Sunday, October 23, 2016

The Late Hours: Loneliness Finds the Hopeful




The Late Hours

Is no one
A loneliness that holds on your arm in an icy embrace
And the shadows are long
And the daylight is absent
Nothing moves
But time is always
Slipping by
And you open your eyes
In Octobers surprise
And feel more cold and empty
Than seasonal
As the autumn leaves all
Seem colorless
And you sit pending
As the very state of being
Seems so abstract
Hanging in the balance of a liquid
That keeps the mind suppressed
And allows those moments, deeply depressed
Passing by
Like water under a bridge
What the self in a mirror
Changing by the hour
Light color flowers the happiness in a day
The dark blue violets scream the late hours….



 My Crooked Spine

My crooked spine
leads me through a forest of doubt
biding my time
dark faced birds wrestle with words
sing a song you won't forget
waiting for the sunrise to open my eyes
it hasn't happened yet
My crooked way, a path we all walk
we all question the light ahead
I walk alone in the darkness
instead
a smile to the strangers with kind eyes
a silence, an absence
no on realized
my crooked spine
it's been a few years wrestling age
disgusted with time
walk on the path, the darkest forest
God smiles, everything's  fine...



Evening

So happy to be here with you
But I can’t
I suspend in hours
A ghost, holding, no ones hand
A fiend with teeth that glitter from beneath grey bone
Sits on the edge of the couch
Across the room and reminds me, I’m alone.
Call it a skeleton of the self,
The sripped down reflection in a mirror
The wireframe image of laughter
On white walls where the sunlight
Lost its way long ago
All I have is the shadows of hours
Shadows of a day passing by
I should be thankful if not for the space
Between us
Even myself keeps its distance
The grays in this house
The disarray
Even my son stays away
All acceptable, I understand
But loneliness gives me so much
With a heavy hand
I lay in a bed in an empty room
And the morning figure
Coming soon
Wake with that panic
Or the insatiable feeling of life
Through my lungs
Where have you gone through the dark
Bends and twists of evening dreams
Its lonelier than it seemed the day before
And I can’t stand this feeling much more
Just for a moment to bask in your glory
But there is nothing you need to do
The absence of the this weight, this cumbersome self
such a pleasure to be with you.



The Absence

You tell them, you’ve lost your job
But some of them seem surprised
As if you’re barely awake
And barely alive
Did I fool myself into thinking this was a weight I could bare
It’s the absence that’s killing me
But I'm always absent
And you’re never there
The absence of that space
I should be joining spheres
Leaving here
But the empty rooms
The shadows of a day
Keep me here
So comfortably we make our beds
We sleep alone
Remember what you said
I like to be alone
but when everyone turns away, the solitary insists dismay
Assume your okay
It’s what you’ve always said
And they’ve heard it for so long
But what if loneliness is a cruel friend
and you were always wrong…



Silence Inside

The weight of the self, you lie there awake
A blade of grass in a field
Where you seek the end of summer
To feel
That hopelessness come fall
My father laid down
This time of the year
When I was ten
That feeling of the cold evenings
And beautiful days, remind me again
We lose our place in the text
Forget what we need to protect
I wait in this shadowed hall
Hoping no one will see
And yet the sign on the wall
My badge is lonely
And it sits on my shoulder
A petulant blackbird
Singing it song
Fills in the gaps of life

When the hours seem too long



All photos and words copyright artbygordon 2016

Saturday, September 24, 2016

A Soul Exposed: Across Colorado



I saw the mountains
And they stared back with indifference
And yet a comfort like no human being
Could ever convey
That feeling of being overwhelmed by beauty
As all the outer stresses melt away
And they stand so tall
Above me
And they seem to dwarf all questions I could ever ask
Their beauty makes me feel
Like the water in a stream
It rushes through every limb
And every point a flame
I don’t remember yesterday
I’m just glad I came

