Friday, September 27, 2013

Feel Good Friday: Take 5 Poems to Bed With You This Weekend

Nothing says Friday like high school poetry. And nothing says high school poetry like unrequited love, dripping sentimentalism, flowery stanzas, and more lovesick metaphors than you can shake a stick at.

Light some candles, turn on some jazz, and hope that the one you love still wants to get busy with you after reading him/her these poems.

Jazz Soundtrack: Take Five

The Dave Brubeck Quartet’s “Take Five” is jazz ecstasy. There is something so mysterious and sexy about this track. It teases you right up to the moment it ends and leaves you desiring so much more.

Rare that you can find a tune that works for seducing someone and making sweet, sweet love to them.

The Detritus of Love
The heart of your amiable existence
has abandoned my own ruptured core,
slipping into that obscure dead of nightfall.

No longer can you discern passion.
No longer can you contemplate the marvel of eternity.
No longer can your eyes of chocolate behold my affliction.

You are lost to me,
lost as the reveries of tales grown tall,
spent with a trusty shovel and flowing cape.

…and you forsake me.
As a criminal, a robber, a thief of nothing matters.
A victim am I of the slamming door, rusting off its red hinges.

I am left,
laying upon the grainy floor of my loveless forest,
dying like the wind swept leaves of autumn.

I am left,
trying to slip into that nightfall of obscurity,
to battle like a war starved Roman,
for the missing heart of your adrift soul.

In Dreams
As radiant sunshine melts into crystal starlight,
As merciless waves settle into tranquil seas,
My world is calmed by an angel’s heavenly breath,
if only in a dream.

As shadows become frightful enemies,
As demons plan their mischievous deeds,
One star of an angel’s bright blue eyes sends them away,
if only in a dream.

As tortured screams subdue to exquisite music,
As wind whistles their tune aloud,
I share a dance with an angel upon a moonbeam,
if only in a dream.

As cities plunge into slumber,
As hearts are set afire,
An angel takes a flight upon her golden wings,
if only in a dream.

Then, as inky darkness gives way to radiant sunlight,
As crystal starlight gives way to playful clouds,
An angel kisses me awake,
no longer in a dream.

Stay Here Tonight
Stay here tonight
among the silver stars
that glimmer gallantly
for your wondrous beauty.

Stay here tonight,
take away the barbarous hands of time
so that we may find forever.

Stay here tonight,
ordain relief into my rest
and establish my mind’s
endless exuberance.

Stay here tonight
amidst my thoughtless words
that rapidly roll off my tongue.

Stay here tonight
to find protection from
the oppressive outside
obstacles of your world.

Stay here tonight,
amid these gallant silver stars.
Take not away my living breath,
sweet baby, stay here tonight.

Should I Stay?
Should I stay and fight a battle I’m sure to lose,
to lie along the body filled trenches among
the fallen cannonballs that crushed dawn’s early light?

Am I just divulging into hollow love,
where the voice of reassuring reason
is lost in the groans of dying hope?

Do I care enough to place a bet
on this rigged game of cat and mouse,
where I could forever surrender my very soul and sanity?

Have I derailed my train of happy times
and plowed into a depthless gorge of forgotten troubles
that have yet to put me in my place?

Can I now lean on the crumbling walls of indifference,
which my punctured essence has been slammed into
again and again with no signs of mercy?

Should I stay and save you from drowning in tears,
and lead our hearts back into the good graces of the sands of time,
which sift through the cracking crystal glass?

I ask you sweet darling, should I stay?

Something Heaven
She kisses asleep the last blinks of sunlight,
ready now to be relieved of lonely hours
and retreat into the warmth of her secret paradise.

She lies contently on her bed of daises,
unaware of a million uncaught glances
and blind to my heart’s silent declarations.

She smiles as she begins to dream out loud,
bringing the light back in to a pain distant past
and forces the dark eyes out of the shadows.

She’s not afraid of putting her heart on the line here,
learning to fly again on her angelic wings
and journeying back to a sweet new beginning.

I just hope I don’t blink and send her back to dreams;
I’ll just steal a kiss from her perfect tender lips
and reveal the love buried deep within my modest spirit.

Fall in Mine
She’s gliding down the highway,
stepping on that broken line.
She wanted to show heaven,
it was not yet her time.
She stopped and came upon a man,
who hadn’t yet been born.
She couldn’t see behind the scars the face that had been torn.
She cried 1,000 tears upon his eyes,
 begging him to see.
It was then I lost the heart,
 to say that man was me.

I watched her fly away, defeated,
and I got back in my car.
I had loved her long ago,
and have not strayed that far.
The engine hummed loud and low
and I left the road behind.
I sent a prayer up to her,
so not to be unkind.

She loved him enough to ignore and stay,
and I’m giving all not to go away.
My soul’s being driven,
but destiny’s disguised.
The truth used to be so young and deep,
but I’m finding comfort in this little sleep.
She never falls outside her line,
and never makes a sound.
But I know if she ever does come down,
baby doll can always fall in mine.

I stopped by to have a bite,
at the same routine café.
Rhonda was a friend of mine
that let me have my own way.
I couldn’t quite remember
just how to say good night,
So I closed tight the blinds
and forced away the light.

The morning brought the stars
and I headed right back out.
I caught myself wondering what this sin is all about.
The radio talked softly,
but the words weren’t so mild.
They kept bringing up tomorrow
and murdering my child.

