At the Side of the Years, Page 2
Daniel Hargrove
that her love will not fade as quickly
as it began...
I love her.
I cannot say how
this is so.
Already, and truly, and always.
Perhaps she feels the same...
would that I could believe it were so.
If she could know my soul throughout
would she call for me in the night?
I am a feather who drifts on the breezes...
I am a moonstruck teenage girl...
I am a bitter ale, and black licorice...
I am a forest fire, and a walking cane...
Falling Page
Chase a pillow 'round the sleepy children
or wonder at the missing coriander
Wrestle with the shadow of a mirror
Glimmer like the endless starry heavens
Trickle like the glaciers falling water
Bended like the willow in the wind
Cracking like the fire's sparky shining
Open like the bible's yellow pages
Doubting that the wisdom came from sages
Holding closely all that really matters
Barter with the monkeys for bananas
Meddle with the safely guarded secrets
Changing is the function of the seasons
Aging is the passing of the patter
Dying is the wordless scent of treason
Darkness is the moon's impressive thunder
If all you were was a drop or two of water
And the world were just expanse of endless ocean
Being lost would forever seem familiar
And your only rest would be the freezing winter
The Passage
Snow faerie lie with me
on a carpet of green moss;
sample the spring
though the jays protest
I will wish you a bright orchid
for a meandering moment
crawling like a bright blue beetle
up your high willow;
tangled like a greensnake
in your branches
Share this bread and honey
and my flask of sweet burgundy,
then nested under branches
we'll delve the fond reach
of new growth
Leave your white dress on the limb
and escape like a trickle of snow water
into the season of robins
Let's walk very slowly
to that far off onyx game...
hares scamper at our approach
The melody of sunlight through the leaves
whispers of your bold arrival
Spill and rush around stones...
fill my thirsty cup...
find my deepest roots
or fall in drops from the sky
A Tough Nut to Crack
Incomplete jigsaw
Missing key to lock
Windows nailed shut
Broken spring in clock
No door in doghouse
No holes in fence
Unrestrained aggression
Feebleminded sense
Reflection in a shadow
Missing teeth on saw
Tempo of confusion
Incomprehensible law
Like promises on bibles
Water on the fires
Truth is truth to wise men
Truth is lies to liars
Forgetting the eternal
Foolish to the wise
How is it we fail to see
The blindness in our eyes
In Shine and Shadow
Winding path that leads through the woody grasses to the cliff's edge, beaten by deer...
Beating heart of a newborn baby...
Arrow's flight quick and whispering to the eye...
Fallen tree trunk that waits for travelers, there...
Passionate kisses of the mythic lovers, embracing...
Moon rising in a sky so starry and deep...
Forgiving rainbow enfolded in clouds and cerulean...
Death of a rabbit, fallen to the hunter's aim...
Eyes caught by tears of a paper promise...
Rain falling for days and days...
Rose's dilemma, cut and watered in a vase...
Swearing of hearts, chosen in a dove's hour...
Prayer of a child, that goes on and on for hours...
Tree struck by lightning, once a treehouse's home...
Sad explanation of the death of a mother so loved...
Whispered secret, face flush with embarrassed giggle...
Fear bourne out, letter with ink running...
Step after step, into another long morning...
Kite flying high in the hand of a lonely child...
Skinny lost puppy, wandering streets, never home...
No.
Just, no.
Especially if it has to do with money.
And don't ask again.
'Cause I'll give you the same answer.
No.
By the way,
I'm open to compromise.
You give a little,
I'll give a little.
But the answer is still no.
N-O, no.
I might say yes.
But that would require
Some doing on your part.
Give me three good reasons
Why I should say yes.
No?
No.
Okay, alright.
You do have a point,
I'll admit.
It is a little unfair,
I'll admit.
Do you have anymore questions?
'Cause I've got one for you.
No.
Never
If you tried a little harder
and saw the seeds you've sown
then you would have eternal...
but your time is not your own
If you thought for many hours
and found a way to words
them maybe they would listen...
but your voice cannot be heard
If your face turned red with anger
and you shouted at the sky
then the angels would be fearful...
but your fists, they just won't fly
If you showed unending patience,
never cold and never mean
you would find a love worth having...
but your kindness won't be seen
If you broke out all the bottles
and okayed it with your dad
then the dancing could begin...
but your party won't be had
If you saw what I am seeing
and didn't stoop too low
then maybe you would realize...
but your mind will never know
People
Stuffed red parrots, dusty with age
fill Pedro's closet
His wife Angelica
prides herself on her roses
Pierre is a bachelor
He spies frilly skirts
from his balcony
Pierre keeps honeybees
Pete is a clumsy janitor
Bright blue overalls
Just a minute, Pete!
You got an extra cigarette?
Don't loan anything to Paulette
She won't give it back
She stole my favorite bra
We were 'sposed to be friends
Phyllis knows her arithmetic
One plus one equals two
Subtract one and you get one
She knows it by heart
Dirt's Genie
In a flash, he appears out of smoke...
risen from the dirt, nothing more.
He has wishes to fulfill, and a smile shines out,
and the blossom of youth is on his turban.
Is he just a mighty mouse,
or is there something he can offer,
more than squeaks a
nd thievery?
