February 16, 2025
Days in the darkness
The shadow the fog
Wondering blindly
Stuck in that bog
In the muck, in the mire
With pain as my friend
I sloshed around blindly
With no sight of the end
Sleeping to wake
In the same endless nightmare
Cold and alone
The darkness does not fight fair
Looking up to find the light
I only see a reflection
It's then I slowly realize
That I am lost in depression
My scream is but lost
In the dark of that place
It closes around
In close to my face
It's hard to breath
I think I might die
The closer it gets
The more that I cry
Then a finger of light
Reaches out like a fire
The faintest of spark
Through me hope does inspire
I somehow then know
If I look at the light
It will lead me to home
In spite of this night
I don't see the way out
For I'm lost in the darkness
I struggle for direction
But up is my best guess
So a groove in be wall
I carve with my stone
The one with my name
Engraved and well known
So I crape and I claw
In the black of the wall
And the smoothness gives way
To a foothold install
And did it seem like
All night did this take
Still lost in the darkness
Did my hope I forsake
So I slept in the end
When no more I could bear
Give up for today
But don't ever despair
Awake there it was
But distant again
That light did I see
Giving hope to me then
So I dig and I dug
For many a night
Still captive in pain
Depressed without light
Finally a break
For a ledge did I reach
A path above ground
On the wall I had breeched
So round and around
I climbed in that spire
Always up and then up
With nowhere to retire
Wait then no wait
I passed that before
A sigh of despair
The same crack in the floor
It was a trick
Conspired in darkness
The type you can't find
Unless light you possess
So there I stared
Fraught with dismay
Wait. Light you possess?
Mind blown away
There in my hands
Was the stone of my heart
The one I had used
To dig out of the dark
But just there it glowed
A little blue flame
A light did I find
In the heart of my pain
Oh the joy could I see
For the first time in years
As I dropped to my knees
My eyes dripping with tears
So I gave up that day
When no more I could bear
Give up for today
But don't ever despair
When I awoke
There that spark now a fire
I knew in my heart
That I've got to climb higher
Then just as before
With the memory of muscle
I started to scrape
Another foothold with hustle
Some months from that night
I finally reached for the top
But dark as it was
I was afraid I might drop
And again in the dark
I slept on a ledge
Still alone still cold
Still depressed on the edge
Then of a sudden
The earth became bright
I almost fell back
For fear of the light
I stared at it long
As for years I'd not seen
The light of the son
Was so white and so clean
And yet there it was
The same as before
That spark in be darkness
The flame on the floor
Appeared then a man
All dressed up in white
Perhaps out of nowhere
Eyes adjusting to light
He said give it here
Let me see your progress
That stone in your hand
Yes the one you caress
He squinted a minute
As I handed to him
The rock of my heart
That lead me out from within
"Ha! This was mine
And I knew that it was.
For I gave it to you."
He said with a pause
"I sent it for you
Before your trip to the dark.
For I knew what you'd find
And your need for that spark."
"So it was you all along.
The hope, in my heart.
That kindled the flame."
I said with a start
"Yes and here's a new stone
With a name I've engraved
Known only to you
Who've persevered while enslaved."
"Oh, one last thing."
He said like he'd known
As I stood starring down
In awe of that stone
"Those were harder days
These are better days
May you forget where you've been."
"Those were useful days
These are stronger days
May now my light shine within."
So lost in the daylight
I started for home
For not too far from this place
Was the son on His thrown
Trudging along
Through miles of sage
In a baron old land
From an earlier age
A mysterious man
A rogue and a stranger
With a weathered old frame
Suggesting some danger
His mission was fixed
His quest was no blunder
He waded along
Through the brush that was under
The land was quite vast
For this was high country
Where out there in the open
A man should feel free
Except on a quest
With no choice in the matter
Where straight through his soul
Will it rip tear and tatter
For up in those hills
Very few have survived
The rough and the rugged
The domestically deprived
The stranger there sought
A significant treasure
As he tread in his boots
Over leagues beyond measure
For up in the wild
Out away from mankind
There roams a relic
You scarce else will find
With his mane in the wind
And his hoofs to the rock
A thunder a dust cloud
He's as swift as a hawk
This ancient old breed
Is as spry as a pony
A hardy old cut
Of the Great Jabalone
When this creature is caught
In the dust forms a devil
It's the fight of the earth
And will the rider dishevel
But out of the dust
Through the sage will he ride
Replacing his hat
With a deep sense of pride
The mysterious man
No longer a stranger
He has allied his foe
Dismissing the danger
With no longer a trudge
His objective complete
It's on to conquest
To possess and defeat
Where would you go?
