Our Town Hall – Built 1767
sylvan country lanes
tuck tranquil vignettes into
yesteryear’s pockets
Our Town Hall – Built 1767
(originally posted April 2013)
Travel
All posts tagged Travel
“An Evening at Moulin Rouge” by EMONA Art
I may be alone
red faux windmill fame
does nothing for me
does not titillate
thrill or excite me
except to arouse
my sorrow and shame
seedy surfaces
soil white shadows
of Sacré Cœur domes
hucksters hawk
after hypocrites
trolling iniquity
worn weary girls
shiver naked in heels
dancing decadent duty
in windows on loan to
itinerant pimps
tawdry clubs cloyed
with burned Galousies
and watery whiskey
exhale pungent perfumes
that cheapen the night
what dirges these
Belle Époque
cobbles and curbs
could re-sing of their
cultural wreckage
ideals of enlightenment
ruined, unwrought
by the raunchy and rancid
and oh so sad
deep carnal foibles of
weak-minded men
(originally posted April 2013)
“Balloon Skies” by Emily Louise Heard
lift away from the day
rise up out of the world
upon eagle-path thermals
blue currents embraced
by persistent north wind
benign altitudes moving
to undulant timelessness
witness to histories flawed
in their passage below
the receding green ground
dissolves into itself
the eyes fill the brain
with impressions of
pastoral landscapes
ill-lit panoramas of
primitive verdant geometry
drawn by rude hands
human husbands of nature
whose imprints trace acres
between fixed horizons
their cardinal edges delimit
the mortal existence of
men with two hearts
comorbid of conduct
through war or through peace
mornings immanent laid
along linear travel of time
bring their daily surprise
never known to beforehand
which scene will prevail
on each dawning new day
whether conflict and crisis
will bloody the earth or
desist and diminish to lurk
behind vanishing points
leaving license and lease
for tranquility come to brief
moment of burgeon beneath
soft staccato expulsions
and wanderlust whoosh
of the voyager’s flame
“Lobster Fishermen” by Terrick Williams
rocky broaching shoals
guard ever-cold currents
whose clean teeming depths
engage stoic lobsterman
hardened by centuries
toiling, cohabiting
selfsame severe
marine ecosystems
where dwell their well-shelled
valanginian quarry
(originally posted May 2013)
“Booksellers Along the Seine” by Edouard Leon Cortes
(The opening lines appeared in my earlier poem “Nosegays.” But they stuck in my mind and so I give them a fuller story here.)
cracked-leather mustiness
seeps from dry bindings
I rescued from tumbling
dust covered stacks
crowding bookseller stalls
hung from medieval quays
overlooking the Seine
from Rive Gauche where
sweet sleep is no proper
companion of night when
young poets old painters
and passionate lovers
perform their best work
in fin de siècle garrets
whose earthiness settles
in seams of stale smoke
revolution still sweats
in the mist stealing
over dry friable sills
caught in cracks of
dead candlewax clumps
lifeless flowers in
hammered tin vases
smell moldy beside
acrid turpentine cups
oily palettes of pigments
intended to breathe
life back into the colorless
stiffened thin stems
mean decades of meals
made of river fish
sautéed in garlic and wine
sour linens that hide
under beds with glazed
chamber pots masked by
dried sprigs of herbs
tacked onto footboards
journals of love stories
reeking with loss that
inspired sad scores of
unfinished novellas
discarded librettos
but poetry oh how much
poetry hangs in the
vapors of lampblack
from India inkpots and
long since dulled quills
that excite to a flare
nostrils savoring all
of the human condition
that tainted these attics
where once my new
purchased old books
lived their well-used
existence collecting
the heady aromas of life
(originally posted January 2014)
Lake Como Villa – Image From hdwallpapers.com
confluent crystal blue rivers
emerge from pristine
glades of pre-alpine heights
infilling deep tracks of a
glacial retreat that left time
the slow usher of ambient
Mediterranean climate
clear water the purest and
plainest of elements
placidly courses beyond
thirsty reach of the peasantry
pooling itself in elongated
sunlit patrician geography
cypress aristocrats
gathered in groves
overseeing the lake
that gave beckon to caesars
impressed the nobility
down through the centuries
castles and villas serenely
seducing celebrity
into their present day cantons
chic outposts of luxury
fixing the daydreams of
those held by circumstance
lesser with fortune
“Florida Keys 2” by Kenneth John
sandy islets in aquamarine
curling west by southwest
curving under the sun
stitch the gulf to the ocean
with salty sweet laziness
needing no clock but the sky
to see time in its easy progression
from sunrise to sunset
ablaze with the colors of leisure
seductively free of pretensions
and pressures a cultural crucible
melting away stress and urgency
gifts of conquistadors calmed
by the balm of these breezes
and lulled by the metronome lap
of this surf to retire their armor
to slow down their heartbeats
and take up the barefoot pursuit
of an utterly tranquil tradition
“The Spanish Steps, Rome” by Robert Finale
lovers and strangers
come searching
for romance
among sweeping
Bourbon pretensions
and trite papal patronage
scaling the Quirinal
joining two cultures
the sacred and secular
broad fanning spans
of a soft-handed
stonemason’s edifice
lovers and strangers
aspire to meet here
arranging their dreams
upon artistic shadows
composed by both
Shelley and Keats
with the same blooming
lyrical longings
implanting their hearts
love and hope
interchangeable wanting
for human connection
“Porto d’Ischia” – Artist Unknown – From pinterest.com
outpost of Aragon
pirates and princes
prevailed among
graben and horst
heirs to the tribes
of a volcanic race
perpetual summer
engulfed by blue
indigo waters of
haphazard history
settling itself in this
modern millennium
loath to abandon its
deep-rooted tangle
of cultures imbuing
its vigorous worship
of timeless antiquity
“Houses of Old San Juan” by Zaira Dzhaubaeva
colonial cobblestones
tropical centuries
echo through narrow
immaculate pathways
adorned with bright
colorful row-houses
highly preserved pastel
balconied buildings
evoking the genuine joy
warmly poured from
affectionate Latino hearts
a fortified city whose
relics of war were
converted to peace and
prosperity features of
martial utility turned
to the tourist and native
as places for picnics
for lovers to stroll
hand in hand in the
chaperone rays of an
ever hospitable sun
here is music for dancing
the moon to its slumber
cantinas where red wine
and rum start the heart
and suppress inhibitions
a place to revive weary
spirit indulge the desire
for rudiment paradise
island adjacent to island
proud placed in pristine
blue-green sentient sea
