Before the Big Bang

April 7, 2017  :: 0 comments

What sparked the Big Bang? Should we give a dang how the experts debate as to what might predate it or seemed to exist? Speaking for myself, I cannot resist a fantasy spree of drifting away in reveries vast about our fabulous, fathomless past. Utterness whereabouts always were there, and singularities melt in thin air, when we consider an alternate …

Crack of Shine

featured in the poetry forum March 20, 2017  :: 0 comments

The sky was dark and dreary
as I trudged along the path,
with vision dim and bleary,
under thunderclouds of wrath,

one foot before another,
plodding onward through despair,
yet knowing of no other
road to lead me anywhere.

With blackness fast descending,
though my journey incomplete,
the trail became unending,
and I gave up in defeat.

Surrendering my proneness
to stouthearted courage prove,
I foundered in aloneness,
too dispirited to move.

Every hope and dream was gone
as I lay me down supine,
having no will to go on…
Then I spied a crack of shine.

Light was streaming through the cleft
in a sort of golden haze.
The impression that it left
was of some illumined blaze

which had kept aflame within
midst my melancholy mood
and a mindless inner din
that begot disquietude.

The fissure in the shadow
letting in the rays of light
summoned forth an inner glow
which was hidden from my sight.

I stayed there lying prostrate
for what seemed eternity,
speculating on my fate
as to be or not to be.

At length I managed to rise,
unsteady but striving still.
For life goes on – great nature’s wise –
it can, it must, and it will.

Yes life goes on – the truth there lies –
it can, it must, and it will.

The vision that was present
has never lost its power.
What I saw plus what it meant
comes back in my darkest hour.

It reappears through thick and thin –
that crack of shine that dwells within…

It’s always there through thick and thin –
that crack of shine that dwells within…

editors note:

Yes, it can, it must, and it will. Thanks, Harley! – mh clay

Conversation with Someone Somewhere

featured in the poetry forum January 16, 2017  :: 0 comments

Much I’ve done
and did
was to oblige
and act a part,

not from the heart.

For early on
my heart I hid—
atop a shelf—

even from myself.

I think I did it then
because I had to.

I found that to be me,
well, it was bad to.

I learned what I should feel
then I pretended,
but even when alone it never ended.

And why
do I
still do it now?

I’d stop, but don’t know how.

I’m a fraud
dismally flawed.

That’s all I know

yet on I go…

I don’t
know why
I do,

do you?

editors note:

With self disclosure can we make closure? Can we? (Read another of Harley’s mad missives on her page. It’s an alien encounter – check it out.) – mh clay

Locus Amoenus Vision

January 16, 2017  :: 0 comments

Once when wandering deep in space
I chanced on an idyllic place
that seemed too wondrous to exist…
At night with moonlight it was kissed

as though with glowing beams of love.
By day a star shone from above
while crystal waters danced in streams.
Was this a fairyland of dreams?

The skies of lapis lazuli
were truly beauteous to see.
Forests, meadows emerald green
lent sylvan lushness to the scene

rife with songbirds sweetly trilling,
perfumed blooms in colors thrilling,
myriad marvels small and great—
oh so much to appreciate!

And yet the beings dwelling there
barely even appeared to care,
nor to grasp the fathomless worth
of their heavenly planet earth…

editors note:

We’re only visitors here. – mh clay

Primal Landscape

January 13, 2017  :: 0 comments

Day World Hickory Dickory days, divided into boxes— Time to eat breakfast. (Finish all your egg!) Wash your hands and face. Brush your teeth. (Always up and down.) Sit on the toilet. Wipe front to back. (But never why.) Story time— play time— lunch time— nap time. Take the key and wind her up. If she hollers, shut her up. …

Seasonal Skies of Wonder

featured in the poetry forum December 30, 2016  :: 0 comments

Skies of wondrous starry nights
all aglow with shining lights,
we look up to you with awe
thus to inspiration draw…

Fortunate we earthlings are
on a planet not bizarre,
close enough but not too far
from our solar system’s star

beaming its apricity,
swirled in synchronicity
to nocturnal shimmerings
lit by lunar glimmerings

as the moon reveals her face
gazing down at us from space…
(Though we know how shine those rays
still her luminescent ways

stir our fancies, as in dreams…)
Poets with their reams of themes—
tragic, magic, comical,
even astronomical—

marvel as stargazers do
with celestial aperçu
at galactic scenes on high
querying ‘where, when, and why?’…

This our orbit round the sun
of twelve months again has run
out of time in earthly flight,
and a new one looms in sight.