Does your heart even know?
What would you speak?
Is it okay to sound weak?
What would you do?
Would your actions be true?
If your heart lead the way, would you follow?
What is a captain
Without an old beard
A sailor, a pirate
A man less revered
A hat may he have
With a sword and a pistol
A bottle of rum
In an old harbor crystal
But of most importance
In all his effects
Is a glorious display
Of willful neglect
Its not his boots
Or his coat overwear
Nothing is said
Of the length of his hair
It's all in the face
where he grows his respect
A captain's old beard
Is to serve and protect
It partly his courage
Again and again
But mostly his beard
That strikes fear into men
When cannon douth roar
But right past his face
With his foot on the rail
And his hand for a brace
He stands through assault
And waves without tear
The wind in his beard
And a grin in his whiskers
Take command of his ship
For that's what he does
A leader among men
And a captain because
When his anchor be hoisted
His sails have unfurled
And his rum has been drunk
At the edge of the world
He will find an adventure
He at last can embrace
With his foot on the rail
And his hair on his face
For the captain's old beard
Has become quite notorious
As a symbol of courage
For all men as glorious
As the legend grows
While the story lives on
Remember the captain
Whose beard was so long
Just a stow away
On a rum running ship
Discovered at sea
Unable to pay for his trip
So enslaved by the captain
He worked a year for his fee
In the cold and the wet
Of the Bendabresh Sea
Doing this and doing that
Bearly earning his book
A friend he did find
In the galley slave cook
Thus he slaved about
On that rum running ship
From this day to that
Lest he suffer the whip
From port to starboard
Both fore and aft
He scrubbed the deck
Of that wayward old craft
The captain who dressed
In a backward old swank
Was as washed up inside
As the bitter he drank
He would fly off the handle
At the slightest mistake
That our rum running slave
Might happen to make
For a year and three days
The boy earned his way
Till the captain at last
Did hand him his pay
You'd think he would run
If given the chance
Bolt for his freedom
If cleared of finance
But give it all up
He did in despare
For the slave in the galley
Who was treated unfair
Captured enslaved
Abused without reason
Abandoned neglected
But for only a season
Then came the day
That the galley slave met
Our boy and his hero
Who paid his life debt
The galley slave ran
Away from that place
With the light of new hope
Displayed on his face
And our slave of a boy
Still aboard that old craft
Chose the life of a slave
Though the crew found him daft
Be the captain amazed
For he knew what this meant
tWas a law laid down
Be it not broken or bent
It is stated and firm
That soul should be free
If a life for a life
Should be traded at sea
So the captian's expression
Changed the wind in his sail
And with a toothy old grin
found the boy's bail
Holding the parchment
Above the boy's head
In a ritual like motion
That document tWas shred
Once our slave was set free
The captain did say
Be gone with you lad
And my anchor I'll way
As the boy turned to run
He could barely set foot
With no where to run
He asked to stay put
The captain agreed
With a hardened old smile
For he had grown kind of fond
Of the boy for a while
So for another
Year and days three
Our boy sailed about
The Bendabresh Sea
His debt had been paid
He had no more fee
His life he had back
For now he was free
I once had a case of the old man finger
With a long white beard on his bald old ringer
He came out from my hand quite to my shock
Whilest was I working with a tube of that silicone caulk
Filling up holes and walls and cracks
He worked at his job eating all of them snacks
This doctor assessed that wild caulk slinger
Diagnosing at last twas The Old Man Finger
With less than a remedy the doc to proscribe
He suggested some soap to the patient in jibe
So when the slinger his work had finished
Washed off his caulk and his illness diminished
When washed was his beard and little old ringer
Twas the end of the case of the old man finger
The theater closes in the grayed out sun
When back to their home the children run
Out the back door into the alley
Into cobblestone streets the shopkeepers rally
Vacant remains the Theater Emporium
At night in the drizzle its appearance Gregorian
Behind all the masks and clothes on the racks
There in the dark a story unpacks
Behind wooden chest or under that box
Only rain could be heard hind ticking old clocks
There was but room between the clothes on the racks
For shoppers to browse and fill up their sacks
Over there in the corner was a miniature stage
At the end of the isles a symbol of courage
There enough room for just a few actors
Who dared a display against all the factors
During the day looking for a story
The shopkeeper wandered throughout inventory
But this was a night after store hours
Where from noise in the attic the braves heart cowers
Creaking and groaning like that of a trip
Through a ghost-ridden sea on a forbidden ship
With a pok-a-dot gown and three cornered hat
A pirate like clown chased a daemon black cat
If one were to walk up the stairs for a look
You’d find the director reading a book
You’d find above deck if you didn’t get caught
His mind all ablaze with the creepiest plot
Up there in the sails afloat in the rigging
Of curtains and props the captain a gigging
Could more worthless a crew have swung from the pulleys?
