Allegory Poems (898)

Well, I read the evening paper
And it scared me near in two,
With its column-long palaver
About the world to do.

Seems there's little wars all over,
And crimes and violence--
And you know I got to thinking
That it surely makes no sense.

Why should neighbor shoot at neighbor
And countries rattle swords?
I'm sure they've all forgotten
That this whole big world's the Lord's.

Why, HE made the sun to warm us,
And the evenings just for rest,
And the mountains filled with grandeur,
And mankind filled with zest.

And HE made a horse to ride on,
And hills to ride him through;
A star-filled night to dream on,
And a wealth of things to do!

Well, I'd just like to tell the generals
And Presidents and such,
That if they'd just cut out the haggling
And get back into touch

With the things that God intended...
Like the beauty of the day,
Or the murmur of the forest
Or the smell of new mown hay.

If they'd just look at all the wonder
Of nature all around,
And perhaps they'd stop all their feudin'
And we'd all have peaceful ground.

Caught once again in the current of a shifting tide
Helpless and hopeless I will hang on for the ride
Life's a series of choices only we can decide
So let our inner consciousness be our guide
Remember what happens when two worlds collide
Be careful whatever and to whomever we confide
Or we could find ourselves going on a crazy hayride
And it really won't always be a good joyride
So be extra careful what we think we feel inside
Consider thoughfully all the upsides and downsides
Sometimes it's not so bad to be careful and hide
What we trust in our hearts: Only love can provide

Sitting, waiting for the dawn to break
Blank my mind, for the days take

Turning yet another page in my year
I sit and calmly wait, and stare.

The suns rays I see just peeking
The heat of the day promised, leaking

How long should I sit in my peaceful state?
Before moving and joining my days fate

Life's daily adventure begins anew
So standing up, and right on que

I felt spots of rain upon my face
Laughing at this turn of pace

I run to get undercover
None of it was a bother

I take in my new day with relish
I vow nothing will make me perish

I AM
this legal alien
feeling unsettled
like a pen with no ink;
car without an engine;
jockey without a horse;
child without a parent;
house without a roof;
infirm without a bed;
boat without an anchor;
pet without an owner;
plane without a pilot;
bike without wheels;
pot without a plant;
spring without water;
Like a tree without roots;
feeling unsettled
this legal alien
I AM

twas a time of fresh worn innocence, eighteen years of age, and the writ of my experience fell short upon the page, ragged as a student who had never eaten warm, come in she said and welcome.. to the ladies dorm

hardly out of smallburg, green as an apple tree, two dinner plated startled eyes and jeans without a knee, as beauty slept in rapture behind oaken doors forlorn, come in she said and welcome.. to the ladies dorm

my recollection hazy, of how I slept that night, unable to articulate my thought with my delight, they made a man of me, strengthening my form, come in she said and welcome.. to the ladies dorm

breakfast at the table, my eyes fixed to my spoon, with a dozen or so sirens, laughing at my swoon.. and the scent of what I felt heaven was, seemed to be the norm, come in she said and welcome.. to the ladies dorm

thirty summers later, wife and family too, I chanced on to return there, my memories to renew, said the angel of prosperity, three decades on her form.. come in she said and welcome.. to the ladies dorm

she looks at me

dark hair runs down the corridor of her shoulder, still warm from the last shot of whiskey, her words stop me cold:

"You know big fella.. when your belly is full and your lust is emptied, when malt dances in and out of that coastline you call a brain.. you can pull down your awnings.. but it won't change the stock in the store.."

I was married once, but like the frontiers men of old, I failed to find any tracks in the female heart.. a might too wild for settled living, and a might crazy for thinking same, left me a man of casual arrangement with the fairer sex, and that suited both parties just fine.

I'm telling you the water is wet, because that's just the way it is. What you do with such information, I don't rightly care. I'm setting the road for my own horse.

The trail is hard, brutal. It sculpts rigor on you. You learn fast or die. Sometimes, folk learn fast AND die. I never claimed life was fair.. "fair" is a made up word, designed to take the edges off.. just as you need an edge.. to make it past something.

I caught a glimpse once of what God might have seen as I crested a hill.. and watched below a mass of wagon and beast, weave a dark score on the trail.

regular wages, to me.. was a mortgage I could never accept..

you did a job.. you saw it through to the end.. you got a lump sum.. and you moved on..

food tasted better, the colours changed, women wore new smiles.. and memory slept in the last place.

I hobble tie the horse and make a fire..

A coyote fights the moon.. he seems to know a horrible truth that none of us has figured out yet

I think of all the great women I've known.. the ones that furnish my memories..

the kiss from an unexpected beauty that soars over all that offered you everything..

I dream. Not always bad. Sometimes I smile an unconscious smile..

I dream..
that in all this death
in all this darkness
in all this hardship..

there's a flower growing in a place no earthly flower should grow..

and when I get to it, it will smell like her kiss tasted..

I was never
taught
how music's
sold and bought

all I know
is every girl
I ever knew
had lyrics.. but never you

girl you are
a celtic air
a blend of strings
when no-one's there

no need for lines
nor lyrics wrote
a warmth beyond
a thing you'd quote

I see the words
of girls I knew
fade amongst
the morning dew

I hear your strings
at evening's fade
your head sleeps on
my shoulder blade

old boats they can charm
any ocean
fibreglass lord knows
runs afoul

and for every
newsflashy gimmick
there's a hundred year handcrafted dowel

see I do not blame
you woman
for quitting
on summer's depart

see you can't
expect a lion in winter
from the owner
of an average heart

some women
sail when it's easy
some women
take on all tides

for every man
on a deck feeling queasy
there's a port
where a true one resides

now I don't doubt
you woman
you'll find another man
on your chart

all that I do know
is that for certain
he'll be the owner
of an average heart

some varnish it cracks
in the setting
some paint
it will outlast time

some women know the man
they are getting
some women are as weak
as the brine

me I'll go out
in all weather's
see I found a french vessel
at mart

and she's strong in the ways
that you weren't
and she's the owner
of a savage ol' heart

we tracked it with technology
we fixed a tracing ring
in the hope of reading data
the haunted click to sing

we followed her in boats
she pitched a role to play
we watched her shoal a stanza
as time zones fell away

she beached in California
a thousand souls did track
in a sea of rhyming couplets
love just brought her back

her enigmatic measure
a pen as gambler's stake
once I thought she smiled at me
as eye did surface break

all currents are concurrent
all hungers grow with sate
all equals carry conscience
all actions carry fate

the new fleets of media
near hunt her to the brink
yet she thrives
where no man dives

a thirst beyond a drink

Is it wrong to fall? To expend one's potential as drawn to what one may not alter to only flail at guidance? The gravity of choices inexorable to defend against?