never wanted more

Than to love the one that you adore?

 

Will there ever be a reprieve?

Wearing your heart on a sleeve.

 

Is there a false from a true?

Is there a me and a you?

 

These are the questions you surely go through.

Not to mention the pain

Once again –

 

Would you like a little salt on the wound?

Maybe a little deeper

Maybe some more room

To squirm and to thrash in the deepening ash

That fills the hole in your tormenting soul.

That spills onto everyone you know

Waiting to come around…

 

Just one flick of the tongue.

Makes you feel like you’re young again.

Just one finger in the hole.

It comes up stripped down to the bone.

Then you’re reminded of when you’re alone

Never minding who is there or how you’ve grown

Or how unselfishly they’ve invested all their energy

For you –

 

Only human is the musings of a fool.

 

One step forward two steps back.

Never quite knowing where your love is at.

Blindly reaching for a heart attack.

 

Honestly.

_____

2008/2019 Lance A. Kair

 

painted_heart_on_sleeve_by_narakafurin

Image courtesy of S Lynn Knight🎈 “heart on a sleeve”.x

The Philosopher.

The philosopher is like an arrow cutting through the air.

or rather –

 

A snake slicing along the surface of a river.

The truth calls the philosopher.

But until it is found, she is like a pebble thrown into the water.

The wakes echoing forth, back and away in all directions, her presence the ripple for the moment, the significance like the rain drop, fades away in dissipation of the wash, while her self sinks and dissolves.

           A transcendental nobility.

 

Yet before this and after, but never while,

The Truth is found, and the philosopher is pulled up the stream.

She does not sink, but swims, floats, slips, buoyant.

The shallow draft carries small value,

with purpose, with determination.

Effortless.

 

The truth calls. And called.

The opinions vary in the concentric interferences.

She is not distracted and never beached,

The swells and rapids only occasion her indecision and resolve.

The rocks interesting siestas.

The shore never beckons.

 

 

c.2017 Lance Allan Kair.