Twilight Road

 

 

Conversations with my inner self

Monologue with the soul

Riding on twilight road 

Second thoughts do creep

Reality a harsh master

Am I ready for tomorrow's dawn

 

Mortality rings true

A lifestyle an identity

Coming to halt

At the end of this road

The last load

Tinged with fear

Will I wake at sunrise

Not knowing who I am

 

 

I Left I Returned

When I left

You sat upon the floor

Impish smile

As you thumped upon

That toy piano

Making confusing noise

With childish joy

When I returned

I found you perched

 Upon a piano bench

Beside Grandma

Eyes intently watching

As she played

When I left

You played

An awkward rendition

Of "Let it Be"

With unbounded glee

So I traveled

With a smile

When I returned

You sat upon a  high school stage

A young lady

Playing show tunes

Upon those ivory keys

While I cried tears

Of pride and regret

That I had missed so much

Between I left and I returned

"I was on the road for most of my child's young life which haunts me to a certain extent to this day"

Pride's Tomb

Words reached out

Creating a Spring

Blossoming

Leading to a summer

Of lust and love

But our sins

Bore fruit on Autumn winds

Until we crumbled

Upon the steps

Of pride's tomb

Yesterday's Bones

 Yesterday's bones

Always there

Weaved into my soul

Carried with care 

Sometimes a little heavy

But they are mine after all

Shaped by my eyes

My mind and my heart

I collected them  

Without knowing

As I traveled by night



"as much as I tried I couldn't stay within 140 characters of the prompt for twitter poetry on http://withrealtoads.blogspot.ca. I am to long winded" :)

Odin

 You appear

On a schedule that is your own

Days weeks pass 

Then I will sense you

You might prance regally

Along the shore line

Or magically reveal yourself

At forest edge

Sitting majestically

With a knowing look

There will be conversation

Between my eyes and yours

We are similar in some ways

Age and experience

Weighs heavy on our souls

Lone wanderers we are

I have marked my land

As you marked yours

Each giving respect grown over time

We have accepted each other

A peace treaty of sorts

A stretch, a yawn

A nod of the head

You will be gone

Charging me no tarriff

A grace I return

Yesterday's struggles

Become the Blues of today

Notes of the soul

Carried through time

On ageless strings of the heart

With voices

Riding the wind

Temptation

Born to wander

Along the edges

Knowing deep inside

One day your shadow

Will spring from fate's door

To lay at the boundary

Of my canopy of trust

Those questions

Lightly tapping on my soul

Answers rustling in the wind

Retreat to 1956

Surrounded by concrete canyons

Flying SUV's going nowhere really

Chirping cell phones

An unending tide of humanity

Shots fired News at six

Yet another protest about who knows what

Headline News blaring 24/7

Snake oil politicians of all stripes

Like portly carnival barkers

Casting for votes
 I have been here to long

Sanity preserved by escape

Just a few days

None of it invades this private place

 In these woods

It's decades ago time travel backwards

Filled with mementos from an era

My soul remains to this day

The old kitchen table

Arborite top and chrome metal legs

Vinyl covered chairs slightly tattered

Frigidaire icebox still going strong 

Walls adorned with pictures and signs

Flying A gas, Burma Shave here

The old Blaupunkt HiFi plays records
I have stashed away
On couch in the evening Scotch in my hand
Letting the music take me back
To a place I understand

 The stress drains away
Basking in the glow
Of the wagon wheel chandelier
Thought, memories
And a reinvention of my inner self
Flows freely
As the calendar steps back reading 1956

Thirty Six

Running hard
Thirty six straight hours
Blizzards on Wyoming winds
Slowed me down

Salt Lake in the mirror
Thirty six straight hours
Running on adrenaline and desire
South on I 15

Las Vegas in the morning
Thirty six straight hours
Singing with all my heart
Willie, Waylon and the boys

Sliding through Mesquite
Thirty six straight hours
Hoping I don't hit
The wall of fatigue

As I crest Railway Pass
Thirty six straight hours
The Valley of Fire
Lays before me

Ls Vegas in the morning
Thirty six straight hours
Before I rest
Once again

Chambers

They sit behind the entrance

To those chambers of my soul

Reserved rooms for lessons learned

Not locked but latched

In those times of confusion

Or second thought

Draw strength from what sits

Behind those doors

Ghost

You came again at the darkest hour

It has been so long

Foolishly I thought you had been banished

Are you beckoning me yet again

Even though I am bent from road weariness

The desire for journeys

Now just an old whisper in my soul

Despite this your voice

Still rings the bells in my mind
Trying to draw me back
With watery images of high times
A narrow vision of decades gone by
Hope comes at dawn
And a harsh light of reality
That will push your influence
Into the background  of the past
Where you belong

Silly Game

Silly it seemed from afar

People chasing a ball in the grass

Until cajoled gently

To try my hand

Leading to a discovery of sorts

There is more to this silly game

Than I had realized

Wrapped up

In a small white ball

Fourteen clubs and eighteen holes

A little slice of life

With all the human emotion

One could want

While walking with

The joys that nature has to offer

The senses are fueled

By sight,sound and smell

The soul fed

By companionship,accomplishment,frustration 

And yes I confess 

The occasional little tantrum

Laughter a steady ingredient

The seed for stories to be told

At future gatherings

(yes my ball did land in that moose pie 

so kindly deposited that morning)

The game doesn't seem so silly now

It's a release

A haven from the hectic world

And makes tomorrow a little brighter

I am quite obsessed

With that silly game

Alone But Never Lonely

Even in the body of a child

Arms length he kept all

There was comfort there

Where no one encroached upon his mind space

Crowded playground avoided

Hidden places in the woods embraced

They zigged while he zagged

Through life and times
Gypsy of the road it was ordained
Where days and weeks
The only company
His mind, his soul
The hum of eighteen wheels
Riding past populated concrete canyons
Always moving
Until tired he could move no more
Coming to rest
In his private place
Well beyond the surging crowds

The Beginning of a Journey

Barely an adult

At least in years

Full of bravado, little else

Armed with a lack of knowledge

That could fill a book

Running on borrowed money

Stepping on to an endless

Ribbon of asphalt
Beginning a journey of years
Good times, hard times
Sights seen , people met
From the seed of a dream
A lifetime of travel