April 20, 2016 in Coping, Happenings, Poetry, Thoughts
sanity
the shattered glass reflects
a thousand images
where lies reality?
the ordered world breaks down
into a random spray of neurons
matter over mind
free radical chaos
sanity is a dangling rope
reach out, grab it and
hold on for dear life
April 15, 2016 in Happenings, Poetry, Reflections, Thoughts
Sweet Persuasion
sometimes on a sleepless night
the elusive muse appears before me
and with seductive charm implores me
in sweet persuasion I can’t fight
she reaches out to extend the touch
of fingertips beneath my chin
and gently lifts my gaze to hers
to command with whisper – ‘Write!’
April 4, 2016 in Coping, Happenings, Poetry, Thoughts
Invisibility
they call them the ‘wee’ hours,
but when enveloped in their dark cover
one breathes the severed solitude of the ‘I’
the bed creaks under my rustle and turn
a dog barks in the neighborhood,
sharp spears of sound pierce the night.
do keen ears detect an intruder?
perhaps he fears invisibility,
dreads disappearing into the inky gloom
and is announcing to the universe
a confirmation of his existence –
‘I bark therefore I am’
I fight the urge to open the window
stick out my head and
join my canine friend in primal cry
– See more at: http://www.dannyfaragher.com/category/poetry/coping-poetry/#sthash.5Da20uY0.dpuf
March 20, 2016 in Coping, Happenings, Poetry, Reflections, Thoughts, Uncategorized
lady death is always there
she rides in the shotgun seat
we are fellow travelers
though my gaze is fixed on the road
and our eyes have never met
her figure looms in my periphery
between us there is an awkward silence
how does one break the ice?
can’t chat about the weather with death
(man, talk about an elephant in the room)
the white lines are racing by
but with my companion
there is no closure
no shedding of light
sometimes, though,
out of nowhere
she purses her lips
and whistles a
haunting tune – the
melody strange,
mysterious,
but, oddly,
familiar
January 17, 2016 in Happenings, Poetry, Reflections, Scrolling Back, Thoughts, Uncategorized
Manassas Battlefield
Photo by Bryan Faragher
a forest,
turning red and gold,
keeps solemn watch
in the chill October air
the last vestiges of daylight
begin their retreat from the
rolling field below
high above,
the agitated sky
swirls and tumbles in a
boiling mix of blue and gray
a row of cannons,
perched on the high ground,
is melting into the dark.
the bronze barrels that once
belched point-blank horror
into a sea of humanity
are now mute
cold to the touch
beneath a green turf
the ground slumbers
but it is the sleep
of the traumatized
the fitful sleep
of the wounded
I tread softly
on a hot summer day
a century and a half ago
this was the most violent
spot on the planet
under clouds of acrid smoke
young men in itchy wool
clutched their weapons
and marched into this
field… this
valley of death
in the opening act of a
national tragedy
I ponder…
the wound still festers
the divide still stands
the promise of a
‘new birth of freedom’
still a work in progress
I see figures in the distance
beyond the edge of grass
standing in the knee-high straw
an African-American bride and
groom are exchanging vows
she in white dress
he in black tux
the pastor pauses,
closes his book
and looks up
to nod and smile
the man and woman turn
to face one another
and falling into
each other’s arms
they embrace
and plant
a loving
kiss
01/17/16
January 8, 2016 in Happenings, Poetry, Reflections, Scrolling Back, Thoughts
Elvis
lips in a snarl,
hips a-swiveling,
Elvis leaped from the
black and white box and
into the nation’s living room,
bopping and shimmying
like a Mississippi catfish
and in his unassuming
backwoods way
this poor boy
ripped to shreds
that buttoned down,
zipped up facade that posed
as the American dream
to the stick up the ass-
jim crow- bomb obsessed-
are you now or have you
ever been…? world
he proclaimed –
‘let’s get real , real
gone fer a change’
and oh…
did we ever
Thanks, Elvis
Happy Birthday!
January 8, 2016
January 6, 2016 in Coping, Poetry, Reflections, Scrolling Back, Thoughts, Uncategorized
Grief
connection cut
but connection still felt
her presence is all around –
the strands of hair in an idle brush,
a smiling snapshot on the dresser top,
a note found stashed in a coat pocket
he roams from room to room
reaching out in vain, trying to
penetrate the empty space
she left behind
the walls mock him with the
echo of his own weeping
grief has no expiration date
it does not diminish or subside, but
flows like an underground stream,
carving out new caverns of being
and flooding to the surface now and again
with a startling paroxysm of tears
but the sun rises and sets
life scrolls on
one copes,
learning to live with grief
just as one learns to tolerate
a pain in the joint or
to tune out a ringing in the ears
January 3, 2016 in Happenings, Poetry, Reflections, Thoughts
the new year
twisting through the turn-around
to soar into a brand new chorus
‘ah, take it again , boys!’
another twelve bars await invention
the groove beckons
the ivory keys entice
inviting all to jam with the
harmony of the spheres
Photos by Charlotte McClain
September 28, 2015 in Nature's Backyard, Poetry, Reflections, Uncategorized
blood moon rising
breaking through cover
of cloud
bearing earth’s shadow
upon its face
like a proud scar
then free – it looms large
commanding the night sky,
illuminating the upturned
faces below
September 25, 2015 in Coping, Poetry, Scrolling Back, Thoughts
cry, dark cloud
let your tears rain down
upon me
weep, dark sky
unfold your shroud to
cover my sorrow
sigh, deep, rhythmic sea
exhale your misty breath
against my being
to wash my soul
and comfort me
