Poetry and Lyrics

2020 Head 3

Filing Taxes – poem

Only vaguely knowing what is inside, I pick up the large manila envelope.

On the front printed in large black Sharpie-drawn letters

Are our names, address, and phone number.

It somehow reminds me of elementary school.

Taxes and the business of running the house are my wife’s domain.

She is very good with money. I am not.

I am barely more than a delivery boy.

I do, however, love everything about this annual trip out west into the country to our CPA’s home office.

In the driveway, my old pickup waits.

It is an impractical vehicle, older than is convenient.

Repairs are problematic, yet I love the way it feels to drive.

I love the way it feels to sit in the driver’s seat.

Somehow it connects me to a past that I didn’t live but wish I did.

Backing out of the driveway, gravel crunches as I am careful not to hit our mailbox.

Me and my truck head to RR12 and then HWY290 pointed west and out of town.

The town quickly evaporates from the roadside

Giving way to expansive meadows of green, yellow, purple, blue, and white.

Remembering to pay attention I hang a right on the correct road.

Many times, I miss the turn and travel quite a way down the highway

Before realizing my mistake.

Not this time.

The country road winds and twists undulating up and down rolling hills.

Old stone houses slide by from time to time.

My favorite is an old field-stone farmhouse

With a tumble-down barn and a rock cistern showing its age from a time long past.

A past I feel connected to from dreams and imaginings.

My pickup rattles across a cattle guard.

A brown cow looks up from the grass.

A large brown eye follows as I pass,

Then she bows her head and continues with more important matters.

Turning in the driveway of my CPA’s house and office,

I marvel at the push mowers, riding mowers, and other lawn equipment

Scattered like yard art in front and behind the out-building office.

I assume the unidentified pieces of metal are lawn equipment.

If truth be known, I know nothing of what most of it might be used for.

Might be farm equipment.

It might be something else.

I know less about that than I do about lawn equipment.

I rarely see my CPA.

We communicate and exchange documents

Using an old drop box with a slot to drop folders in

And a large reassuring padlock.

Leaving the truck running

I climb out and drop the manila envelope

Into the slot and it hits the bottom

With a satisfying thump.

Back in my truck I retrace my path

Passing the brown cow, the stone house,

The cistern, the multi-colored meadow.

Pulling into the driveway the tires crunch through the gravel.

Another annual delivery complete.

The engine is switched off.

I sit in the silence in

My old truck

Thinking of the past that never was mine but mine none the less.

Stable Moon – poem

Stable moon peeling back the water’s edge

making light white with shade.

What would the wondering be in this darkness?

The face of the shadow showing belief

in places unseen yet felt.

Stance not held with enthusiasm, but

rather nudged by the wind from the stars.

