Category: Poetry (Page 9 of 36)

Under the Moon

November 9, 2017 / Tom

I once heard a sparrow’s song,
“Tis me, your soul, in Spring,”
To which I replied “hello my dear,
I never did learn how to sing.”

I walked a little further til,
A flower called out in bloom,
“Won’t you come and rest here awhile,
And share a song Under the Moon?”

A man so full of wistful thoughts,
Who’s seen this life’s sunsets,
Knows the path his heart and mind must take,
From all his life’s regrets.

In the end the sparrow always leaves,
The rose, it wilts and dies,
But the man who’s learned to love again,
Forgets to say goodbye.

One day will come that final dusk,
For some it comes too soon,
But the lucky one, he got to sit,
With you Under the Moon.

~TG

Fear not, my dear, you are loved.
Though mountains may crumble as the seas toss in the throes of mindless quakes,
You are loved.
Though the angels may stop singing and the dreams may disappear,
You are loved.
For in the swirl of living melancholy you held my hand,
And I will never leave your side.

Know this, my beating heart,
That though the skies may fall and the stars may dim,
I will not falter.
For I’ve faced the demons of my mind and tended the cracks in my open heart,
Preparing for your arrival.
And though a faulted human I may be,
A warrior stands, basking in the glow as you rise above the horizon.

For in the shards of flesh I’ve left behind,
In the drops of blood and tears I’ve left to stain the footprints of my life,
I’ve always heard your whisper.
As I stand, love’s devoted sword in weathered hand,
Clear, mountain air filling my tested lungs,
I now whisper in reply.

I whisper as these fingertips write soulful messages upon your skin,
A sweet kiss placed somewhere gently, a moan echoes in reply.
My mouth follows the pathways of your heart, until, you can no longer hear a thing.
You, my drink, body quivering in its sweet repose,
Bathing in the sweat that seeps from every pore,
Knowing we have earned our time upon this sacred altar.

Love has tattooed you in me, and me in you,
Forever etched upon the annals of eternal memory,
Meshed with a solemn vow, nothing to be the same again.
Courage has opened the door to truth,
We’ve chosen to step through the threshold,
Into a room where no walls exist at all.

I shall not forget your absence as I relish the sight of you,
I will give the night its gratitude, darkest before the dawn.
There will be the testaments of an orchestra tuning up their sound before the show,
Then a silence, now in honor of the symphony we are writing,
Your heart ablaze, my soul on fire in return,
The maestro sets the tempo.

Then, a respite as we crumble to the floor,
Exhausted, love reigning down like drops from a single cloud,
A raging torrent, still and calm in its fierceness.
Truth, it seems, is like that when you’re embracing in the zenith,
Remembering the valleys down below, and the heights we’ve had to climb,
Forgetting all we’ve lost to get here.

~TG

Patient (A poem)

October 20, 2017 / Tom

Could you ever know,
How patient I have been?
Waiting in the line of life,
Trembling with anticipation,
Feeling the lost grasp but knowing still its possibility.
I trust where I am going.

Though beautiful it may be,
The flesh only excites the surface of me.
I seek the core where light is born,
The space where you truly exist,
Not singing human praises to human ears,
But whispering solemn hymns, known in parts of me that only know the sacred chants of love.

Yes, these fingertips wish to draw on you,
Raise bumps of sheer delight from your soul,
This heart wishes to touch your own,
Hear rhythm ringing through the ether like a drumbeat,
Calling out your name,
Hearing you echo in return.

I don’t miss the sand between my toes,
I have the view of thousand of steps before my eyes,
Come see it with me, like a stairway to heaven,
And know that you are found,
Alive in safety, alive in love, alive in truth,
Seeking the flame that lights the way.

I desire, and I have waited.
You may never know how patient I have been,
Stepping lightly around the potholes,
Sweetly jumping over the crevices on this path,
Resting on the jagged boulders that line the way.
Knowing that soon…

The Tale of a Life Well Lived

October 9, 2017 / Tom

The world so viewed,

Through eyes unseen,

A trinity before your god was born,

Beholden to nothing, but owed so much,

Just a babe, a basket, in a stream.

The love so held,

In longing, empty arms,

Absent all their melancholy,

Yet full of such despair,

Youth begotten in the prongs of Satan’s fork.

A darkness so strong,

Dismissed by the faintest light,

A love with rage so nullified,

A rage with love so forgotten,

A torch that guides the way.

A shadow speaks through remembered whim,

Forgotten as it plays outside the lines,

Life born, birthed by a single flame,

So living has passed by this aged shell,

Old age, a flame dimmed but still burning strong.

A light diminished, a lamp now turned to ash,

Still burns in the embers left behind,

Footsteps carved in well-hewn sand,

Once-kissed lips left to sing the song,

Abandoned memories too alive to be forgotten.

Thus the tale of life well-lived,

Death sure to come in the living prose,

The pages worn but given life eternal,

The bindings frail but the story bound forever,

The climax of a song that truly has no end.

For there was a time when you imagined me,

And I imagined you,

Where love was not made save on the fabric of our minds,

Woven tapestry left crumpled on the floor,

The truth set free by a lover’s courage.

Then we danced together in the snow,

Sharing pictures as we twirled,

Gazing into love’s own eyes,

As I entered, as you let me in,

Never leaving, even when the aged light when dim.

In that final breath, in the sincerity of our eternity,

I see those footprints in the sand,

A traveler once wandered aimlessly,

A Bedouin with ancient sand between his toes,

Now sees those footprints led to you.

Thus the tale of a life well-lived,

Love sure to cradle life in his arms,

Life sure to taste love on her lips,

A man discovered life in a woman,

A woman discovered love in a man.

