Sunday, July 20, 2014

On the Wings of an Angel & No Hooks Today (& It's All Okay)

I have unwittingly prepared two pieces today...unwittingly is probably the wrong word...it just was not my intent, but one found me while composing the other.



from the corner to the brink of insanity to the shadows to angels @ the sidewalk cafe to the rafters // & Visits with Mr. Linky

I.  (Wed., 07/20/2011)
I stand here on the corner
gazing into the window
and I have to remind myself to breathe.
This is not one of my usual haunts;
Its atmosphere is meant for social types,
and well, that's not really me.
I can do this;
It's just the open sign gives me pause;
Its bright red glow is like a stop light
I so itch for it to turn amber
then green
II.  (Tues., 12/20/2011)
maybe it's time
to still the paranoia
in at least one world
before irrational thoughts
and hard delusions
skirt the edge of insanity
maybe it's time
to not push the envelope
in an online world
where social angst finds a home
III.  (Tues., 04/30/2013)
It's time to step out of the darkness;
dust off this cloak of shadows;
unfurl these dormant wings intent on flying.
IV.  (Tues., 05/28/2013)
My dear sweet angel, thank you for carrying my voice through the doors.
V.  (Tues., 05/28/2013)
So here I sit now at the sidewalk cafe
listening to the voices spill out the door &
tip my hat as they leave for the night.
VI.  (Wed., 03/05/2014)
...& I'm jonesing for a fix.
That's why I'm here
           to
                listen
as your words permeate the air
infusing images
               scents
               tastes
              desires
throughout the room
gathering in the rafters
where I can
                     draw them to me
                     fill my lungs
                     awaken my senses
                         &
                     smother the voices so I might

breathe...
                just
                        breathe
VII.
I've taken up residency here
at the sidewalk cafe
where words overflow from the neighbors
& pool at my feet
Mr. Linky stops by often; he always
seems to know where to find me.
he visits between performers
chats me up about those who
have come&gone and those
still remaining on the set list
when he's done, he pushes in his chair,
eyes my notebook & raises his brow;
an understanding passes between us
as he tips his hat and leaves.
I wait on his booming voice
to find my nerves settle.



Inspiration for this piece (and the one to follow):  Over at dVerse Poets Pub they have been celebrating three years.  As things wind down, the prompt is to write an ode to the pub.  There are some very nice tributes from the array of talented poets that often grace the pub stage.  I admit I found this quite hard (for reasons I can't quite bring myself to rehash) to compose such an ode.  But it gave me pause to reflect back on the journey I have taken from the moment the doors officially opened.  The first six parts of the above piece are from different pinnacle moments.  The sixth stanza an ode of sorts to the pub.  Well, that and the piece that follows...



Just Like the One the Shepherd Holds

Time & time again,
I fear the hook
dragging me
from the stage.

(part of my neuroses -
playing devil's advocate;

if only I'd take a moment to
listen to the guy on
my other shoulder.)

The reality is
                     a shepherd works
to bring his flock together;
nudges them
                    in the right direction
when they deviate from the path;
pulls them
                from the edge of cliff
as they teeter on the brink;

his hook is like a cast after a break,
signed from head to toe
with the encouragement & praise of
all those who gather around
the stage awaiting their own
turn @ the mic.



An aside:  Thank you to all of you, pubtenders and patrons, who have taken the time to scrawl across "the cast."


6 comments:

thecourseofourseasons.com said...

oh i like these both so much - particularly like 6- and 7 is just right for the Pub. And the shepherds hook - I like the transition from the fear to the supportive- nice turn at the mic :) K

manicddaily said...

I love the idea of different people teetering at the mic--and especially liked too the lines about the angel helping one to be heard through walls. Thanks. k.

Myrna R. said...

So sorry I'm stopping by so late. But I'm so glad I did. In your poems, you express many of my thoughts - which I couldn't write as eloquently as you have here. I connect with your writing as if you were speaking my words. Thanks so much.

Jeff said...

Both of these bring strong emotions--that wrestling with whether to join in or not really hits home for me. Beautifully written!

Mary said...

You know, I often wondered what Mr. Linky was really like. From your poem, I think I know.

Brian Miller said...

i am glad to have shared the journey with you the last several years...and that even in your social fears you can find a place...and be encouraged...and share....i am glad...that it has brought us all together....