Simmer Dim Waltz – lyric

Echoes of ancient days

Off the northeast shore of Scotland

It remains a hard life

On the scattered isles of Shetland

The sun never sets

On warm slope-current days

The light won’t leave you alone

Holding on to old ways

Faces turned up to the sky

Need for dreams at an all time high

How long has it been

Got to get back to when

The stars are salting the sky

And the moon is hiding her eyes

We’ll step hand in hand

We’ll listen to the band

And do the Simmer Dim Waltz

We’ll slip off to sleep

Together our hearts will beat

The morning will come

And with breakfast all done

We’ll do the Simmer Dim Waltz

Herding midnight sheep

The hauling peat breaks your back

Blackhouse stares out to sea

In summer there’s no slack

Not closed my eyes since July

It’s been three weeks since I stumbled to sleep

The gods sense weariness

Shadows stir in the deep

Faces turned up to the sky

Need for dreams at an all time high

How long has it been

Must get back to when

The stars are salting the sky

And the moon is hiding her eyes

We’ll step hand in hand

We’ll listen to the band

And do the Simmer Dim Waltz

We’ll slip off to sleep

Together our hearts will beat

The morning will come

And with breakfast all done

We’ll do the Simmer Dim Waltz

Waves stroke the shore

Steady breath of eternity

Clouds cross the sky

Jeweled stars in ebony

The lighthouse braces against the wind

Silver light reaching for the lost

Laced windows, worried eyes

Fearful of the cost

Faces turned up to the sky

Need for dreams at an all time high

How long has it been

Got to get back to when

The stars are salting the sky

And the moon is hiding her eyes

We’ll step hand in hand

We’ll listen to the band

And do the Simmer Dim Waltz

We’ll slip off to sleep

Together our hearts will beat

The morning will come

And with breakfast all done

We’ll do the Simmer Dim Waltz

Breathe – poem

Unaware of the obvious lying under a blade of grass

Walking with purpose obscured by intent

Stuck to the vision of a long assumed version of self

It was there all along but passed by without notice

Aggressively ignored making certain all is safe

Oblivious and carefully examined

Obsessed with the acutely insignificant

Measured focus safety harness strapped tight

Calm misery oscillates with a singular line of reasoning

Process of elimination voids completion

Stepping over the reserved

Running under attack of confusion

Cease

Focus on your breath

Listen

Adhere to your core

Wait

Breathe

Hickory Dreams – lyric

As we walk

Over head

Cascade of leaves

Hand in hand

The wind

Sweeps away from me

Dappled light

Magic wood

Red and gold

Arc of the stairs

Stacks of stone

Ancient stories told

Hickory memories

Of a childhood past

Hickory dreams

A lifetime will last

Hickory memories

Of a childhood time

Hickory dreams

Follow down the line

Meandering path winding down

The brittle breeze

All but lost back in time

The CCC

Sweet sadness

Spinning ‘round the moon

Helping hand

Headed back to our room

Our cabin in the wood

Down below

Waits for us

Firelight aglow

The Spinning Web of Dawn – poem

The spinning-web of dawn

wipes clean the sky’s memory

of unseen spectacle

through the pinprick of perception’s gesture.

The wailing-siren of complacency

makes certain nothing is heard

from the other-world

of dreams and the under-time of then.

Think back down around the back

of many glowing ideas that seemed precise,

that were deemed unreasonable and diffuse

but now are blank and bare.

Softening sound of light passing over faces

looking skyward, asking.

Damp ground supports and pulls at intention.

The looking becomes round and full.

You’ll Be Okay – lyric

A boy nine years of age

Slips on a curb slick with snow

Mother’s dreams beginning to fade

Facing a hard row to hoe

Facing a hard row to hoe

Sister’s on the other side of the street

Mother looks on full of weariness

Father’s been gone eight years this week

Daughter’s shows too much experience

Daughter’s shows too much experience

Close your eyes, fly over the fields

Shifting left, shifting right

Out of touch with how you feel

All’s left to do is hang on tight

All’s left to do is hang on tight

Walk away, turn your back

Nothing left to do, no right to say

Ignore things that you lack

Make it over the pass, you’ll be Okay

Make it over the pass, you’ll be Okay

Special order screwed up again

Father’s attention is of no use

Made him crawl plumb out of his skin

When he rolled the second duce

When he rolled the second duce

Lost his wage once again

Nothing to send to the wife and kids

The man said no more money will I lend

Desperation circles what he did

Desperation circles what he did

Close your eyes, fly over the fields

Shifting left, shifting right

Out of touch with how you feel

All’s left to do is hang on tight

All’s left to do is hang on tight

Walk away, turn your back

Nothing left to do, no right to say

Ignore things that you lack

Make it over the pass, you’ll be Okay

Make it over the pass, you’ll be Okay

Looking over the edge far below

The river slips through jagged rocks

Surely there’s another way to go

All he’s got to do is simply stop

All he’s got to do is simply stop

Mother tents fingers at the table

Sister sits alone staring at the sky

Brother hopes he is able

Father turns for home as cars slip by

Father turns for home as cars slip by

Close your eyes, fly over the fields

Shifting left, shifting right

Out of touch with how you feel

All’s left to do is hang on tight

All’s left to do is hang on tight

Walk away, turn your back

Nothing left to do, no right to say

Ignore things that you lack

Make it over the pass, you’ll be Okay

Make it over the pass, you’ll be Okay

The Sun Fades Away – poem

The sun fades away

Pulling its light into the sky

Hues of yellow

From the pallet of Van Gogh

Is what we see what we feel

Or is it something that seems

Like the gold that fills the bowl

Of our pipe-dream tonight

Clouds Cast Shadows – poem

The clouds cast shadows crawling ‘cross the meadow.

With gentle speed do we heed the chase?

Do we need to waste any more time?

Seems a crime to hold it in.

I was certain it was a place to begin.

A place to begin.