Posts Tagged ‘Gold’

Once Upon a Time…A Story

Posted: September 29, 1996 in Poetry
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Once upon a time I wrote a story
Which caressed the face of the girl I love,
But the real life situation
Is untenable.
She has lost sight of what I once was
In my prime, in my heyday,
And this stubborn pride
Speeds my fall.
Once again, the impact will wake me
To a life in shambles;
Nothing gold can stay.

Run to the Grunion Run

Posted: May 11, 1994 in Poetry
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I ran across the street
with a golden-haired girl
to watch the grunion run.
She’d never seen it before —
I’d never touched one,
always too scared —
but for her I wrapped one in seaweed,
careful not to touch its skin,
and I returned it
to my Mom,
the ocean.

I went to find my childhood
buried in the morass of my memory;
discarded in a moment of adolescence
trying to be an adult
before I knew what that was about.

So me and a shovel and a dream
go wading through the cattails and the frogs,
looking under lilypads and scouring the undersides of logs;
hopes waxing and waning with the flux of a dark moon
laying with my arms behind my head
in a dark room.

There was a little gold-gilded crown
once made of paper. . .
I thought I had drowned my youth
in a premature effort to be a man,
coated with cars, money, girls, sex, and truth,
white picket fences and two and one half kids,
a loving wife and instant happiness.

Ah, but so many can’t and so many others won’t
dig up the countryside grave of their little one,
content to weep and dream with a withered imagination,
or they chase ghosts of happiness in platinum nightdresses
taped to the part of the elephant they can still feel.

Untitled Poem #164

Posted: June 4, 1993 in Poetry
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all I think of
in my most precious dreams
is that dangerous dolphin,
you.
flying golden dragon,
delicate butterfly,
wreaths of suntouched hair,
I know you
in each disguise.
you are dessert.

The Prince of Spring

Posted: May 31, 1993 in Poetry
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for all of my twenty years
I have had one healthy fear:
that Love will find me cold and dry
for being a Prince and held so high,
but my heart longs for fiery blood,
wide-open eyes and Love, true Love,
not courtships played to gain the hand
of the Princess with the tracts of land.
for Love that fountains from my soul
for the heart of a girl who’s honest, whole;
someone to Love me and someone to share
all of my fears with; someone to care.
for I am no better than any man.
a Prince or a Pauper, the same we stand
in God’s eyes you’re worthy or not,
it doesn’t matter, the gold you’ve got.
Love is life’s most precious thing,
even for me…
…the Prince of Spring!
for I am the Prince of Spring.
for I am the Prince of Spring.
for I am the Prince of Spring.

Impressions

Posted: April 30, 1993 in Poetry
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you’re a kitten curled up
after a day of curious exploration,
ears twitching with dreams
and unconscious poise,
lulled asleep by the intricate rhythm
of your heart rattling in its cage.

you’re two shiny blue eyes like children
on Christmas day, lips slightly parted
and twinkles streaming like the stars
in the Milky Way, one languid arm
of our beautiful, beautiful galaxy.

you’re one sunrise that explodes slowly
over sleepy violet mountains,
the opening of a gigantic flower
or a treasure chest at the end of a quest;
all pouring gold in fountains and cataracts
into the tide around my feet.

Seeing Green

Posted: April 25, 1993 in Poetry
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I want you to see green
the way that I see green
in all of its fluorescence and grandeur:
a lawn and a suit
and a rain-clean forest in Hawaii fed by moss-strung waterfalls,
frog skin and garden hoses and glow sticks,
the bindings of books with gold letters,
childrens’ animated watercolors;
the hue and cry of the lifelong green
of the ocean where kelp beds hang,
or of a new car,
or of an apple.