Tag: Poetry

The Mighty River

Do not take the river’s might for granted,
For it has spent years carving this valley.
It’s hard to follow what it has ranted
As it rushes out to the distant sea,
But if you stand upon its muddy banks,
And pause from your busy day to listen,
The river will regale honestly frank
Tales of how the pride of men it’s taken.
They have tried to dance upon its rapids
In flimsy boats carved out of hollow wood,
And though its rage absolutely forbids
The challenges these men thought they could,
Boats and men have both cracked in disarray
And the river flows mightily this day.

No Tech

We have left our technology behind
And ventured out into society
To see if we could start to be more king.
It’s what it really means to be hands free.
It starts with a little conversation
As we probe into each other’s thinking.
There might be some cause for hesitation
To see if our deep beliefs are linking.
We poke and prod trying to uncover,
From the people we are getting to know,
If we can handle what we discover
Will agree with our opinions also.
We will find with this quality time spent
That we are really not that different.

Arcs

A dark blight has settled upon the Reach
And we’re scrambling for what’s left behind.
We will use ev’rything from war to speech,
Securing a position for our kind.
We can only claim it as ambition
Whether we are a tyrant or warlord,
But Space will not be a destination,
And out here we live by our own accord.
There is a court that has a little sway
Over the direction that we can take,
And if you ambassador came to play,
There is a deal with them that you can make.
We are trying to leave behind our marks
That can be rewtold in our story arcs.

The Turn Around

We were planning to go across the bay
To enjoy a restaurant we knew there.
Uber was meant to help us on our way,
And we could sit back not giving a care.
But we ran into a little traffic
On the only road getting out of town,
And a return trip may be horrific,
So we asked the car to turn around.
He dropped us off not far where we started,
And we found another kitchen to dine.
We questioned if we should have departed
In order to save an amount of time.
It just showed that life can be unfair,
Taking a car trip that led to nowhere.

Ballestas

So what if our shit covers the island?
Who are you to say we are animals?
We did not ask you to invade our sand
With your strict demands and obnoxious rules.
We find comfort with the way that we live,
Free from the judgment delivered by man.
We were not the ones who were asked to give
To contribute to economy’s plan;
We were just looking for rocks to hop on
Away from the watchful eyes of people,
So we like to strut on these rocks with brawn,
Claiming these crags have become our steeple.
We only ask that you stay far away
From this island outside Paracas Bay.

The Walk by the Bay

It may not be the fanciest of walks
With its bricks being worn by the weather,
Leaving behind potholes and broken chalk
Which visitors will never let gather.
Vendors will be willing to show menus
Of their food that’s the same as those before.
Through their big speakers blaring out the blues
Makes me feel like I know what is in store;
It invokes in me, a place far away.
In the sea air, the spoken word of Spain
Is the communication that’s in play,
And causes my normal banter refrain.
Still, it is nice to be here with my drink;
I wish to make the final spoken link.

Fishing Village

The salt air will never erode away
That this town continues to operate.
Both of us are always going to stay;
We will figure how to co-habitate.
It will eat at the corrugated steel
That gives us shelter from wild weather,
But we know that the rusted roofs will heal
When they are replaced to overexposure.
The warped wood is part of our city’s charm
That only the outside will notice.
When they say something they do not mean harm;
The longer you live here, the more you miss.
I enjoy life in this fishing village
At the edge of the continental stage.

The First Sea

Mountaintops peek out from a sea of ice
Hoping to survive from its greedy bite,
Knowing time will enact the ice’s price.
They know they cannot win against this fight,
So they will still stand while they are able
Before the slow advance breaks them apart,
Leaving behind a pile of peeble
Flowing down where the ocean will start.
It is here the mountain becomes the sand
And the glacier turns into the water
Reuniting upon a distant land
That neither of them had thought to charter.
Will they ever return to that first sea
That is dying because of you and me?

The Return

When the final scallop has been eaten
And I’ve mopped up the spicy sauce with bread;
When the volcano top has been beaten,
Just so I could disprove what you had said;
After the kayak has been put to shore
From skimming out to a calving glacier;
After we have visited the gift store
We are forced to see on a museum tour;
When the mementoes are in the cases
That we have purchased without much thinking;
When we have gotten rid of all traces
In hotels where our butts had been sinking;
With the memories of this holiday,
We can return to our regular fray.

Snowbird

Winter storms have covered the land in snow,
And the chilly winds have kept folks indoors.
They have to shovel if they wish to go
To any of the restaurants or stores,
But they wish to stay away from the slop
That coats roads in an obstacle course
Where sometimes they are unable to stop,
And physics operates in a new force.
If only they could get away from there
Where winter is a distant memory,
A warm place with a desert atmosphere
With a pool under a stand of palm trees.
It’s a lifestyle they might not have heard,
Leaving cold behind to be a snowbird.