And they comfort my dying form
As the autumn trees lay down their own
In the silence, a victim of such distance
But I don’t feel alone
Instead, God seems closer
Colors are brighter
And with that passion
Sweeps across my troubled mind
No words to write
No questions to ask
A captured moment in time
When the mountains spoke with out a word
The most beautiful sound of silence
The most hopeful voice I’ve ever heard




God is a painter
And I’m ashamed
Of ever attempting to say
One word or stroke of hue
That could make you feel
The same
It’s no mistake we all stand quiet
All in our own space
We watch as the light and the colors
By the seconds change
And the lesson begins
As a stranger says and I agree
God is an artist
Describing it beautifully
I never offered up any of my words
Or even dare call myself an artist
Instead I spoke of my son
The only work to even compare
Across a vast autumn valley
both of us in silence stare




All the majesty of a Tuesday afternoon,
Set free across the great divide like a wind
Landscapes waiting to uncover
Secrets I never sought to find
Flaming aspens
Rich yellows and golds, crimson and wine,
Time seems kinder
Leaves me to my space
As every corner another amazing landscape
That draws itself like a painting
Slowly giving up all its colors
And all its pain
The dark and violent storm, the peaceful rain
Sleet upon mountains high
Every word and every color explained
Across the long hills beneath the shadows of giants
They say nothing
And I comply
I could barely describe this sense of being

I hesitate to even try…





Sunday, July 24, 2016

A Winter Scene: My first poem ever approximately 1973

A Winter Scene

Pictures painted 
to capture live,
views of nature
artists strive
nothing captured quite as keen
enchanted oak and evergreen 
in a silent winter scene

Silent wonder
snow abound
casting shadows
all around
colors hidden, others seen
mood is captured quite surene
in this silent winter scene

Nature enters
in the scene
finch and kinglet
in evergreen
now the finish almost seen
paint the deer with senses keen
in this silent winter scene

Pictures painted
to convey
living nature of the day
mother nature seen pure and clean
to find what artists strive to mean
you must paint a winter scene
you must view a winter scene

SGL- 1973


Saturday, July 23, 2016

September 1976

Do you remember the fireflies
When the edge of the forest would come to life
And they’d rise to light the sky
The humid air above us,
The open fields before us
The sounds of cricket frogs from puddles
The last incessant buzz of cicadas
Everything was green
A warm safe green
when mosiquotoes
meant innocent stings
And a band-aid cured everything

Coke syrup for queezy stomachs
Mercurochrome to close all wounds
The simplicity of summer
when evening would come too soon
running the streets, the woods,
the trees
we had it all in our endless landscape
we were kings
monsters stayed safely under beds
there were heroes and fables and stories we read
the cold sweet breezes of autumn
that wonderful September day
watching with sadness, anxiety
as summer burned away

In the darkness of autumn
We grew a million years
As monsters showed their faces
And truth became our darkest fears
We grew up in one day
When dad that sailed his ship
To somewhere far away
Give me a few days
And I’ll make it all go away
Give me a few days
and we’ll be happy again

Do you remember the fireflies
The summer that followed
Or the spring
I don’t remember the sounds,
Or the colors

I don’t remember anything…

Wednesday, July 20, 2016

Wander Lust: The journey begins







































On the bottom rung,
This unknown architecture
Where climbing seems the same as coming down
Find yourself in the sky
Or digging in the ground
The apparatus is never the same
Couldn’t explain it if I tried
But it’s liquid
And it runs through me and borders us
On every side
This strange landscape
You’ll never recognize
Enthusiasm and excitement
Is the fuel you’ll need
Beware of the doubt and the negative thought
Planting
Seeds
Fly across this great expanse
With the reckless abandon
Of a feather in the wind
Watch it rise and fall
I’m ready to begin
Across this parched earth
We’ve sought ideas
That kept us awake and alive
Disconnect the oxygen
The restraints of logic and time
We’ve charted an unknown landscape
I couldn’t explain if I tried

Don’t know how to maneuver
this awkward Apparatus,
a clumsy body

a wandering mind….