The Disregarded

Rusty Old Water Tower

For years I turned the faucet on
Most days, unthinkingly;
From where it was my water came
Was no concern to me

The silent servant in the sun
I passed by, unaware:
It’s product, life-sustaining, though
I saw not it was there

For ugliness and age beset
The lonely water tower;
I never cast a second glance
Until this very hour

But that’s the way of all my kind
It’s naught to celebrate —
We pass in silence those who help
When they don’t look
That great


 

(“The Disregarded” – 3-12-2015)

Where She Got Lost…

Where she got lost, she couldn’t say
She only knows, she’s there –
A thousand million miles away
From almost everywhere

Now, those who’ve never been its pawn –
Depression hasn’t scarred –
Think: rouse yourself, and just move on;
It shouldn’t be that hard

But like a hood over her head
She cannot see to walk;
Well-meaning friends, full-sighted, fed,
Aren’t really ones to talk

Although, she’s grateful that they’re there
Wherever that might be –
She’ll just keep going, breathing air
In hopeless
Expiry

The Sacred Strand

My thoughts are often on the sea,
Or where it meets the land;
A part of my knight-errantry
As o’er the globe I’ve spanned

In lavender and purple hues
Brave Helios has set;
Across, its slanting rays diffuse
Into a violet

The footsteps of a pilgrim there
Upon the holy coast;
As sea-songs scatter to the air
The amaranthine host

Then I sit down upon the sand
And face towards the sea:
A moment on the sacred strand
Of pure
Tranquility

Run The Dunes

The days.

The days that we would run the dunes
Until the sun sank low;
Those timeless, breathless afternoons
So free of care and woe

The nights beside the ocean as
The stars came out to shine;
No other spot in mem’ry has
A feel so anodyne

As just to know, now that your gone,
That we were e’er so blessed:
And that, we’ll run again, someday,
Sweet dunes
Where we’ll find
Rest

Lessons for Men #7(a)

So boys: our lesson for today
Is knowing what to do
When you know she has wants and needs
But tells you, “not with you”

It hurts. It’s like an open slap.
But one you have to take –
We can’t birth kids, so we’ve this one
Small sacrifice to make

And that’s to learn to walk away.
You might not think it’s fair:
But women don’t get what they want
All times and everywhere –

Nobody does: That’s how it goes.
We do the best we can;
Just walk away, your head held high
And learn to be
A man

walking dream

the morning shyly moves away
in waves of mist and cream;
and i move damp with spray and sand
into a walking dream

the dimly cast horizon sits
beyond the veil of sight;
where time stands loosely, hands by sides,
and day melds into night

your breath i hear, your touch i feel,
as light as feathered gauze;
the scent of ocean waves and kelp,
as hope – with its own laws

and so the mists of morningside
surround and pierce through me;
the walking dream of one who’s still
at one with
destiny