Can he live in the daytime of sun and moon?
A certain strength is required
to be a genie, after awhile...
a tough and tangled, wry strength.
Once acquired, it never leaves.
Yes, there's a story behind this...
an old, and philosophical one.
A story with an end, but the story goes on
'till the death of the philosopher, himself.
A philosopher's stories are mostly in their heads...
with levels and levels built upon
the story of man and woman and child
in shelter, in tangles, in nature.
Nobody, You Know
Nobody you would want to know...
nobody you would want to touch...
nobody you would want to understand...
nobody you could love...
nobody at all...
nobody to give to...
nobody to promise my heart...
nobody who can see within me
that which makes me who I am.
Nobody to touch me in that place
where I have never been touched...
nobody to keep her promises...
nobody somewhere I don't know...
nobody knows me...
nobody wonders for very long...
nobody wishes away the hours...
nobody wants to really understand...
nobody to whose heart I have the key...
she is gone somewhere, I can't find her...
don't lie to me, she is not there...
Jan. 8th, 2002
Outing
As the traces of that hard man
caused you to fence with that scarecrow
as the moon had smiled carefully down
you had left the warm light of the campfire
Can you see it shine now
through the dense undertangle of brush
throwing sparks into the space between the stars?
Will you return to its warm immeasure?
As you make your way between the jigsaw of branches
it does not fit into the flashlight in your hand
Its warm respite is lost in black lattices
such that you only know it's working
We wait for what you have cut from fallen canopies
or perhaps you will never return
to feed the flame's untying light
and untied from the woods around it
You have pulled an icicle from a branch
and shine the flashlight through it
Meanwhile some branches over the campfire
have alit; the light grows as the woods catch fire
As you skinny and scratch your way through the dark maze
the orange light dances through the dry branches
and the light strikes your eye in a myriad ways
You turn off your flashlight and stare into the dark
Pride
Time is just an unforgettable lie
Time as it is known to us
with warm creatures scaling the side of night
upturned like the sand inside an hourglass
roast beef many hundreds of years old
and many an old, old prisoner
shut in for his words with the king
I guess I should have known it would happen like this
Bray now, you priest of slow jeers
Blink silently at the passing of the aces
rare insects found at the golden doorway
and shy as the sweetest and kindest boy
Your flight is the singing of an arrow
and your hand didn't slow with the weight of the tomb
Rode on a long and sandy gallop
you were words that had fallen from their letters
Shower
I had cautioned that zebra
against using its stripes
as an umbrella
When the rains came
to the dry savanna
she heeded my advice
Wandering in the rain
the small hooting of mammals
in the pale and misty noon
A momentary suspension of time
sparkled the web of life
happy trotting of distant thunder
My and my rust-red boots
slowly stepped backwards
for a better shot
Now striped by the rain
and salting the ground
I widened the aperture
Lapsing brief as a candle
a sudden gust of wind
freshened straw colors
The Offer
Love is a miscreant
married to Pandora
exacting a chimera
from Romeo's proposal
Love is a night-watchman
from dusk to dawn
asking of faith
only for vigilance
Love is a trapper
skinning the minks
for her soft furs
roaming the woods
Love is a handshake
firm and easy
A warm grip
A kind smile
Love is a lizard
basking in the sun
lying on a rock
green for the moment
To Joshua
I had wondered about the man
opinions and feathers, I asked
and probably more to the former
Listening to his words of protest
murmured shyly by the breezes
I offered by defense to the moon
As no on had asked
and those bad actors
I saw his fate whispered to the wind
Well now the willow has been broken
but as I have fallen in a well
my only hope is from the thirsty
Maybe you are a lot like me...
swearing by the hard as stone
and silver as her thimble
When and if, those hinges all rusty
freeze and will not open
the locksmith will only scratch his head
All willing and twists of fate
where love spun like cotton candy
is pink to your hungry stares
Neither did I know
that my paper cup words
would be crumpled up and tossed on the ground
Let me tell you about that mountain
now turned to sand...
time, all too often, is like rain
The sweet sadness of regret
will never an apology make
and it is already tomorrow across the Atlantic
Sep. 17th, '99
Parcel
No one ever came to claim it
wrapped in brown paper
with twine tied around it
and it sat in a back room
at the post office
for what seemed like years
gathering dust
and completely forgotten
What was in the parcel
no one knew
no one asked
The address on the package
was non-existent
and the return address
was smudged so badly
that no one could guess
to whom the parcel
belonged
If you know
to whom this package belongs
please notify me
and I will see to it
that the package is returned
to the rightful owner
If I do not receive
notification in writing
by the date specified
the dispensation of the package
will be decided
by the proper authorities
(untitled)
Love, exactly as it seems
is sweet and deep and high and rare,
the stuff of warm and happy dreams...
if you find it meet me there.
No doubts, no questions, no regret...
I'll never hurt that gentle heart,
nor she hurt me, or chance it, yet;
there'll never be a need to part.
If love should take you by surprise
don't take it lightly, just a few
will find it in another's eyes,
a love so perfect, strong and true.
Remember this, the truly wise
show love in everything they do.
I hope you enjoyed this, my fifth book of poems. If you would care to offer any feedback, or simply say hello, please drop me an email at [email protected]