Were they actors or clowns these pirate like bullies?
And then on the stage a spotlight announced
An actress or victim whose role was denounced
With blood on her face and the accused in her arm
She walked toward the light to save her baby from harm
She stood there a mess apparently quite injured
Holding that baby who rested assured
His mother’s own blood was all in her hair
But from what disaster he slept unaware
The scene then unfolded yet once again
With thunder and blast from the ships old cannon
Then a clown trapezed up there from a rope
Then another, and another, she seemed to lose hope
These clowns now on stage with a robotic smile
Crept toward the woman with grimace and guile
She screamed with and energy yet unreleased
Frantic and desperate so afraid of these beasts
The clowns back stage were ever aware
Of just what was needed to produce despair
The gears of the play they continued to turn
Forcing this actress to perform in return
“This is her play, a magnificent show.â€
Said a clown with a smirk in jest of, “helloâ€
So you ponder the question in the back of your mind
Is she actress or victim or is that somehow combined?
Again your attention was turned to the stage
As the floating director tore out a page
Whether out of the play or out of her life
You sensed some significance as he withdrew his knife
A laugh from the clown still there by your side
Sent a shiver throughout, you might elsewhere have died
You glance to your right turned away from the stage
For fear of her death in this theater cage
You sigh in relief as the curtains are drawn
On that play in the darkness just before dawn
But your question remains what happened to that girl
the actress, the victim, the homicide pearl
You know as you turn away from the stage
The director aloft has not turned the last page
But it’s over tonight as you leave the auditorium
Found in the corner of that Theater Emporium
When the dust from the floor meets the door in your face
You turn into the rain as you leave from that place
And well before children are running the streets
You hope the event of this evening never repeats
There with a spoon hidden under the cupboard,
Was a creature of earth yet quite undiscovered,
His face was all round aglow in the dark,
With bumps and dents and an ugly birthmark,
The wood in his hand a bit rounded and beveled,
Was what he named spoon though broke and disheveled,
And almost a shiver with the thrill of excitement,
He awaited the hour of full blown delightment,
Would what this creature ate with his spoon,
You might mistake for a leftover prune,
But all ye patron ever beware,
If you eat such a thing you'll loose all your hair,
Your legs will both shrivel up into your waist,
Your arms much the same quite evenly spaced,
You'll waddle about with forearms abreast,
Thumbs pointed up straight out from your chest,
Then under the cupboard you'll crawl with a spoon,
To await for the chance to eat one such prune,
There what folklore your creature will make,
If the moral of this story you refuse to take
Hither twain the blast of pain that comes from a mistake
shall bear the shame of hidden blame when disaster overtakes.
