grasping at words

lines form and reform as i fall asleep
i see all poems having perfect shape
but when i wake up i have to scrape
my vapid mind for words that keep
their meaning and that in the long deep
moments of thought do not attempt escape
but come together as if from a tape
put together by some beings that creep
out of the dark and steal all inspiration
returning nothing but the dark again
and filling all my head with empty clouds
yet in those hours of deepest respiration
they indicate their presence without pain
but when i wake they all turn into shrouds

the casual mention of risk

what frightens me is that the day is fine
there's a light breeze and signs of fresh green
life shooting out of the wintry earth i've been
on a journey and now i must toe the line
go under and let the dread powers combine
to mark my passage see what must be seen
and indicate to me the proper mien
that i should show what actions i refine
into some better form what signification
life has had till now the utterly natal
condition that what makes the human being
is part and parcel of our destination
it's being born you see that's truly fatal
and knowing this is just my way of seeing

ballade of the tired commuter

at some stage in our travels we come to the place
where in our journeying we change our train
for quite another where the term rat race
becomes in our eyes nothing more than the plain
statement of a kind of incandescent pain
that defines the normal human situation
still we're dry and warm and not out in the rain
and five points will be our next station

our tired beings move through time and space
each day the dragon of hard work is slain
we're in the hunt though victims of the chase
a dense dark fog seems to enfold each brain
from all this suffering not one can abstain
the whole thing marks a working life's duration
the truth of this each of us will maintain
and five points will be our next station

nothing it seems will from each mind erase
the memory nor end the bitter reign
of that which keeps our hearts from true solace
and treats each moment with a high disdain
we've got to work not one of us could refrain
from carrying out this quotidian operation
we're constantly engaged in this campaign
and five points will be our next station

prince we can't continue in this vein
when calm and serenity seem the abberation
life should be more than sweat and strain
and five points will be our next station

gift poem for nefrekhetperi

had cecil's plan come to its full fruition
you'd jump at once on cape-to-cairo train
instead from that long journey you refrain
and since his fortune went to pay tuition
for bright young sparks of notable ambition
rather a handsome garden you maintain
of native plants that thrive on little rain
it seems a major part of your life's mission
the bitter aloe's green translucent heart
would seem a symbol of both hope and life
its liquid essence making some things clear
the lily's swordlike presence plays a part
each leaf a soft and succulent green knife
and there's a freshness in the southern air

gift poem for opheliatunis

what happens when you want the time to pass
and give the best of what you have to give
to show that there's a reason here to live
is that the magazine will have no class
and the editor will turn out to be an ass
still when you need the cash you won't misgive
and the sense of opportunism you'll forgive
when the limits of those times you surpass
another place another time another city
you'll write of pirates and of other times
and social memory will become real
the answers that you give will be quite witty
and heroes be indicted for their crimes
for history's a court with no appeal

gift poem for sitkareign

the measure of a work is if it's read
by which i mean that there's a reader known
whose presence is by some measure shown
who gives my words some space in their head
from person to person the word is spread
the language is stripped down to barest bone
and given its utmost clarity of tone
without the silences of empty dread
to thank you for your presence is my theme
though who you are i cannot ever tell
it's good to know that someone is out there
to share my thought and meaning is the dream
and in the vast expanse there's a deep well
from which the living water comes out clear

gift poem for garnet-43

i read the funny verses once again
the smile that comes is thoroughly benign
the poem does not cross the well-known line
between the piquant and the reader's bane
the north pole's not located in far maine
but that's no reason there shouldn't be a sign
directing folks to father christmas' shrine
for children some things are very plain
the pictures show a quite discerning eye
the comments a presence that's kind
the writing brings to all a pleasant smile
we see the mountain against the big sky
the tension in each moment will unwind
in pleasure at the elegance of style