Masks, Shel Silverstein

Hello.

I feel like saying hello. You've probably noticed some renovations around here. I'm always getting bored of the backgrounds and changing things up. It probably drives you crazy. Oh well, I like this theme. I think I'll stay with it:)

I'm not sure where this is going, so I'll do what I always do. I'll leave you with a poem:

irreplaceable
lost for words
I grasp your hand;
if I could speak
you'd understand
that what I'm here
searching for
is what I fear
you will ignor
'cause you can't know
the joy I get
to be with you
and be your friend
and plunge into
your chocolate eyes
swimming through
the butterfles
that carry all
my kindest words;
far away,
they're never heard.

don't be a fraid

don't be a fraid

be a bird!

take to the sky without a word

stretch your wings as you take flight

loose with all your lusty might

the secret song

that no one knows

but you and all that endless blue.

The hole not made for me.

My world is closing in on me
I'm crushed beneath its weight
I'm stuck
It's over
I can't escape
These walls which box me in
And pinch
And squeeze
Are forcing me
Already oddly shaped
Into a hole which will not fit
A hole not made for me.

The House

She’s old now, her crippled hands

Rest easy in her lap;

Now shut the eyes which twinkled bright

At every merry laugh.

As barren as the dusty walls

As old as chair and crib

The house where she was given birth

The house in which she lives.

The rocking chair she sits in now

Is where she used to nurse.

The tiny crib where she did lay

Her children, she used first.

Who am I?

I am the tiniest bomb, ticking 1200 beats 

before dropping the weight of a penny 

on some unsuspecting intruder

to my territory.

If you know the answer already, don't tell! Everyone else... I'm interested to see what you come up with. 

This. is. home.

A foreigner from warmer lands

Will laugh at us today

While they are huddled warm inside

We run outside to play

Frostbite nips my bright red nose

I snap another one

The frozen lake, the icy park

I call this having fun

I could begrudge the weather here

But I would miss so much

When living life we must enjoy

The cozy AND the harsh

Enjoying every dazzling sight

I’m taking all this in

I don’t care what the weather is

If I call this my home

The Night Has Passed

Awake the morning with my tears

Forgot why I was crying

Stumble, throw the shades apart

See! The sun is rising!

Remember something dark

…….and distant

A struggle in the night.

Evil laughter, faceless voice

A solitary fight.

Locked in mortal battle

My enemy and I

He swore the dark shall overcome

I held on to my hope.

As sunlight floods my bedroom

All this I recall

Paling before a golden sun

The night has passed away. 

No. 2

Awake at midnight

Feel the darkness around me

Creak, bang! the back gate

Farewell

Cold Fist in Mine

One Last Kiss

Farewell Old Man

We wished our grandfather farewell this weekend. He passed away Sunday. This picture was taken on one of our many trips together through the southwest. We were in Mount Zion National Park. That was the happiest moment we ever shared together.

Farewell, Old Man.

Sing To Me

The lovely Andre reminded me of this poem I should share with you all! I had totally forgotten about it....

Sing to me. Once again

I love to hear your voice

Rise gently through

The ceiling rafts

The richest evening noise.

I’ll love you for a moment

The next I’ll turn aside

To fancy this

Or wish on that

And leave my faithful guide.

But you won’t ever change

Your heart I’ve memorized

You wedded me

Befriended me

Unwanted and despised

Now I have come to trust you

I’ve given you my heart

Yet something dark

A secret thought

Is driving us apart.

If you are always faithful

And I am always wanting

Then how can we

So distant seem

Like two paths never crossing?

When I accepted you

I took your humble vow

But greater is

This struggle, for

I must accept me now.

With all of my shortcomings

And failure at perfection

I’ve loathed myself,

Unworthy of

Your unreserved attention.

I love the things that you love

And you have loved me true

So now must I

Kiss pride goodbye

And learn to love me too.

Sing to me, once again

Teach me to love myself

Make me look

Inside my soul

And value all its wealth.

The night grows deep around us

Your voice still rich and deep

You catch my head

Before it falls

And tuck me in to sleep.

No. 1

My quick report
Your gentle rebuke
Three wise men

You may have noticed this haiku in the comments section. I hope it puzzled and perplexed you. It's a riddle.

The question is, who's the third man? It begins with only two people. Myself and the one who comments on my blog post. Your comments test my work, checking for holes and weak spots. Through this process of commenting and refining my writing, I come up with an argument or statement that is founded on truth and tested for accuracy.

I think that a pretty good definition of wisdom. Founded on truth and tested for accuracy. So, where's the third wise man? The third wise man is whoever comes along later and reads that piece of wisdom, adopting it for himself.

Three wise men- the one who writes, the one of critiques, and the one who reads it later on.

Haiku Love

Oh, I've been wanting to write this one since I started my blog.

I love haiku. I. Love. It. 


The humorous, delicate, multi-layered Japanese art form tickles my literary fancy like nothing else ever has.

If you're like most average Americans, you probably find it awkward and unbalanced. That's the way I felt about it before I read the following article:

 http://www.ahapoetry.com/haiartjr.htm

My eyes were opened. I suddenly entered a whole new world of riddles and unlikely comparisons.

Haiku is a literary form. You need to get that in your head. If you are turned off by them, it's most likely because you aren't recognizing their format, which is everything to a haiku. A haiku is rather very strict. Yes, there is room for artistic interpretation, but for the most part they follow very specific patterns.

It's all about patterns. If you've never studied haiku patterns before it will be difficult for you to pick up on the context.

It's true- one can, and often does, spend four paragraphs discussion and interpreting something like:

      Long hard rain
      Hanging in the willows
      Tender new leaves.

(from   http://www.ahapoetry.com/haiartjr.htm)

Isn't that beautiful? That's a wonderful technique called contrast. That is easy stuff. It's gets harder with other forms like double entendre and leap linkage. But I won't go into those things yet.

What I would like to do is have more conversations about haiku using the above article as a reference, taking each technique one at a time and discussing them in detail. I'll try my hand out at haiku's of my own.

For now, I'll leave you with my all-time, favorite haiku:

      Moving into the sun
      The pony takes with him
      Some of the mountain

(http://www.ahapoetry.com/haiartjr.htm)

Beautiful, beautiful image.