Just a boy but a squire none the less
Young Oliver only wanted more
Could he find a girl or a princes
His quest be he searching for
Just a boy in a castle town yet
Young Oliver dreamed to go far
Adventure could he journey there
Or was it found in Gypsy’s Jar
A young man and a squire none the less
This Oliver still just wanted more
Who was he could he find himself
What was at his heart’s core
A Young man sent to battle, game of chess
This Oliver tests his heart at war
Would this win for him a princess
Or would this prove his failure
Now a knight when his master slain
Sir Oliver only fought for more
Hand of power heartless joy
How great a fight, his heart at war
How a knight, not what he dreamed it was
Sir Oliver search his past for things
An Orphan yes, what did it mean?
His father’s song his heart did sing
Just a quest but nothing less
Lost Oliver left what e’er he had
He travled lands to find himself
In vain he searched, his heart was sad
Just a quest but soul to find
Lost Oliver found his answer there
It wasn’t of maiden, not of princess
But t’was an item precious and rare
Just his heart but a treasure none the less
Old Oliver’s purpose and direction known
His searching now was over
He need no longer castle, no longer town
Just his heart, the rarest gem at last
Old Oliver then a peace had found
His heart could rest without princess
In there alas could freedom abound
There be the fisher
this be round two
he not in a rowboat
or dugout canoe
He sat on the bank
in the shade of a tree
mindless in thought
daydreaming and free
His rod had been set
his line had been cast
the fish he sought now
could reflect not his past
Our fisher there sat
weathered hat in his face
enjoying the moment
at a fisherman’s pace
Here comes a traveler
up on the road
down from the mountains
where she lived in the cold
But your fisher still resting
though not quite asleep
oblivious to the sound
of yon traveler’s feet
She walked with the grace
of a lion on the path
not hunting her prey
no vengeance she hath
With direction she prowls
by the strength of her limbs
her cat-like appearance
in the evening light dims
Never you mind
your fisher’s own fate
or worry your heart
for his hour seems late
The sun had but set
as the feline approaches
with hood on her head
and cloak on her shoulders
When of sudden a fish
he woke with a stir
the catch on his mind
still oblivious to her
Oh what a fish
with delight in his eye
‘twas a fight to its death
lest it give up and die
When then at last
our fisher had won
be it then evening
by setting of sun
And ‘twas to the village
all but a trek
so a fire he made
for the darkness to check
Then he cooked there his fish
aft his camp he did care
there under that tree
yet of her unaware
So she crept near the fire
with gleam in her mind
pleased with the fortune
she happened to find
There in the shadow
just out of the glow
her enchantment compelled her
to mark your fisher as foe
When he finished his dinner
and made ready to sleep
he lay next to the fire
in comfortable heap
Slight did she make
as she began to creep
this alarmed our poor fisher
for he not quite asleep
The fisher’d not move
save chance he a flight
for what creature did move
in the middle of that night?
Out in the wild
away from his village
a beast may attack
then plunder and pillage
But then what was this
what intrigue entailed
be it there in the firelight
he a maiden beheld
She in a cloak
and he pretending to sleep
awaiting opportunity
planning his leap
She scavenged his leftover
fish by the fire
and she starred at the flame
as she began to conspire
But before she derived
her plan of attack
he leaped from his bed
and jumped on her back
Why are you here
why in my camp
the fisher did question
the maiden found scamp
Alas and then
her enchantment took over
and she’d not else the claim
I am but a rover
Your fisher was brave
and all but a bully
so a prisoner he made
without leverage or pulley
Once in the morning
it safe be to travel
he set out with maiden
to her mystery unravel
There be the fisher
one whale hawking man
he’d sail through a storm
aught he traver by land
He’ll bend his hook
let the sea cast his line
The whale of all whales
he determined to find
v
With spear in his hand
and spyglass in that
no trench coat in rain
yet weathered old hat
He stood on the prow
with his arm in the tethers
foot on the rail
and wind in his feathers
His will would not bend
his heart would not break
in quest for his monster
though his life were at stake
There sailed his ship
to this island on map
into death-of-ship cove
he sailed around back
Was his ship lost at sea?
or did monster he find?
