Tag: Terza Rima

Lost, In The City

On By Beleaguered ServantIn Original Poems1 Comment 
The arms that hold her tend to want to trap her: 
Perhaps misguided, understanding not 
The gift that's more than presence, or the wrapper. 

The city streams, in days and nights grown hot 
And she seeks something somewhere someone else; 
For what she needs is more than what she's got. 

Like ice cream on the pavement that soon melts, 
The hours dropped become the moments lost 
And scrapes turn into boils, scars and welts. 

Like traffic interchanges, hearts get crossed: 
And soon, there is no satellite, no mapper 
That could locate her, or her dreams, for cost. 

What used to energize her, now will sap her; 
For arms that cherish her, can only 

Trap her

Vestigial

On By Beleaguered ServantIn Original PoemsLeave a comment 
When days are disappointment-full and grief
Flows by you like a river, and the sun
Shines down upon the vestige of belief,

And you feel like you are the only one,
The sole proprietor of all this guilt,
Then put all that away, and have be done.

For this is not a town which you have built,
And these are not your smokestacks, nor your bricks:
You are a patch upon this crazy quilt.

Connection's not a label to affix,
It is a thing to strive for, one-to-one,
The love and kindness no news contradicts.

So give not your regard to noise, that thief,
And keep more than a vestige of belief.

Love, Insistent

On By Beleaguered ServantIn Original PoemsLeave a comment 
Love, insistent on its course,
Gathers birds, and clouds, and waves,
With its gentle kind of force.

This is just how love behaves:
Whispered songs across the the sound,
Words and music each heart craves.

Can it all our fears confound?
Yes, it does, and will, when we
Look inside, and not around

Clearing space, so we can see
Sunset gathering of power:
How that happens, gradually.

Love, that brings to life the hour,
Is a constant, flowing, force:
Sun and water, helping each soul

Flower

Fugacious Claims (1)

On By Beleaguered ServantIn Original Poems1 Comment 
 I chanced upon a street 
 As quiet as the snow 
 While I watched time escheat 

 To where all moments go 
 The silence and the gloom 
 We've lately come to know 

 Within each house and room 
 Our struggles to keep hale 
(Or so I would assume) 

 But now another tale 
 Is sung upon these ways 
 A gray Dorian scale 

 A crystallized malaise 
 A melody a beat 
 Before the sun's first rays

The Model Life (4)

On By Beleaguered ServantIn Original PoemsLeave a comment 
 I don't deny I love the way you look
 And though it's said to be but shallow praise
 Just one encounter was all that it took.

 The time has passed, now: all the years, the days,
 And still I love to see you being you,
 With all your many attitudes, and ways.

 For what's most beautiful is what is true:
 Not posing, but existing, as you are,
 And how engrossed you are in what you do.

 We have been through a lot, and we've come far:
 You're still my day's bright sun, and night's best star.

The Window of An Age

On By Beleaguered ServantIn Original Poems4 Comments

The seal upon the window of an age:
Like lights that glimmer, loosely linked in lines,
The purple calm upon the yellow rage.

Though sighted, still the best we see’s through blinds:
A city skyline and a moldboard plow —
Is that the view that this, our time, defines?

Perspectives, formed by what we will allow
To pass the panes of this, our entryway,
Whose bias we will see, but disavow.

A tension born of cant and cabernet,
That drips along the line of discontent
Where workaround becomes the workaday.

The harmony of all that gets misspent
Upon tomorrows lost in wreck and rage —
Before the time to steel, and reinvent

The seal upon the window of an age…

The Emerald Sea

On By Beleaguered ServantIn Original Poems3 Comments

He walked out on the blowing sands,
And gazed across the emerald sea,
Forgetting all his other plans.

He walked along in ecstasy,
And all his thoughts were with her full.
He thought it all an augury.

From what might come of his heart’s pull,
He did not know, but hoped for much:
A touching pure, and beautiful.

But oft, illusion’s made of such;
He did not know her heart at all:
Buoyed as he was, with phantom touch.

As witness to her siren call
The sea, the sands, and all his thought
Were frames around his lover’s fall

But though much damage there was wrought
At least, these precious moments bought

 

(“The Emerald Sea” – 7-3-2015)

Another Reason

On By Beleaguered ServantIn Original PoemsLeave a comment

There’s much we’re given that we cast aside.
The process: fitting in or standing out —
And yet, heredity is hard to hide:
Its workings leave bystanders little doubt

As to where we might come from. After all,
Although our own uniqueness we might tout,
Genetic code across us like a scrawl
Is penned. Then add to that the same environ,

And few things but a total overhaul
Can change us: family figures, wrought in iron.
Those differences that once seemed deep and wide,
Are blurred, be we all buffalo or lion,

The tether of our sameness keeps us tied,
Another reason when we left, we lied

Written By the Atlantic

On By Beleaguered ServantIn Original PoemsLeave a comment

Sitting here beside the ocean
Penning thoughts as they occur;
Sun and waves in constant motion.

With the drink that I prefer;
Boats, slow moving, in the distance,
Captain, mate, and passenger

Of my fancy’s churning pistons,
Turning out another piece;
Egrets, herons as assistants.

Written by the calming seas:
Yet, I know, by when you read this,
Mem’ries of this winter breeze

Will have gone. What will succeed this,
I don’t know, but I’ll be home then.
But for now, I’m glad: I need this.

Ocean light is no ill-omen:
I’m so grateful to be here,
That my wife and I
Are here