Thursday, May 23, 2019

Clutching Bottle and Pill

Long did I clutch bottle and pill,
Friendship my aching soul to fill.
Such longing in my heart,
Their lie, mask playing a part.

I cried, I tried, to abandon their lies,
Their hold on me, a noose tied.
Free, Free, Why can't I be,
Of this hook, so deep in me.

Deep darkness, Despair, All I see,
Chained down, I want, Can't flee.
Death, Peace of death, Please cover me,
Earthen grave, My only plea.

Stretched out, Damp cold night,
Pain, Punishment, I sense is right.
In deep despair, My head hangs low,
Eyes, Tears, Capturing a glow.

Hands reach to hold my chains,
Scars, History of cruelty, Pain.
Love, Compassion, Shine from his face,
Shackles, Links, Shattering, Falling in our embrace.
tg 2-21-2011

Tuesday, May 14, 2019

An Old Piano

The old upright piano seems nestled, she wouldn't say it that way, in the debris on the side of the village street. Her top and keyboard were covered in dust and soot from diesel engines. Missing cobblestones attempt to embarrass her as one of her legs is tipping towards the rubble at her feet.

The dust and dirt on her top looks streaked as though tears ran down the angled top. Her many fingers, once bright and clean, now covered in dust try to hide the missing ivory caps on five of her fingers. Fingers that could sense the spirit of the musician even before his long and excellently manicured fingers touched hers, now they are silent.

The genius of Mozart and Bach, Chopin and Beethoven had given life to her beauty of wood and wire. The beauty and flow of the wood fibers would come alive, like the breath of divinity giving life to wood that yielded itself to the saw many years before. Now in her humiliation she gives up this life, like so many strewn around her. Will anyone mourn her passing?

This piece was the result of a photograph from WWII taken from a French village.

Wednesday, May 8, 2019

Poem- High Flight

Oh I have slipped the surly bonds of earth and danced the skies on laughter silvered wings.
Sunward I've climbed and joined the tumbling mirth of sun split clouds and done a hundred things you have not dreamed of.

Wheeled and soared and swung high in the sunlit silence. Hovering there, I've chased the shouting wind along and flung my eager craft thru footless halls of air.

Up, Up the long delirious burning blue I've topped the windswept heights with easy grace where never Lark or even Eagle flew.

And, while with silent lifting mind I've trod the high untrespassed sanctity of space. Put out my hand and touched the Face of God.

Pilot MaGee composed the poem beginning at thirty thousand feet and had it complete before he touched down. It was written on an envelope. He died later in a training accident.