Looking back, I’ve seen some dreams
lose their way, or so it seems.
There’s been gladness, sadness, fear.
Now we face a coming year…

Skies of wondrous starry nights
all aglow with shining lights,
may we keep your stellar view
in our ken, beyond the blue,

with musings, self-reflective,
lest humans lose perspective!

editors note:

We are the true tale spinners! Our New Year’s story will be reflected in the stars. – mh clay

Empyreal Heart and Soul

featured in the poetry forum October 23, 2016  :: 0 comments

O Nebulae of Heart and Soul!
In infrared portrayal WISE,
your colors grace the stellar skies.
Have you a core celestial role?

Supernal presences you seem
that steal one’s fancy unawares,
far-off from earthly human cares,
inspiring a soulful dream.

Does music of the spheres resound
in utterness of heavens’ art
to beating of a boundless heart
we seldom hear here on the ground?

You bring to mind the vintage song,
where lovers fell in love and kissed
one magic night in moonlit mist —
a classic tune, still going strong.

Six thousand light-years from our Earth
is where you two evince your charm —
part of Perseus’ spiral arm —
in cosmic womb for starry birth.

That limb is in our Milky Way.
Cassiopeia holds the Soul
east of the Heart, to make the whole
of the mosaic on display.

Your archetypal names evoke
Cupid and Psyche myths of old,
tales allegorical untold,
poetic visions you awoke.

In concert you’re a perfect pair.
Befittingly you reign on high.
Lest we forget wherefore and why,
our true humanity is there!

editors note:

Again, these storied stars tell tales of us. What tales do we tell of them? (Another ekphrastic poem from Harley. Well done! See the image which inspired the verses here.) – mh clay

The Wall

September 16, 2016  :: 2 comments

Once upon a once upon a time time time I gave up on my life—that is I gave up all the things that make life worth living. Like hoping, wanting, wishing—in fact I gave up as many feelings as I could get rid of. Strange how that works. You decide—only semi-awarely—to stop feeling pain. You put up a wall—invisible, impenetrable—surrounding …

Cosmic Hand

featured in the poetry forum July 31, 2016  :: 0 comments

Once upon a ghostly star,
knee-deep in a darkling place,
I meandered off too far
into outer, outer space.

As I wandered in this land
of the void beyond the night,
suddenly I saw a hand
reaching for a cosmic light.

Though lost in darkness dreary
and adrift in bleak despair,
disheartened, weak, and weary,
I could not but stop and stare.

Such a wondrous illusion
floated in those blackened skies!
Was this only delusion
that I saw before my eyes?

Did collapsed star long ago,
pulsar spinning crazily,
cause that nebulaic glow
emanating hazily?

Was this sight to be believed?
Astrophysical ideal?
Pareidolia perceived?
Yet the phantasm seemed real!

Fingers colored brilliant blue
clutching at a fiery band
formed a most amazing view
of this archetypal hand.

And my musing mind was full
of this inner mystic spell
serving as the heavens’ pull
out of my own private hell.

That ethereal display
brought me eerily around,
showing me the light of day
and a destiny profound.

Ever onward I would plod,
thus to seek the truth inside,
on a path that few had trod
where deep wisdom would abide.

With this purpose as my guide,
though the way might twist and bend,
I would live until I died
with enlightenment my end.

Yea, it was as if a dream
of a helping hand within
shone a bright eternal beam
where obscurity had been.

editors note:

When what we see brings enlightenment and hope, then let’s see more of that! (The image  inspiring this wonderful, ekphrastic outburst can be seen here.) – mh clay

Frieze in Miniature

June 3, 2016  :: 0 comments

Sunday and snow. A promise made— a promise kept. Laden with oranges, apples, chips, crackers graham, muenster, and wine to placate my misgivings, a thermos of cold water, mittens, blankets, and four rain-booted children bundled for snowball battles, quivered with impatience— up Angeles Crest we plunged. Destination— snow— 7000 feet. Carsick children— and me. Still no snow. Destination— Big Pine. …