December 9, 2016 in Coping, Poetry, Reflections
December 8, 1980
John,
your soul is
a beam of light
shooting across the universe
while
down here
we twist and writhe
in the straight jacket of our grief
will we?
can we ever
Imagine again?
12/08/16
Danny Faragher
June 8, 2016 in Happenings, Poetry, Reflections, Thoughts
the dancer
out of breath and behind the beat,
pushing hard to make my way,
like a dancer looking at his feet
I often stumble through the day.
so unlike that ‘parallel me’ who
completes each task with style and verve,
and coolly knocks it out of the park
when life throws him a wicked curve.
but sometimes when I’m flat on my face,
feeling as though I can’t get through it,
the other guy turns to wave me on, saying
‘hey, man! c’mon, you can do it!’
June 1, 2016 in Happenings, Nature's Backyard, Poetry, Reflections, Thoughts
‘Open the Door’ – From the ‘Dancing with the Moment’ album.
verse 1
Hear the morning breeze that’s rattling the window
Feel the waking sun peep through the blinds
Lost in a daydream Thoughts so far away
But aware of how the ‘here and the now’
Is slipping away
verse 2
Smell each steaming drip of coffee a’brewing
Watch the bob and weave of birds in the air
Lost in reflection
A million miles away
But hearing the bell and knowing full well
We’ve only today
So come out and play
chorus
Open the door and step outside
Step outside
There’s such a world to share
So open up the door and step outside
verse 3
Lost in a memory
Of good things left undone
But hearing the chime and knowing that time
Waits for no one
To dance ‘neath the sun
Chorus
Open the door and step outside
Step outside
There’s such a world to share
So open up the door
Open the door and step outside
Step outside
There’s such a world to share
Outside
Step outside
Open the door and step outside…
About the writing of Open the Door
The music came first. At the time I had been immersing myself in Brian Wilson’s ‘Pet Sounds’ and the soaring melody
reflects that. Lyrically, I wanted to write something that had an almost child like innocence to it. It’s simply about tuning
into life – being a dreamer but engaging the world. Greeting the morning as if it were the first (or the last). Life is a miracle.
Open the door and embrace it.
Love and Harmony
Danny Faragher
May 15, 2016 in Happenings, Poetry, Reflections, Thoughts
Birthday Poem
eyes open from a dream
Sunday morning
sleeping in.
a lawnmower is humming
think I’ll stay put awhile
let my thoughts swirl
and meander where they will
I can hear the drumming
of tiny feet as squirrels
chase across the roof
today begins my
sixty-ninth year
(funny how the number
still evokes an
adolescent chuckle
or, perhaps,
even a
secret
sigh)
oh god!
am I really that old?
hey!
a number is a
number is a
number. just an
arbitrary slice,
an artificial notch
on the wall
outside,
the world
beckons
through my second floor window
the sky hangs clear and blue
above the gabled rooftops
but peace is abruptly broken –
a crow flying from tree to
wire displaces and troubles
a pair of mourning doves.
his victory caw ricochtets
through the neighborhood
I laugh out loud
easy to forget
how good it feels
just to be alive
an urge compels me
to mark this moment.
to transform the
nonverbal into words
to turn water into wine
I close my eyes
and slowly
let the bucket
drop down
into the
well
inspiration is a
touchy process. it
resists a needy mind
one must be coy,
feign indifference but be
ever at the ready…
ah, the payoff
suddenly, words begin
to flutter by like
butterflies on the wing
most of them will vanish down
the hole where my forgotten
passwords sleep
but I will manage to
snatch a few
slowly,
steadily,
out of chaos
an image takes shape.
like a torch lit pictograph
on a cavern wall
a poem begins to emerge
I must run down stairs
write it down
capture it,
nurture it
savor it
May 15, 2016
Photos by Charlotte Olivea McClain
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!’
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