Thus, the story told…

~TG

In A Dream

October 6, 2017 / Tom

There is a place where I can fly,
Where my voice remains in tune,
Where my thoughts are pure and my mind intact,
Asleep under the Harvest Moon.

Here I can do anything,
There is nothing I cannot withstand,
I can face the end of all that is,
I can even hold your hand.

The heart-shaped clouds of yesterday,
Now seen by a mountain stream,
The visions of all that ever was,
Are found living in a dream.

There is a place where we can roam,
We dance among the stars,
The mission of our greatest love,
Was born within our scars.

Here we bask in love’s sweet glow,
Destiny, our only guide,
For what we found in each other’s eyes,
Is the truth we found inside.

The urban sounds of yesterday,
Replaced by nature’s sacred screams,
For the song we now sing as one,
We first discovered in a dream.

~TG

In My Blindness Once (A Poem)

August 30, 2017 / Tom

I remember, in my blindness once,

Hearing.

It’s amazing what you can hear when you are no longer focused on the lust of the eyes,

When you are no longer driven by the thrust of curiosity.

The world shrinks, like a star collapsing upon itself.

I suddenly could hear every sound,

The machines surrounding me, sure to warn of my impending doom,

The footsteps of care making their way, screeching across the tiled floor,

The sounds of a lover sleeping gently somewhere just beyond my reach.

I could hear the moans of suffering from beyond a door I could not see,

And hear the subtle voices of concern from those surely worried about an end.

Pleading for something else,

Searching for just one more chance to say “good morning.”

I could hear the ticking of a clock,

Yet I remained unsure if that clock was hanging dutifully on a wall,

Or somehow lived within me,

Counting, silently in a circle that one day would run out of time.

I could hear the sounds of my own heart beating,

Defying the odds yet again, warning me that I had not finished,

“There is more to do, so much more to do,

Keep hearing, listening to the sounds within you, and you will find your path.”

Too often we are told, that listening means hearing yet another,

And we listen to the point where we can no longer hear ourselves,

Stand! do not fail to hear that voice that beats inside you,

Obey not them, but the magic that lives within you.

I remember, in my blindness once,

Hearing.

It’s amazing what you can hear when you are forced to finally listen.

When you are no longer distracted by the image of the flower,

You can actually hear it sing its song.

~TG

No More Heart to Give

July 31, 2017 / Tom

In the solace of my silent moments,

She asks me…

Are you leaving me?

A star explodes in the instant,

An unkindness takes to flight in the distance,

Dancing as ravens will, blocking the supernova,

Keeping me at bay.

I have never left you.

Though I’ve tried,

To play on fields not to my full liking,

To hear the song too noisy for my ears.

I have never left you,

It seems an impossibility.

For when you call me I shall come,

And when you need me you shall hardly need to whisper my name.

Then I ask of you,

Are you coming, dearest one?

Are you willing to walk through time and space,

Never wondering again?

I have never left you.

And though I walk to that other place,

You know the one…

My body heads for the valley below,

Though my heart remains with you at the summit.

I shall never leave you,

Unless it is you who fails to arrive.

For try as I might I cannot lie,

I have no more heart to give.

I Love You (A Poem)

July 20, 2017 / Tom

I softly want to remind you,
That I love you.
That to touch you is my desire,
To care for you is my hope,
To kiss you is my mountaintop,
To see you free is my dream.

I’d like to kindly tell you,
That I love you.
That to support you would be my pleasure,
To hear you laugh my joy,
To carry you when tired my strength,
To extend a hand when you have stumbled, my want.

I’d like to show you,
That I love you.
That through the moments when the storm clouds come,
And the rains pour, the hail pummels our surroundings,
You will not ride the storm alone,
We’ll both be soaked to laugh when the Sun returns triumphant.

Because it’s true…all of it.
I love you.
My heart, my soul, the sweat from my aging brow,
Is yours when you come needing my arrival.
My mind, my moments, the remnants of my aging scars,
Bow to your presence, and the empty space you fill.

Beautiful (A Poem)

July 19, 2017 / Tom

She is beautiful,

Distracting, from the mountain landscape,

Stopping my breath as I forget I need to breathe.

Stealing the Sun from my view, I absorb her upon the horizon.

She is beautiful,

Mixing with the fragrance of flowers that line our trail,

I hear her voice, silencing the songbirds in awe,

To feel her touch is to feel the hand of God Herself.

She is beautiful,

The mixture of rain and dirt has birthed such wonderful fruit,

Her tears uniting with the ether to spawn such exquisite virtue,

The stars can only hold her in such high esteem.

With her, I am beautiful,

A man whose folly has led him to such repose,

A soul who’s lived in sweet expectation,

A heart shattered to expose the truth beneath.

In her, I see the world, beautiful,

The air crisper, the sky more blue,

The waters flow clean, effortlessly down the way,

I bend my lips to drink from her recovery.

There, beside me still, beautiful

She lives either in hope or memory,

A whispered promise, a tempered prose,

I spring alive in my aloneness, found.

And it is beautiful,

A man not living on their bread alone,

A soul recognized in the heap of his distraction,

In her, that empty space that knows her name.

My Destination Still (A Poem)

July 11, 2017 / Tom

He’d heard something,

On his way to Long Bay,

Something in the tides,

Of the summer breeze,

Had changed.

He’d felt something,

On his way to her sandy shores,

A subtle shift, a wave of ecstasy,

A bit of rum left glistening,

Her lips betrayed a pirate’s treasure.

Alas, a ship moored to her pier,

Her winds softly poking at my sails,

Her waves gently lapping in my mind,

My compass points to her horizon,

But where the Sun set this bow may never kiss.

Gone forever in the raging sea,

A simple star, a sail unfurled within my passion,

Pressed upon by my desire,

Driven onward by a twist of fate unknown,

She remains my destination still.