Where have all the world’s angels gone,
it’s what’s got me singing this song.
People have given up on good loving,
and think in terms of army shelling.
God's to busy designing devil costumes,
to stop us from rebelling.
But when heaven falls out empty
and hell becomes the time,
We’ll all need a place to keep ourselves,
so baby, we can all keep in mine.

I pulled off that gravel road
because sleep was soon to hit.
The marching bells of comet toils
kept my trailer cool and lit.
I had a dream explode in my head,
one that kept coming back.
It had a good and tenderness,
some perfect it did not lack.

The weather held out for one day
and the church was stainless white.
That dress gleamed off her,
she sure was a sight.
She sailed up that long aisle
the angels flied in free.
It was then my heart turned it off
to hide it wasn’t me.

She loved him enough to ignore and stay,
and I’m giving all not to go away.
My soul’s being driven,
but destiny’s disguised.
The truth used to be so young and deep,
but I’m finding comfort in this little sleep.
She never falls outside her line,
and never makes a sound.
But I know if she ever does come down,
baby doll can always fall in mine. 

When you’re done snapping your fingers, check out:

Thursday, September 26, 2013

From the Archives: The Tree, A Christmas to Remember, Lost in the Woods

My girlfriend has this reaction after reading the following examples from my personal archives: “Whoa, Ford, this is deep stuff. How old were you?” 

I had a tendency to be a bit overdramatic when I was younger. I will now wait for the snickering from my family to die down. This may take awhile.

Okay, I’m back from accepting the Biggest Understatement of 2013 Award. As a young writer, I explored themes that I didn’t understand thanks to spending a significant amount of time with my older cousins Judy and Caryn (it didn’t help that we watched a lot of Days of Our Lives during the summer and there was always a V.C. Andrews novel lying around). My early writing is chock full of hostage situations, long-lost relatives finding their way home, abductions, rape victims searching for their attackers, and lives falling apart in myriad other ways. Needless to say, had I shown many of these stories to an authority figure, I would have been sent to a team of psychiatrists.

However, these three are harmless and down right inspirational. Allow me a few more comments before you start reading. When someone died in something I wrote as a kid, they did so without fanfare. There was a lot of “they died” and “he/she died.” No mercy or remorse, just the facts. Also, I was just starting to hone my ability to write dialogue, so what you’ll read below has more wooden dialogue than an hour-long CBS drama. Finally, how much do you want to bet that Ben in the third piece would have been arrested five seconds after helping those kids home?

The Tree

A happy tree in Ithaca, N.Y.
A tree sprout came in the early spring.

It was nearly 1 inch. A boy came along and watered it. He and the tree were best friends.

When the tree was older, raccoons came to live in it. Birds made their nests on its leafy branches. The boy came every day to eat its lush apples.

During the winter, the tree would get cold and lonely. The birds would fly south for the winter and the raccoons would burrow somewhere else for the long winter.

When spring came, the tree’s leaves would start to grow again. The boy would play on a tire swing on its aging branches.

But one day, the tree got so old that it died. The boy, raccoons, and the birds were all heartbroken, but in their hearts, the tree lived on.

The End. 

A Christmas to Remember

How Christmas should look.

Christmas is almost here.

Marty was decorating Kristen and Katie’s dorm. The two girls walked in with the tree.

“Oh, what a beautiful tree,” Marty said.

“We got it for half-price,” Katie said. Kristen went to get the bulbs out of the closet.

“Where do you want the tree?” Marty asked.

“Before we get the tree set up, I need to talk to you,” Kristen said.

“Sure,” He replied. They walked into the kitchen.

“Marty, I just found out Katie is our long lost sister,” Kristen said.

“Oh my word,” Marty replied (editorial note: please Marty, you’re getting too emotional, I can’t take it).

“I have an idea,” Kristen said. “Let’s arrange a little Christmas party and tell Katie as a Christmas present.”

“Okay, now can we set up the tree?” Marty asked (editorial note: Marty is an insensitive dick).

They walked back to the living room. It was night by the time they finished decorating. The next day, Marty took everyone to breakfast.

“What do we do on Christmas Eve?” Katie asked.

“Let’s have a party,” Kristen said.

So after breakfast, they started getting ready for the party. Marty called people they knew. Kristen cleaned the house.

Finally, the day of the party came. After presents were opened, Marty finally said something.

“Kristen and I found out that Katie is our sister,” He said.

Hugs were given out and everyone was happy.

Merry Christmas.

Lost in the Woods

Taken at Macedonia State Park in Kent, Conn.
I woke up from a long sleep.

I looked out my window.

“Jane, do you want to go for a walk in the woods?” I asked.

“Sure,” she said.

We got on our jackets. Jane and I started down the path. We saw a deer.

“Don’t say anything,” She said.

We went toward the deer. The deer let us go up and pet him. I saw a little fox chasing a white muskrat. Jane noticed a path deeper into the woods.

“I think it’s a shortcut to the lake,” Jane said excitedly.

We followed the path for an hour. Then we realized we were lost. We wandered around until we found a cave. The sky was getting dark.

“Are you whippersnappers lost?” A man asked.

We turned around. A man and his dog were sitting by a fire.

“Y-y-yes we are,” I said. I was a little scared.

“I will tell you a story,” He said. His dog barked. “Ten years ago, I set out on a hike. It was a beautiful day. Suddenly, it started to pour. I ran to this cave. A pack of hungry wolves was waiting inside. Then a dog came to my rescue. He battled those wolves off.

“It’s getting late, you two better get some sleep,” he said ending his story.

In the morning, I asked him his name. He told me it was Ben. In the afternoon, he led us home. We were very happy to be home safe and sound.

The End!