Category Archives: Universal Soul

May 5, 2015 · 3:28 am

The Crap They Serve

The moments hang between the stains of dusk and clinging dawn,
scratched in ageless epitaph across each verse of rhyme-less song.

The anger builds toward aging, denied the path where knowledge runs,
therein betrayed the honor owned, left to steep in fading sun.

Incredulous the false become when to their faltered minds they pray
a mount of sermons spewing, yet not a single word they say.

An age in bringing mind here, sacrifice for “working” gains,
now left behind as youthful hope, in sweat and blood, in honest stains.

So now I’ll leave the peddled path
where minds are bought for selfish lathe.
I’ll leave the future’s rotting yeast
to feed their soon encountered beast.

Into the woods and river’s berm
where hope, I pray, will fast return
to grant a peace so well deserved,
to cast to grey the crap they’ve served!

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April 14, 2015 · 3:59 am

April Dawn

Quietly, ‘neath this silenced dawn,
I pause near edge of grassy dell,
as mists arise from dewy sleep
in whispered dreams they dare not tell.

Gently, April’s morning brings
a rumor to the waxing sun,
storied rich in daffodils
gracing paths were spring fawns run.

Unobserved, I stretch to hear
the whispers light upon the air,
feel the stir of life anew
as first beams spark the dew drops there.

In humble bows the mist relents
to grant the dawn its honored throne,
led by low and bowing arcs
between the hills, across the stones
that raise their heads from lea and rill
in peaking, see what life may fill
the wooded court where men do pause
to draw their peace, repent their flaws
before the quickened rising gold…
now bathing warm, my face to hold.

So held in God’s sweet kindness,
so granted strength to see the day,
so blessed in sacred service set
between the pine and hopes I pray.

Sentinels stand around me,
robed in fir, wrapped in sun,
guarding forest’s darker moods
from spilling to this courtyard won.

First birds call in echo,
through the giant’s highest boughs,
“Amen!” they sing across the dell,
embracing hope within the vows
spoken in this April dawn.

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April 13, 2015 · 3:47 am

Aye

The distance calls in reverie,
seducing dreams to future shores,
yet echoes tombs of loneliness
till death become its oars.

No passage can be seen,
no step is placed through surf and sand,
no payment pulled from empty pockets
will cast a rope beyond this land.

But aye! the dream continues.
Aye! the heart pulls hopes along.
Aye! the future’s glorious,
where soon I will belong.

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March 30, 2015 · 3:12 am

The Cobblestone Path

Along this cobbled path I find a peace of mind beneath an arc of wooded shade that calms the day, grants a cool and welcomed dark.
The city, all but gone here, echoes histories’ whispered tones of carriages culled in laughter midst heavy hooves upon the stones.
No rush of time betrays this scene, as slowly drifts this path, eternal.
Horizon calls a timeless point where all resolves, green and vernal.
Memories sung herein, seduce, threaded through each moment’s play, entreating peace and longing ‘tween every step along the way.
Just few I find, my passersby, acknowledge silent solace too, with gentle nods and hidden smiles upon the cobblestone and view.
I pray my heart be caught within as whispered soul enrapt in peace.
I pray this wooded shade of summer holds me fast in sweet release.

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March 25, 2015 · 1:53 am

Eternal Rider

Towards setting sun I strike a pose
in chase of dusk’s last errant kiss,
clinging tight to hope, disposed,
dreaming in the sweetest bliss
of light remembered,
touch recalled,
duty bound while love enthralled
across an ochre meadow, this.

Barley wisps ignite the lea
crowned in long ray’s amber fire,
blinding what I strive to see,
as stirrups stretch in raising higher
to glimpse the spark,
lift the veil,
find my love across this dell,
there chance to win her arms, retire.

Eternity my shortest day
hath called me from the tomb and grave
to burden deep my soul to stay,
to ride upon eternal wave
of amber field,
of setting sun,
to nearly see the face, the one
who’s love I couldn’t save.

Toward dusk I strike a hopeful pose,
dreaming of her one last kiss,
belay a sudden scent of rose
to carry home my heart, remiss
of pain endured,
beyond the tide,
at dream within this errant ride,
across this golden meadow’s bliss…

Eternally I ride…

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February 27, 2015 · 4:44 am

Back Against This Wall

Back against this wall…

This alley in remission from evening’s shallow light that casts the neon’s echo ‘cross the puddled rain here left in flight. The creeping of the city’s poise, stagnant, yet repelling the every moment stood before, captured melancholy, telling of the brick so stacked behind my back, its story never told, of tears in lonely crying dealt amidst the thieves, amidst the throes of life, of death, of every moment painted black… I lean against this wall succumbed by all the world, by all the lack.

Into my very soul it pours, every bottle, every poor soul that claimed a moment’s home between the puddles, against the loam of what the city so disgusts, but bends to truth and hides in trust that such is never seen. I lean against this wall, now mean. I feel the bullet holes here left, where souls caught glimpses of their death. I smell the acrid bloom of fear and echoed running footsteps hear… to justice? to ends? to whatever’s left of soul’s lost friends…?

