For Honor
Rock n' Roll Doggie VIP PASS
I know everyone starts a new thread for a new work, but it would be easier to keep all my stuff together in one thread, but if that's just not how you are supposed to do it here, then let me know, and I'll follow suite like everyone else.
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One of my big themes is isolation, so here are two that deal with that I wrote them last year..........
-----
Of Possibilities and Promises
She's looking again, from over there, spying like a cat
Across the room I can feel her,
The breif and subtle void of awareness and distraction, but should I return her gaze?
Her pretty face is one I do enjoy
Her motions and manners I do fancy and find full of intrigue
I wonder how she'd react, dare I turn my head?
So I do
And, fleeting but pure, instand but everlasting, our eyes meet
Subtleness in a crowd- but everything- to a couple of possibilities
So vivid, so strong, so high in concentration and focus
The setting allows for little else but this moment
But a moment so rare is a moment so sweet
Like a theft it passes, before either party can absorb the action.
And, defensively, our heads face foreward
And the mind turns a cauldron of hopes and desires, fears and joys
But I sigh
I return to reality, the room, the dry, serious tone of the lecture
From my concersation with Frost, about Snow and Promises, I contemplate the reasons
for my reluctant decline
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THE CROSSING
This place I never understood
Although by now I think I should
For my time, I've spent here most
From city street, to road, to wood
This town always a peculiar host
It's sort of odd, I not think
To search and seek, a common link
One that shows a solid tone
A true image to write in ink
For this place that I call home
Perhaps it's not this place, but me
That I cannot state, I cannot see
But even still, there is no flow
Of the things that strain to be
Of this town I am to know
People here are rather strange
I cannot place, I cannot name
The things that do disjoint them so
A mixed up notion, against the grain
Like too many seeds for one to sew
If nothing more, an intercept
Fork in the road, I would expect
For those here don't seem to know
What to do, what is next
Where to stay or where to go
Still I fear the trouble is I
Though of this town I don't know why
It seems to ride along a border
Like the clouds on sunlit sky
Floating, drifting, with no order
But this place is wholly good
I do pray, I wish I could
Find out more about its role
See the face that's cloaked by hood
Look through the eyes, into soul
Perhaps someday when I'm older
When mind is clear and winter colder
I'll recall days I used to know
Of good times, of actions bolder
Thoughts of how the crosswinds blow
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
more later
=--=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
One of my big themes is isolation, so here are two that deal with that I wrote them last year..........
-----
Of Possibilities and Promises
She's looking again, from over there, spying like a cat
Across the room I can feel her,
The breif and subtle void of awareness and distraction, but should I return her gaze?
Her pretty face is one I do enjoy
Her motions and manners I do fancy and find full of intrigue
I wonder how she'd react, dare I turn my head?
So I do
And, fleeting but pure, instand but everlasting, our eyes meet
Subtleness in a crowd- but everything- to a couple of possibilities
So vivid, so strong, so high in concentration and focus
The setting allows for little else but this moment
But a moment so rare is a moment so sweet
Like a theft it passes, before either party can absorb the action.
And, defensively, our heads face foreward
And the mind turns a cauldron of hopes and desires, fears and joys
But I sigh
I return to reality, the room, the dry, serious tone of the lecture
From my concersation with Frost, about Snow and Promises, I contemplate the reasons
for my reluctant decline
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
THE CROSSING
This place I never understood
Although by now I think I should
For my time, I've spent here most
From city street, to road, to wood
This town always a peculiar host
It's sort of odd, I not think
To search and seek, a common link
One that shows a solid tone
A true image to write in ink
For this place that I call home
Perhaps it's not this place, but me
That I cannot state, I cannot see
But even still, there is no flow
Of the things that strain to be
Of this town I am to know
People here are rather strange
I cannot place, I cannot name
The things that do disjoint them so
A mixed up notion, against the grain
Like too many seeds for one to sew
If nothing more, an intercept
Fork in the road, I would expect
For those here don't seem to know
What to do, what is next
Where to stay or where to go
Still I fear the trouble is I
Though of this town I don't know why
It seems to ride along a border
Like the clouds on sunlit sky
Floating, drifting, with no order
But this place is wholly good
I do pray, I wish I could
Find out more about its role
See the face that's cloaked by hood
Look through the eyes, into soul
Perhaps someday when I'm older
When mind is clear and winter colder
I'll recall days I used to know
Of good times, of actions bolder
Thoughts of how the crosswinds blow
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
more later
)
