Lucid Waking

Archive for the ‘Poems’ Category

Lazy Summertime

Lazy summertime
Doing all the things I can’t
When I have no time.

Ideas

Ideas are best when freshly caught
Not salted or smoked or preserved
Not old and fermented in jelly jars
Like wine, that’s better with age.

No, ideas bloom with the excitement of capture
And wane when they’ve sat too long.
They’re better when you first look at them
Than when you go back to see how bad they’ve become.
But ideas are rare things these days
And though I’m still looking sharp
My traps are empty, the bait all gone
While I’m still sitting here, waiting.

Desert Treasure

Sifting through sand
To find what is lost:
Treasures unnumbered,
Riches beyond cost:
Silver more numerous
Than tons of gold,
Statues more beautiful
Than the eye can behold,
More color in carpets
Than the sky at dusk…
And all of it gone…
The ages turned it to dust.

The Red Shoes

They loved to dance.
They didn’t know why.
And when little girls frolicked
And little girls cried,
The little red shoes would glimmer and shine
For that special little girl to say,
“They’re mine.”

They loved to dance
And dance they would.
From the shadowy valley to the sun speckled wood.
They’d never stop dancing,
Through the kingdom they’d go:
Through dandelion powder and cotton wood snow,
Past mountains majestic and meadows so wide,
Past sea foam that tickled the sandy seaside,
Then back again to the girl’s humble abode,
Then out the front door to dance after a toad.

The girl they adored would sputter and pout
As she had to dance ‘til her life was worn out
But the shoes would continue as never before
Longing to dance forever more.

The Garden Party

Seven English roses in a garden set for tea,
With watercress sandwiches and potpourri.
Dressed in their Sunday finest and fresh
Dew drops settling on their velvety flesh.
They gossip with the butterflies,
And sing softly to the cerulean skies.
Daintily downing their herbal drink
They’re much too happy to even think.
But soon the garden party must be done,
The roses are left to soak up the sun.
Out of their Sunday finest they go,
Back to donning holly and mistletoe.
But never is a rose’s gossiping done,
And they chitter and chatter until night has come.
And in each other’s company they stay
For the garden party the very next day.

The Woodpecker and the Swan

“Where are you going my sweet?” the woodpecker said to the swan.
“Down to the river to get a drink of the sweetest mulberry wine.
“Then I’ll dance under the moon
“And sing for the lilacs, too,
“And come home before the sun signals dawn.”

“Perhaps my love, a different date would serve you all the well,
“If instead you stayed with me, under the catalpa tree
“Sipping strawberry rhubarb tea
“Until the sun signals the dawn.”

“Oh no, my love that wouldn’t be a proper compromise.
“I think that you and I should be
“Separate, though in comradery,
“And I will leave you to your tree,
“As the sun is signaling dawn.”

The woodpecker sighed and watched her go,
Past the cherry blossom snow,
Through the water and misty haze
Contemplating his sacrifice of sleep.

Take the “A” Train by Duke Ellington

If the world were a perfect sphere
It’d be a beautiful place.
There would be no destruction
Or sorrow and disgrace.
There would be no color
To complexify one’s life;
Everything would be in monochrome
Without a speck of spice

But the world is covered in misshapen holes
With mountains in between
And everything is intensified:
The good the bad and the ugly.
We relish when the sun shines down
And even in the rain…
Nothing’s ever perfect,
But we’re happy all the same.

(Listen to it)

Daytime Dance

The morning sun was far away,
A golden spot upon blue-gray.
The sun’s cold tips lit up the path
Giving the plants a warm sunbath.
The wind made music through the trees
And the daffodils danced in the breeze.
The birds sang along with ease
To the humming bumble bees.
Soon the daytime dance was done,
Ready tomorrow with the rising sun.

Sea of Blue

I’m drowning in a sea of blue
The fish are laughing; and the moon, too.
I simply don’t know what to do
As the color engulfs my breath.
If I had just sat upon the shore
Happy with purgatory…not wanting more
I am regretting what I did before
The color engulfed my breath.

Cherry Blossoms

Cherry blossoms fall
Velvet petals in my hair
Quiet solitude.