Behind the madness of my mind I feel the thrum and so go blind to all the hopes here swimming round, adrift within this dying ground… this dying ground, is it? I write it lest I should forget. My shadow crosses fast before the falling neon lights in roar glanced across the puddles’ rent where only living’s death is spent, and so I to my own.
Back against this wall, alone.

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January 27, 2015 · 4:48 am

Lost Words

Orphans

Ink on ink, stacks of words, lines bent from my mind in haste,
well in wretched motion’s scent within the pile of blotter’s waste.
Denied the spark of light to find a useful purpose where they lay,
lepers of my orphans, renounced to shelves of dim decay.
The dust of ages crack their binds, fermented time lends ochre’s brand
infusing dim their history upon neglected pages, tanned.

Why do they still remain there?
What purpose can they ever fill?
Whose eyes will ever read them?
What holds them in my ebbing will?

My orphans calmly line the shelf, at peace in holding nodding thoughts
that stem form frozen moments summed when grand solutions aptly caught
the hope to bend an errant mind, the rush to solve the world’s woes,
the drive to change, create such love that ecstasy would roll in throes…
Science, math, and cultures gripped. Politics of hatred delved.
Invention, story, fiction, truth all gathered through the ink, there shelved.

In some I rarely venture a visit through their ashen sparks.
Others, I’ve not the courage yet to reach or touch their pages, dark.
But yet they are my orphans, my hopeful babes, my lepers scarred.
For by my hand became here, and by my hand stay safely barred.

I pity those who find them beyond the last of breath in me.
I pray they’ll not destroy them, yet maybe let just some fly free.

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January 21, 2015 · 5:42 am

This Aging Garden Gate

Hung in hesitation’s poise,
this iron gate denies no friend,
creaks and clangs in phrase of welcome
whenever one walks in.

Here amidst the cold stone wall,
now overgrown in moss and vine,
hangs this aging garden gate,
held to dress this walk, quite fine.

Beneath the years of layers black
in sacred paint applied in trust,
cracks the skin of age and wear
exposing blisters filled with rust.

The slapping latch is worn quite thin.
Her angles softly sagging.
The spring to bring her closed again
strains beneath her weight, just lagging.

Yet through this temporal portal streams
the futures past in longing dreams.
Through her kindest stance has come
the sweetest loves, the greatest sums
of all a man desires…
…angels swept in summer dress…
…devils danced in fire…

Through her constant threshold drifted
words of war, hopes of peace,
worries of life’s certain failings,
prayers for a sweet release.

Now as I, with aging hand,
caress her subtle arabesque,
I quietly gather dreams recalled,
some living, most at rest.

Oh dear friend, my fortunes flowed
across your gentle grace,
calmly calling to this path
that since has aged this place.

Once more I pull her toward me,
my life resounds her echoed call
that soon our futures beckon
toward the fade, toward the fall.

God bless you little gate,
my colored life’s been marked in time
by gracious clangs and creaking,
so set, by you, to living’s rhyme.

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January 14, 2015 · 10:29 pm

Follow Your Dream!

What stands against our perseverance unfolding from a hoped success?
What calls a man to hesitate in second glance and second guess?
What drives the winds of challenge to bend us back onto ourselves?
What hearkens to the failures stacking dreams on dusty shelves?

Is there such that keeps from us the dreams we strive to dream?
Are there really fateful blows rending fault within the scheme?
Can it be that such denies God’s purpose within us rent?
Must a life placated be to only walk the path that’s sent?

Hearken not to such blind passion that pulls the grave so ever near!
Follow not the empty echoes that call you home when most you fear!
Stand to face the triumph waiting beyond the hell that you must pay!
Step beyond the trepidation that pulls you, tugs you, scars your way!

For ne’er a lie, nor hope’s descent would be from God in purpose lent.
Ne’er denied a dream applied that from His will came our intent.

Steady long the weary hand that draws the dream from burden’s lading!
Gather strength in spirit steeped upon the path in trials’ trading.
Lash the beam onto the dream that pulls from deep within you.
Follow fast in courage clasped within the heart of soul that’s true.

Follow your dream!

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December 9, 2014 · 5:36 am

Peace on Earth, Good Will Toward Men

Crystal white in starlight’s gaze that peaks between the falling snow,
whispers sweet a Christmas song, upon a rhythm deep and slow…
It gathers in the spirit, resounds within the soul,
builds to bring a chorus strong of peace in phrases sweet and whole…
of peace on earth, good will toward men.

It forms upon the children’s faces, rosy nosed and smiling bright.
It comes with every passerby that quietly shies delight.
It falls from heaven in silence. It gathers round a fire and friends.
It sings a hushing hallelujah and to us all it sends…
Peace on earth, good will toward men.

But can it be that peace is gone when hope seems far and hatred strong?
Can it be that God is dead when peace of men has gathered dread?

But oh! The bells of Christmas ring, Oh! The chorus still does sing!
Within the hearts of every man when to this blessed season stand
and count the truth that God does live! Count the blessings that we give,
when to the children we take hands, when to our hatred turn to stand
and hear that whispered song start low, feel the choir around us grow!
When to our better angels lend and through our gentle spirits mend…
this peace on earth, good will toward men.

(inspired by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow – Christmas Bells)

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