Silence

featured in the poetry forum July 21, 2017  :: 0 comments

I sit here tracing these words across this screen
Looking for other possibilities
That can slide beyond the measures of reason
These days my day’s measure is spent
Searching possible futures
That leave me stranded here
In this distant present:

Measuring each word written
I sit in a shady place
And pace each line away
Writing a last refuge
A prisoner pacing the yard
Each word a step
In this battle with meaning

Experience will remain
A mixture of loss and gain
I am torn between a head
That reasons
And a heart that knows

I trace borderlines
Weighing possibilities
One past with another
Looking for connections
Still experience remains
Wrapped by silence
I will not let this rocky world
Shatter me.

editors note:

A little shredded, but never shattered. We make what meaning we can. – mh clay

THE PICCOLO BAR

featured in the poetry forum October 29, 2016  :: 0 comments

for Vittorio

Feeling like a piece of debris
In life’s flooding flow
I come here to enjoy the show.
A place for the dispossessed.
Its dark cave light
Offers a coffee-cup shield
Against the ticking clock.
A cafe patronized
By interesting people
Or so the sign said.
Wonder why I am here
Hiding in this blue cloud.

Remember it’s a place
To sit and dream
Drifting with memory’s stream.
Anguish just lost moments
Searching the menu board
While Billy Holiday’s voice
Filters into the night.
Safe in this warm glow
I sit in the corner
And watch characters
Exchange masks
Playing the night
With these star-splashed themes.

editors note:

Walk right in, folks. No cover. Masks optional. – mh clay

Silence

featured in the poetry forum May 9, 2016  :: 0 comments

I sit here tracing these words across this screen
Looking for other possibilities
That can slide beyond the measures of reason
These days my day’s measure is spent
Searching possible futures
That leave me stranded here
In this distant present:

Measuring each word written
I sit in a shady place
And pace each line away
Writing a last refuge
A prisoner pacing the yard
Each word a step
In this battle with meaning

Experience will remain
A mixture of loss and gain
I am torn between a head
That reasons
And a heart that knows

I trace borderlines
Weighing possibilities
One past with another
Looking for connections
Still experience remains
Wrapped by silence
I will not let this rocky world
Shatter me.

editors note:

Paper wraps rock every time. – mh clay

WINDY SPACES TRANQUIL YET STORMY

featured in the poetry forum November 22, 2015  :: 0 comments

The day is racked and tortured
Its windy spaces tranquil yet stormy;
My silent heart cries out
And I breath deep
To prevent tears
From falling down my cheeks;
For only tears
Can articulate these inner silences
That tear at my being;
Tears only can make sense
Of these longings
That remain illusive and inexpressible.

My heart cries out
And I breath deep
To prevent tears
Welling up into my eyes;
Locked in silence
Each of us must hold
This loneliness to the chest;
I hunger for something
That I am unable to grasp.

My heart cries out
And I breath deep
To prevent tears
Falling down my cheeks;

I yearn for a woman’s embrace
To feel the arms of another
Wrapped around me;
There is no-one.

My heart cries out
And I breath deep
To fight back tears
That threaten
To roll down my cheeks;

I long for that which I have never had:
Knowing that all desire
Must be ship-wrecked by an alien world;
Knowing dreams and defeat form a singularity;
While windy spaces remain tranquil yet stormy.

editors note:

Alone, we enter. Alone, we exit. All seek “together” in between. – mh clay

These Dark Days

featured in the poetry forum May 3, 2015  :: 0 comments

For Leigh, on her birthday, with love in my heart,
I dedicate this poem to you, starlight.

Some days I think
in a deep dark gloom,
and I ask myself this question:
​D​oes love truly transform?
Is love a bright light in this
dark and vicious world?
I wonder in silence.

Then you are here.
You show yourself to me,
and once again I fall deeply in love with you.
In wonder and amazement
I love you as a father should,
other times,
as a friend trusted and true,
sometimes as a lover, a woman.

When you shine,
your starlight,
such beauty in a dark day;
a bright sun,
transforms my heavy heart;
shining on in the darkness,
your beauty​ ​- a star –
moves my heart to love.

When I see you bright as the sun,
I wonder at your beauty
and your bravery.

We are all dust.
Our bones, our flesh
made from the dust of distant dead stars.
This place, cruel and hard, is not our home;
We are only visitors here,
each lost and alone.

We hunger for our home;
Is it as close as the heart,
as distant as the stars?

