This Old House
I will live in this old house
as long as the ghosts let me.
The day I moved in they greeted me,
However calmly, without rattled chains,
In barely noticed passing mirror reflections,
Subtly looking at me as I passed by.
I will live in this old house
as long as the ghosts let me.
One late night in hot August,
Little footfalls, echoes in the dark
Destroyed my slumber.
I will live in this old house
as long as the ghosts let me.
Holographic and barely visible,
On the other side of a veil,
Unliving but not quite gone,
Searching and watching,
Eternal vigilant company.
I will live in this old house
As long as the ghosts let me.
------
Talkeetna River
From the glaciers in the Talkeetna Mountains
The river of plenty follows her cold path
Past the ghosts of long dead tribes
On down to meet the Susitna at Cook Inlet
The river of plenty follows her cold path
Over smoothed rocks and stones
Bubbling and splashing along her way
On down to meet the Susitna at Cook Inlet
Past the ghosts of long dead tribes
Who come no more to the Talkeetna river
The Tanaina don’t follow the salmon
On down to meet the Susitna at Cook Inlet
On down to meet the Susitna at Cook Inlet
We floated in peaceful silence on the water
The stream called the "River of Plenty" flowed
On down to meet the Susitna at Cook Inlet
-----------
Pattern
The evening clouds outside my window
Promise cooling rain later in the evening
But right now from my point of view,
They are not patterned as big fluffy animals
Or fun shaped cars or even cotton candy,
But dirty black-rimmed cotton balls,
Much like some dark-painted makeuped face
Had scrubbed off layers of paint
To reveal the hidden skin beneath
And the pattern God had given them,
Then the thunder rolls.
---------
Dance
I wonder if I shall ever
feel the rhythm again
like I did back when
I could dance forever.
Once my feet were clever,
when the song began,
until the very end
any step to endeavor.
The music always stops
and the band packs up;
off to another show.
The janitor slowly mops
beer from a spilled cup,
but I don’t want to go.
--------
The Ghosts Of The River Valley
The ghosts of the River Valley
Call to me from the old mill stacks
and the dirty streets I once wandered,
now peopled by walking corpses
trying to get their next fix;
Next to death, next to life.
Next to death, next to life;
The ghosts of the River Valley
trying to get their next fix
Call to me from the old mill stacks,
now peopled by walking corpses
and the dirty streets I once wandered.
And the dirty streets I once wandered,
Next to death, next to life,
now peopled by walking corpses;
The ghosts of the River Valley,
Call to me from the old mill stacks,
trying to get their next fix.
Trying to get their next fix;
And the dirty streets I once wandered,
Call to me from the old mill stacks.
Next to death, next to life;
The ghosts of the River Valley,
now peopled by walking corpses.
Now peopled by walking corpses
Trying to get their next fix,
The ghosts of the River Valley
And the dirty streets I once wandered,
Next to death, next to life,
Call to me from the old mill stacks.
Call to me from the old mill stacks,
Now peopled by walking corpses
“Next to death, next to life.”
Trying to get their next fix,
And the dirty streets I once wandered;
The ghosts of the River Valley.
The ghosts of the River Valley
And the dirty streets I once wandered,
Trying to get their next fix.
-------
Grocery Shopping
Gathering items from a list
Red pen written on scrap paper,
Onions, peppers, kale, fruit,
Celery, radishes, spinach,
Eggs and bacon and sausage too.
Rice bag has a hole in it,
You can follow the slippery trail
Slowly through the dairy section,
Headed for the fake milk,
Oleo, and cream cheese.
Picking through cartons;
Purchase by dates months away.
Ice cream I save for last,
Neapolitan or strawberry?
Great! I forgot my coupons!
----------
Changing Places
Chairs, table, and coffee mug
Hanging plants and striped rug
Another taped and packed box
Neckties, dress shirts and black socks.
Green bag full of cooking spices
Iced tea and brown and white rices,
Noodles, saltines and Bisquick too,
Green food coloring leaked and Elmer’s glue.
Pyrex cooking dishes are chipped,
Littles trails of flour follow from a bag, ripped.
Another moving day is here
Changing places with a small tear.
Everything will find a place to call home,
Safe again until I decide to roam.
----------
Old Endings, New Beginnings
Rarely does the book of life
Conclude with “The End.”
It is really just a series
Of unended beginnings,
Like the old, “choose your own adventure”
Series where one could run wild
And rampant and everything ended
With a new tale already laid out.
----------
Snowflakes Falling
One fun fantasy I kept.
Science smashed it
and I quietly wept.
When snow's softly spit,
flakes on my nose lit,
surely, none the same;
a truth, I would submit.
Along a machine came,
duplicates made adept,
another illusion swept!
----------------
Crossword Puzzle
The crossword puzzle I work at
instead of listening to the sermon,
Reluctant to face the facts of my sins,
Of transgressions against man and The Lord.
Sordid is 27 across, (my life).
Salvation 27 down, (if I believe upon Him).
When I choose my own path and way,
Overlooking the everlasting life,
Reasoning that this world can carry me.
Do I really think of my eternity?
Peter was a fisherman and fisher or men,
Uriah was sent by King David to die,
Zechariah was a minor prophet
“Zzzzz,” I fell asleep thinking of 14 down,
Levites took care of The Ark of The Lord,
Even though God has done everything for me.
I am a lazy Christian.
Comments