Wednesday, July 28, 2010

flirting with the barmaid

(true-ish story from about 10 years ago. posted for a friend)

eyes so disarmingly bright i am compelled

no commanded

to meet and hold them
locked together for as long as we have in these brief interludes

snatches of conversation
conspiratorial gestures
acknowledgment of existence from across the room

do you notice how i watch you
collecting pieces of you to take with me when i leave
capturing your smile in my mind imagining later that it is more than it was

wishing that
the fingers that unselfconsciously run themselves through your hair
the arms you fold across you, holding you
the tongue that plays inside your mouth
the teeth that bite gently, playfully, on your lower lip
as we steal these brief moments between drinks

may one day be mine

knowing as i leave this place where we meet all too regularly
that i must feel myself content with these friendly greetings
comfortable platonic gestures
these far too fleeting stolen moments of familiarity


(another old DanPoets comp, where Ted set us the line "an angel black as soot")

Let’s talk, good folk, of war today
A war as old as sin
A war whose borders blur so much
Who knows where they begin

It all began so long ago
With plan ineffable
When one was cast for thinking that
His lord was fallible

Do they do right, who revile he
They call adversary
When only crime committed was
To be but contrary

And hells of fire and brimstone are
But tales told from above
And why so many children dead
In the name of His love

Threatened are we to act for good
With afterlife of hell
But foetid stench of ill deeds done
Comes from above as well

The story skewed by both sides to
Control what we all see
For both dependant are they on
Our human frailty

The powers that control each of
The camps from which they fight
One thing in common do they have
Both sides do claim their right

To do with our lives as they please
One just like another
The only goal at end of day
Win against the other

Priorities by them are set
Each judge their win, their loss
Reasons to fight are not our own
We but the fighting dross

We all of us but numbers scored
Death but a tally kept
Knowing the truth, his final day
No wonder Jesus wept

Can you be sure which to believe
Decide who’s good, who bad
The arguments for either side
Could drive a sane man mad

But if decision uninformed
Is made you may well find
The state of your immortal soul
Shall leave you in a bind

Can you this day, this time, be sure
Wherein your trust to put
A demon white as driven snow
An angel black as soot

Sunday, July 25, 2010

trout fishing

bait is set
hook deep
dropped into water
now wait

first tug
interest on the line
balance the to and fro
let it play
draw the bait in

gentle resistance
draw it to you with
its own motivation
resist urge to pull
too hard

line is drawn deep
feel acceptance of lure
resist a bit more
urge it to take it

eagerness a hindrance
try too hard
pull too quick
bait is dropped

beautiful eyes leave dance floor
not seen again

Tuesday, July 20, 2010

outside my front door

on gnarled crooked
old-man-fingered branches
eucalypt leaves hang

long tapered strokes
of artist's brush

gray watercolour
pushing them up
to reach the sky