Tag: poem

My Place in the Desert

As our feet slowly sink into the sand,
And it squirms into the the cracks of our shoes,
The wind tries to blow us from where we stand,
And the sun pays off its last daily dues.
I can feel the grit filling up my teeth,
And my eyes sting from the wind’s and sun’s burn.
I can find a resolve from underneath
As why I’m on the dune ready to learn.
For it is only here when I’m alone,
I can contemplate things of great import
That this great expanse of grain was once stone;
Nature wished it to be another sort.
Where will the wind send me when I am done?
Will I still feel the warmth of the sun?

The Turning of the Page

We all know that it must come to an end
Even though we try to fight against it,
But this is not a rule that you can bend,
And we must allow the moment to quit.
It will open us to us something new
Though that might be something that is scary,
But these opportunities are so few
That we should not allow them to tarry.
Instead we should look towards their embrace
As if fate even gave us an option;
It might be better what it does replace,
Only if we could seek out its intention.
We may think it something we nurture,
But nobody can predict our future.

Westvleteren 12

The bottles have been stored behind the bar,
Waiting for the moment to pop the top.
The aroma will tell tales from afar
Of the history of the Trappist crop.
It must be poured into its holy grail;
Its crown will be a creamy head of foam.
The watering of your mouth will curtail
The last destination of the beer’s home.
It will travel to your table by tray,
Becoming the coaster’s guest of honor.
When the first sip finally comes to play,
The complexity will make you ponder.
The tradition has endured the ages
Without it ever changing its stages.

The Great Debate

In the spirit of our competition,
I will cross the stage so I can shake your hand.
The audience has some expectation
That our exhibition will be so grand.
To see who goes first, we will flip a coin;
The other will pick the side they will take.
Ideas we’ll explore; clashes we’ll join
Will bring us to an agreement we’ll make.
Though it may seem like we are in a fight,
There is a greater purpose happening.
We will find a compromise that is right
That comes about from all this explaining.
The purpose for us to participate,
To learn what is right from our great debate.

The Rhino

I just wish to live a life that’s simple,
Roaming the plains from where I was born,
But there are those that look at my pimple,
Thinking it’s not right for me to adorn.
So I have to spend my days in hiding,
Keeping careful watch for these greedy men.
My problem is my eyes are short-sighting,
Making it hard to see where I have been.
This gives the advantage to the hunters,
Creeping nearby me in the undergrowth.
I will never know about their saunters,
Thinking of a tree as neither and both.
That’s why I keep secret my location,
Keeping horns safe from another nation.

Unraveling

It will only take a tug on the thread
Before another one will come undone,
And soon on the ground, gathered in a bed,
Will be left a weaving that was once spun.
Focusing on one not to pull and pick
Will leave someone else to give a try,
Doing nothing big, just a little flick,
Allowing the rest of it to comply.
You run over there before it’s too late,
But that will leave other idle hands free,
A battle ‘gainst inevitable fate
For a carpet that’s never meant to be.
Still you do your best to clean up the mess
As a model of calm under duress.

Departure

It is time for us to say our goodbyes
While standing in the middle of the road.
I laugh at how our time together flies,
And our time apart bears a heavy load.
As we stand at the gate for departures,
Me with my bag firmly in my hand,
To me, a stark revelation occurs:
These moments have a limited demand.
But I have to live with the choices made,
And engage within the fare thee well hug,
And though my emotions, right now, are frayed,
I pass it off with a casual shrug.
You may not think I saw the tear you shed,
‘Cause I was busy with my own instead.

The Vikings

We have made our home across the black sand
Where we have beached our sea-faring vessel.
We hold the might to tame this bitter land
By using resources for our castle.
The lava stone will build a mighty wall
That will frighten away our enemies,
And if they pursue an untimely fall,
We can cut down this forest of pine trees.
From their wood we can fashion pointy spears
That will give it a formidable sight.
We can project an atmosphere of fear
When we yell from the rampart with our might.
Our renown from these hills will always ring,
And they will know that we are the Vikings.

The Aisle

It takes courage to walk across the aisle
To make the best out of what you work with.
We often complain that it’s not our style;
It might change the character of our pith.
But we should not buy that superstition;
Instead, look into the fear that we hold
Because we will always avoid that migration
Because we do not wish to be so bold.
When we make that walk something great happens
That benefits more than just our ego,
Instead we get to see the grateful grins
On the ones who we’re supposed to help grow.
Why did you start this job in the first place?
Was it so you could see their smiling face?

The Land of the Midnight Sun

As the sun finishes another lap
In the northern sky, I watch the shimmer
Of its light glimmer on the ocean’s sap.
I know the night will only get dimmer,
So I can sit out here a bit longer,
And from my well deserved drink, take a sip.
As a distant brewing storm gets stronger,
And threatens to give the air a sharp nip,
I will breathe in deeply this last moment
As I wait for its coming arrival.
For the sun in the sky has not been spent;
I will bear witness to its survival.
What else can I do on this grassy shore,
But enjoy the scene that’s been laid before?