I look into your eyes
and my heart is lighter,
that place of light
just a little closer.

editors note:

The answer here is, “Yes!” Light + Love = Transformation (We are happy to welcome John back to the ranks of our Contributing Poets. Read this and more of his madness on his reinstated page – check it out.)​ – mh clay

Silence

featured in the poetry forum September 8, 2013  :: 0 comments

I sit here tracing these words across this screen
Looking for other possibilities
That can slide beyond the measures of reason
These days my day’s measure is spent
Searching possible futures
That leave me stranded here
In this distant present:

Measuring each word written
I sit in a shady place
And pace each line away
Writing a last refuge
A prisoner pacing the yard
Each word a step
In this battle with meaning

Experience will remain
A mixture of loss and gain
I am torn between a head
That reasons
And a heart that knows

I trace borderlines
Weighing possibilities
One past with another
Looking for connections
Still experience remains
Wrapped by silence
I will not let this rocky world
Shatter me

editors note:

These words; all we have to make sense. Write ’til the refuge comes. – mh clay

The Cafe

featured in the poetry forum January 24, 2013  :: 0 comments

To Nick and Dave at 381

Each morning I make my way
To this familiar place:
This refuge from the world
Located inside a public place.
I sit in the corner day after day
Taking in the atmosphere;
Surveying the faces of other regulars,
I see in each storm-swept impression,
That lingers on the surface of each face
Before it quietly slips away,
Ripples of meaning, moving outwards
Towards an imagined centre.

Under a grey tent of cloud
I sit here allowing my mind to wander
Over past understandings;
A flawed memory looks backwards
To make sense of the past.

In this place for fugitives
All are dispossessed
Running from a scorching world;
In here life is safely captured
In the reflections of a mirrored wall.
An outside sends us out of ourselves,
Eye meets eye,
Torn apart by contradiction
We are thrown into a sifting world.

Glancing over to the side of the room
I find myself lost
To reflections sent by another.
In the space of a glance
We explore a place between inner and outer.
These perceptions mould our world
Forming a dispersed self
That must find sense in this fragmented world;
Reflections formed by reflections,
We move between understanding and understanding,
Always with a vague sense
That things could be otherwise.

editors note:

Anonymous observers, mirror opposite mirror, infinite reflection of everyone else. – mh clay

The City

featured in the poetry forum November 30, 2011  :: 0 comments

This day slips away
into darkness it falls
the back streets are my home
on the edges at the boundaries

I sit drinking coffee
wondering about other days;
this city has taught me
we are all fools in its grand masquerade;

Each street is marked out in shadows
no one sleeps, the darkness lingers
savage and silent
waiting, waiting…

In blue balance the darkness gathers
as evening crowds and shrouds this place.
Street lights dim and white
keep the darkness firmly in check;
while a neon cross flashes a bill board salvation.

In this mechanical clock work
each day falls away;
the darkness gathers,
dark blue turns to black.
While in the back street shadows chase the light
wishing to consume it;
In the shadows they linger chasing.

Here we are shadows scotched by the light that casts us into darkness;
shadows we linger on this thin line;
empty figments of the imagination we are but shadows;
shadows cast by the light;

In the back streets shifting shadows change
and in a moment fade
in this mad dash into night.

This city has taught me to dream;
it changes, it fades and then it lives again with the day.
Everything must change in this dusty masquerade
and if we are to live as we should
we change with it as we fade into the night.

editors note:

Now the butterfly dreams he is a man, exchanging nectar for coffee; brightly colored wings for transitory shadows. Quickly, lay those eggs before you die! – mh clay

This is not a Love Poem

November 30, 2011  :: 0 comments

I remember delicate embraces;
how I held you in my arms,
hoping you may learn to trust me;
how tenderness is mixed with pain.

I remember secrets exchanged
as we laid in bed;
your gentle strokes upon my forehead;
shared laughter; your shimmering eyes.

I remember your silky hair
against the white pillow;
how in soft candle-light
amongst gentle murmurs
for one brief moment eternity was touched.

This is not a love poem,
it is just a backward glance
at how for a time there was no time
only those cheating intimacies
that finally betrayed us.

The 20th

March 20, 2011  :: 0 comments

and so once again the 20th of the month is here.
the days all crowd in
then fall away
time moves swiftly each day, each hour, each minute brings me to my death
and to you.

Some times I long so,
not for the past so much though that is part of it;

I long for what can never be.

I cannot go back, the past is gone now
lost in time.
So then what of the future?

We come from darkness so we must return to it:
there is only the present;
this solitary moment that hangs between a long lost past
and a yet to be future.

Just one single moment is all that is left now.

The days still fall withered and worn;
each morning
I wake to greet your face
you remind me the moment must be lived, grasped firmly now;
for though I may hanker for another time
it will not wait for me in its dash to be gone.

Though in so many ways you are still with me
in a moment of knowing: the scent of flowers, a cool breeze, a song;
that tender flow of feeling calm and strong.

This temple of words I erect in your honor;
for you have given me the words
to heal my sorrowed heart

when the night was darkest and all hope seemed to be lost
you were there with me, guiding me.

Without your love
I would be lost to this world:
a part of me died and was buried with you
a part of you still lives with me
you are my center, the still point of my life.

In the quiet of autumn time in the evening
as the sun is fading behind the horizon
I think of you;
heart to heart, my love goes with you,
your love stays here with me

a mirror that magnifies
this is all that really matters now
there is nothing else left now.

The spider Goddess weaves her web
and so our hearts become entangled
in that place of stillness and calm.

Each tear drop may fall, each beat of the heart may thump
but in the silence between the stars,
the silence between the thump of each heart beat or the fall of one tear drop,
in that silence there I find you.