Futurepast

 

“Warp Speed” by Thomas Woolworth

 
if I could fly faster than time
beyond reach of tomorrows
I might just recover my yesterdays
live them again with more grace
recast my old age with some dignity
passion and pride once so fierce
given over to patience and modesty

faster than time is a speed that needs
magic momentum of mind
special powers of dreamscape
creating remarkable visions
behind sleeping eyes from the
yearnings of penitent conscience
to make the impossible possible

Music of Scars

“Scarred” by Leisha Lopez

 

your voice is like whiskey
poured through gravel
and hardship
it teaches us something
that song without stones
of an age can’t deliver

your music of scars
moves on chords
built from pain
long suffering sounds
we’d give our last heartbeat
to sing even once

your implausible poise
plays a plaintive arpeggio
climbing the sequence
of notes that express
the best senses of
wounded humanity

 

 

(originally posted October 2013)

Hell to Pay

 

“Fire Within” by Jonas Girard

 

neuropathy runs through

cleft ribs of the cage

costal cartilage ossified

splinters of sternum

disease-riddled meal

for bacterial microbes

a thorax that burns

without flame without light

this perpetual pyre

a sentence of torment

denying the psyche its peace

keeping body from sleep

the mind from its thought

and the soul from its prayer

so much hell to pay

fighting to hold onto sanity

rescue some semblance

of dignity sine qua non

of a settled identity

healthy enough to

withstand the invisible fire

Erratics

Granite Glacial Erratics at Home on a Farm – photo by Jack McConnell

they walked a long way to find sunshine

escaping from frigid hard whiteness

for warm soft embrace of the greensward

old souls of stone who remember creation

immigrants holding their alien dignity

standing their ground against xenophobe

cries of uncomfortable winds with their

freehold convictions of personal liberty

handsome with self-possessed strength

pleased to anchor an everlast change to

traditional notions of peaceful community

Mud Room

 

“Pair of Worn Shoes” by Vincent Van Gogh

 

 

a place to get shed
of an unclean world
drop the boots
that have slogged
through iniquity
strip the slicker
still dripping with
brazen deceit
peel the gloves
bloodied black
from fending off
malice and mayhem

a vestibule chapel
a cleansing place
meant for a private
few moments to
regather dignity
ready to reenter
unspoiled spaces
of family and faith
and fraternity
home to the hearth
mighty weary but
clean once again

 

 

From my book Human Waters

Patches

 

 

“Yellow and Blue” by Alma Thomas

 

 

mama’s handiwork
never embarrassed
his boyhood
the lads could be cruel
making fun of his
hand-me-downs
pointing and sneering
the schoolyard a crucible
molding his pride
annealing his spine

here he learned
how to fight
held his own against
even the best of them
knowing what they
never needed to know
that his papa
exemplar of dignified man
he wore mama’s fine
lovingly sewn patches too

 

 

From my book Onionskin

Seriously

“Anger”
Painting by Ingrid Morgen
From schaapcoaching.eu

when the hell did the world
become so inhospitable
what the fuck could it possibly
cost to be kind
show compassion
pay out some respect
give a shit about somebody
something or someone
who suffers beyond one’s own
self-centered shadow

where is civil behavior
toward loyal opposition
those teachable gestures
conveying polite understanding
of contrary viewpoints
what killed off the
empathic impulse
to tender regard of misfortune
who the fuck let loose
the dogs of derision and scorn

I am so God damned tired
of conflict reduced
to a mud-level meanness
a pissed-off cold cruelty
in place of plain decency
epithets hurled where
there used to be discourse
we’ve entered an age
when ad hominem vomit
is now de rigueur

not for me do I bristle and
seethe I’m retired from most
of life’s sparring arenas
but I have a passel of
grandchildren reared
to embrace reverent ethics
of honor and dignity
oh how I pray they were
not ill-prepared for
this vicious new world

(dear reader – excuse my language – it’s not at all my habit – I just couldn’t help myself)

Rust

“Old Rusted Car”
Photo by Duane Angles
From fineartamerica.com

once mighty

ostensibly durable

failing to stand

against time

against germinant

seeds of destruction

an impetus inborn

to self-mutilation

surrender to ticks

of atomic clocks

yielding covalent

corrosion in friable

blooms of uniquely

unusual beauty

eccentric in death

bearing dignity

under red ravage

of oxides a haunting

assertion that here

once ago was one

handsomely elegant

sleek lustrous life

Caporegime

“Fat Mafia Boss”
Computer image by DEAN
From 3drockstar.com

kiss the king of the hill
on his pinky ring pride
beware switchblade temper
don’t stare at the scars
on his fat-bellied mind
gold-chained neighborhood
strongman embarrasses
me and my dignified ancestry
filthy rich peasant among
we impoverished heirs
of nobility renaissance
runs in our civilized blood
while his arrogant claims to
our culture pretensions to
ancient earned honor leave
bitter resentment to burble
the bile of integrity honesty
sickening hardworking men
he would swat without
batting a murderous eye

Old Wood

“Old Wooden Window”
Photo art by 10Ft
From deviantart.com

old wood settles me
shares its story of time
told by fingers who
crafted warm histories
creased by fine grain
pieced with joinery
passed down through
secret-wrought skills
from medieval guilds

old wood settles me
gives me respite from
the metal the plastic
the chemical compost
of noxious modernity
smooth honeyed edges
console a displaced
sense of era with
antique aesthetics

old wood settles me
fills up with ambient
comfort my eyes
gone distressed by cold
landscapes of artifact
ugliness feigning to
decorate life within
sight within reach
without owning a soul

old wood settles me
touches its treasures
of gold to the holds
of my galleon mind
draughting deeply in
currents of maritime
memory wars of
emotions laid quiet
in pacified interlude

old wood settles me
teaches its lessons
each mar and gouge
every splinter and split
reminiscent of wounds
to my heart to my skin
wounds that qualify me
and old wood for a
dignified elderly life