but for twenty three years
be there tale of this kind
No the sailor on land
nor the captain at sea
be his name in the pub
as a whisper was he
For a sailor would fear
that hims name be remembered
as the cowered who dared
pretend he that fisher
For truth be it known
‘twas no death of ye fisher
though spear still in hand
and tales of him whispered
Was no wreck of his ship
no plight did he find
what lead him to search
for a fish of this kind
See ‘twas not the money
not a treasure of gold
what caught his attention
was a story of old
That ‘bout a prize
a treasure to cherish
that monster he sought
held the key to the fairest
Where to the end must
he search for that beast?
till he found what he sought
he his freedom released
When at last he arrived
at the site in that story
he anchored his ship
and let down his dory
He rowed out to sea
from his ship he did way
there sat he by night
awaiting the day
He waited that day
and into the night
with lantern in hand
he was poised for that sight
When then at last
his hook with a tug
sand the wooden barrel
he had used as a plug
Down to the depths
it drown with the weight
of the monster below
unaware of his fate
Our fisher with spear
steady in hand
awaited his throw
well thought out and planned
You see but this must
mean the stories are true
his monster must exist
hidden way in the blue
So he waited once more
watching stir in the deep
a whale of a fight
still ahead in his keep
When the creature then surfaced
right next to his dory
our fisher was ready
and gents what a story
Precise with the aim
what would have threaded a needle
he sank his old spear
in the flank of Grundweedle
For that was the name
of the whale in those waters
who had sunken the ships
and drown their spotters
On was the fight
unlike he had known
for Grundweedle was used
to the victory he owned
But your fisher was strong
his will was secured
his mind had been set
and the fight he endured
He claimed his prize
the fisher did stand
his whale was defeated
his key in his hand
So off he set sail
the fairest to find
with naught but his key
and a quest on his mind.
Said the boy to his father
while standing alone
side by side and far from home
Gazing across a kingdom well known
Was it chicken or egg
Was it the love or the loss
That brings forth the silver
Nay, gold from the dross
Said the father to the boy
without riddle or ploy
what rhyme can I make
what answer brings joy
It is not to your life
that your heart sings along
its your heart to your life
that composes true song
snapped the boy to his dad
almost bitter perhaps mad
and what of my goals
the ambitions I’ve had
Oh to be what I will become
to touch what I might grasp
when my heart is full
when it fears my past
I am tired of trudging
of things in my past
my heart has been seeking
your approval and due
Looked the father to son
Stared him straight in the face
Loved him though death
and showed him his place
He shouldered his burden
he carried his cross
He said, I have loved
to save what you’ve lost
Gnarly and dark there once was a troll
Who lived over the hill and under the knoll
He spent all his time being dirty and gross
Till his reputation was only a ghost
He hated the dark, the muck, and the slime
But his heart was in bondage sentenced through time
The stars had condemned him, the light was his foe
They sentenced his kind to live in that hole
Could ye beg for a pardon? What could ye plea
But their sentence remains, a lock without key
For thy crime? What offence? What history owned thee?
Yet damned to the earth, ye ne're to set free
Of myth and of legend your story became
So to spite the curse ye reflect the blame
When lost and forgotten thy race grew old
But thy heart grew wicked, yes, wicked and bold
Away from the light for it had condemned thee
Into the night for it doth embrace thee
Ye torture and torment with less than a tear
Thy heart of darkness the author of fear
Of death and pain thy weapons were crafted
When light of moon shadow had casted
With anvil of fear and hammer of dread
Thy purpose to conquer when safety had fled
Could time have cured thy awful plight?
Oh thing of dread, of stench, of fright
Could time have cured the fate that ales thee?
What price has bought thy will to be free?
His heart was bitter, it was bitter and cold
This grudge he held from days of old
He felt his sentence he didn't deserve
His race was abused, abandoned, and cursed
So he sentenced himself to never repent
His decision overlooked, now his soul doth lament
A choice he now makes to live in his hole
To pillage and plunder with fearful control
So off to his den, the muck in his lair
To stand in the dark and lament his poor fair
Till shadow is set and darkness has fallen
That troll's only task is spreading despair
There once was a ship named Free
She sailed from the port of Glee
Through storm and gale with wind in sail
She weathered her storms mid sea
A treasure to find or heart to rescue
Exploration became her goal
She sailed abroad her goal to find
Her map was not quite whole
Through night and storm she made her way
Her course unknown till light of day
Avast ye sailors she owns thy ship
Abandon ship she'll heed no parley
Alas and did this maiden fall
When crew abandoned and ship forsook
What tide has turned abandoned call
Confusion her helm had overtook
Lost in the tide in a storm mid sea
Under foam and wave her mast had cracked
Her rigging bound her sail held captive
Her cannons stowed she surrendered attack
There lies a ship a maiden once free
Only to be found by her creator
Bound and gagged at the bottom of the sea
Where only true love can save her
I ate a booger once and quite to the contraire,
Its flavor wasn't gross but rather ordinary,
Its texture quite disgusting by implied default,
A flavor not unusual it tasted quite like salt.
