fiddler

My Fiddler
1-31-13


I listen to the fiddler dram
As a measure in return to us
With reciprocal frequencies
Of strange hues in the south corner
Of my poetry writing room
Blessed in that I have endured
By the grace of God
And by the hair on my chin
Clean shave this morning
Where I'd slap on my cologne
To take care of this fug fugacious
And fertile in the freedom of the faith....








Pillars And Pillows
1-31-13


Idols are utterly abolished
Yet they still stand upon street corners
Where it all begins again
These are my words inspired by the Word of God
Where idols are as pillars and pillows
For the seeker still in the search of truth
Where the sun goes down in the glory of this darkness
Perfected by the man of faith on this night
To avail oneself of in that idols yet still stand fast...








On Isaiah 2:12
1-31-13


The cedars of Lebanon are high and lifted up
Where I see a flowing over
My sugary black coffee cup
Just the way that I love her
Sweet, hot and dark
Where the tow doth burn along with such a spark
Charting my progress
On my way back to the goal at hand
Given to understand what abides and lingers at my left hand
This is my manner of observance and celebration
Of the life given freely
Of our God to make
As even all that which was odd....










The I, Reiterated
1-31-13


Dry and high
In not knowing the why
Of how I try to break down and cry
Looking upon a brick wall from across the way
And its inscription of a reiterated pattern of the letter I
This is the ego at work on our middle ground of self esteem
In this age of our Aquarius
Wherein we know who's at the front door
To learn war no more
Where spears are plowed into pruning hooks
Of our give and take...










Another Equilateral Triangle
1-31-13


I sit like a Buddha in my abode
Breaking out my library of old school classic cassettes
Of my pop and metal
Given the view of the rose
With her highly esteemed whorl and petal
And if indeed it lasts forever
I take no extra thought and care
Yet to quote those poets
Of mine own enlightenment
Using words yet to edify
And not to cast the light upon the real me
Still striving to be yet known....








On A Roll
1-31-13


Avante Garde and unconventional
Is my way of abiding in the vice and virtue
Leaning upon marble pillars decked with chalcedony and carbuncle
With a tinge of holy smoke in which tomorrow I invest
With a faith in a God that one cannot see
Yet believe without the evidence of what can be grasped by the senses
On a roll in a smoke filled room
Holy in that such is separate
From the world we know....