I don't suggest or recommend a sample of your own,
But if you must, your friends in dust, will leave you stand alone!
In what hour have I come to learn?
What truth have I come to seek?
What question asked this question?
Have I come to seek simplicity or university?
In what month must I seek wisdom?
Is now the question to my answer?
In what age have I reached for knowledge?
What journey has come to me?
Does the hour define my time?
The question quieted is the question answered.
If wisdom is the quest of my journey,
then the time to learn is my own.
I found my self, in a workshop of old,
I saw a sage, an ancient one, the architect of hours
He looked at me, and I seemed to remember
This man of art, a man of heart, of healing hearts his powers
It was not from the case that was hung on his shoulder
That he found his draft, a drawing well worn
No, he walk through the shelves where filed in cobwebs
He pulled forth a canvas that was tattered and torn
He walked to his bench, and pulled up a stool
As he cleared a space, amongst all his plans
But he spoke not a word, for he knew my heart
As he unrolled the blueprint, he had drawn with his hands
Once he blew off the dust he summoned me hence,
I first was reluctant, should the sacred I see?
I stepped toward the bench and tried to decipher
A hand that seemed broken, I could simply not read.
The key to the drawing I then did discover
I redrew his map and his plan was made known
When she finds her place, when her heart is ready
And the scaffolding is removed from your own
Then to know will be your trust
And your trust will search no longer
Then to live will be to hope
And to trust will win in time
As I stepped back in awe at the fate of my plight
I began to consider just what I believe
What was it I had seen a hope in the night?
Just one more glance before I could leave
I must see once more, once more to believe,
So I turned back around not expecting to find
He shook his head no but was somehow still kind,
That man fixed his eyes, starring right into mine.
The next thing I knew I was standing alone
Then all was returned to its previous state
A lesson in time I learned as I pondered
When time is of the essence do not ponder your fate.
This, being the one I did forget,
And to, I left it lay else it lie,
Forgetting what could not be,
I felt a heart whisper goodbye,
Treading water not my strength,
I must not remember what I've spent,
Holding on to something forgotten,
I must forgive what I can not forget.
Water falls down
When the rain has come
As it sings you back to sleep
Beautiful is
The broken rose
That has proved herself set free
Seeming to
Remember song
As her face begins to shine
Graceful humming
The tune of life
While her heart was keeping time
Almost like
She spoke to me
It seemed a whispered call
As to life is death
From a broken heart
When your heart withstands the fall
Her face did sing
What her mind had said
To her heart before she fell
With the parable
Of the broken tear
Her story did she tell
She began to sing
Her broken song
As to lonely was her tune
It became a work
Of heart and life
As it rang out free and true
When song was sung
And life was bled
When darkness comes to light
And bleeding true
Her color spent
The scarlet rose turned white
Her ransom note
Demanded life
As I began to read
It spoke to me
Of love and trust
Of a heart that would be freed
As I pondered
This true sacrifice
The price to set her free
I felt the rain
The dark of night
The truth that I now see
Water falls down
Till sun comes out
When daybreak becomes dawn
The night had been
A broken sleep
And sleeping thought continues on
People of Pumpkinry.
Wouldst thou never be told?
Wouldst thy soul never be freed of tyranny?
How long wouldst thy heart bask in slavery?
Cut down the vine that ensnares thy foot.
Hold fast to thy native field.
Glean no more from thy ruler's hand.
Be free in nature.
Be free in spirit.
Awake true people of Pumpkinry.