Showing posts with label Poem. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Poem. Show all posts

Wednesday, March 8, 2023

Slice of Life: Day 8: Four Haiku

                                                                    Photo by Ethan Brackbill



canoe on bent creek

sedentary and rusted

I wait for sunrise

 

forbearance within

excavated soothing thoughts

concord between dreams

 

semaphoric star

a caucus among travelers

a tremulous stride

 

conduit between

congregating dreams and thoughts

ruminating path forward

Saturday, November 19, 2022

Poem: Across Lifeless Limbs

Poems are still few and far between for me. Maybe you'll see why when you read it, but I was overcome with several images I had to wrap up in a story. As I write my new novel for NaNoWriMo, I have been writing about characters whose past has been a thorn in their side. Sometimes simple things such as thorns are deeper than we think. As years of neglect wear on,  our past, if not dealt with, digs deeper into our souls. But the past can be a gateway. If we stare at it, nothing changes. But if we surrender to it, we also surrender to what is to come.

                          Photo by: Andy Heatwole


Across Lifeless Limbs


stepping out over long shadows

across lifeless limbs

breathless breathing

defending

as the past attacks

walking backward, fists tied

on dead-end winding roads

shards of reverie

have a hold, pin down

isolation in colliding waves

reaching deep

extracting dreams you will never see

visions of what we can only feel

fever high

in lows of life

if it hurts your life

it hurts your soul

keep searching for 

bold rhythms that bind

eyes on bends of light never fold

no more fences keeping strangers in

put to dust isolation

seek and find wide-open arms

in ebbs of flows of empty rooms

unwrap the past 

surrender to what’s to come

if it heals your soul

it saves your life

 

r.s.graybill

11.19.22


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Wednesday, March 16, 2022

Six Haiku

                                                                 

Slice of Life: Day 16


                     sky-bound moon, haunting

tempts me to touch the shadow

to the light, I turn

 


staring at my thoughts

I reel in captivation

hooked, a dream gone by

 

tormenting clockface

bare toes gripping the beach

sunset over waves

 

 brown crinkling photos

a frost-bitten memory

recoils in fruitless efforts

 

dewdrops in garden

scarecrow limps from the wire

daffodils blooming

 

dreams woven throughout

gathered on a shady hill

the scent of time spent

 


Wednesday, July 1, 2020

Poem: Yosemite

Photo by www.visittheusa.co.uk
After recently watching the leg-shivering documentary, Free Solo, the image of the majestic Yosemite National Park was burned into my head leaving an inspirational scar. Then, while taking a walk and discovering Houndmouth's cool Sedona - especially the guitar intro - an idea was unearthed. Certain songs do that. Like oil drills extract oil from the ground, tunes can pull out ideas you never realized were there. It leaves you no choice but to get it out on paper.

             

Yosemite

                                              colorless dreams
                                                              dripped, f
                                                                              e
                                                                                l
                                                                                 l
                                                               from my head
                                              with a startling sound,
                                              muffled voice
                                              bled through the pillowcase
                                              seeped through the mattress
                                              into the black
                                                           white
                                                           dusty fibers - headed for the cracks
                                              hard-bristled brush
                                              attempted to scrub it clean
                                              covering up didn't work the way I thought
                                              every bit of tears
                                                                  residue from what I knew
                                              welled up, came pouring out

                                              one of the dreams was yours

                                               left on the front porch, light turned on
                                               no foot in the door
                                                                              where it could hang with the hats
                                               let's go take a hike at Yosemite
                                               face what's between, what's ahead
                                               share what didn't happen
                                                                 would've happened
                                                                 or what could happen again
                                               spread a blanket
                                               shout from the summit
                                               sucking in the air
                                               chisel our crisscrossed hurts
                                               into the side of the cliff
                                                                   only soloist can see but never can tell
                                               fingers and dreams intertwine
                                               scratch the surface 
                                               with acrobatic twists and dives
                                               under constellation eyes

                                               let's dream of Yosemite
                                               and go for a hike


r.s. graybill

6/30/20




Saturday, November 1, 2014

Breaking Down Every Breaking Wave: Stanza 1

Although Bono's lyrics sometimes seem simple at first glance or initial listen, there is always an unyielding spiritual deepness in their meaning. His lyrics, like U2s music, is never on the surface. Only one listen to their latest stellar album may seem just that. Where's the rich, dark, deep, meaningful lyrics that helped make Achtung Baby one of the greatest albums in the history of music? Well, they're there, and just like so many Bible stories or even verses alone, the magnitude of their meaning and purpose transcend to multiple levels - leaving me inspired. And if you're not a fan, I encourage you to open your heart, and you too will be uplifted.

The purpose of my latest blog entry is to deconstruct their beautiful rock ballad/anthem, Every Breaking Wave - track two on Songs of Innocence.  I'll explain how this song, although unique in its own way, mirrors all of their other songs. Behind the music behind the lyrics, when stripped down, it is what they all are. A hymn. A hymn as powerful as all the breaking waves that come our way.

The following is my own personal interpretation. With all great writing comes varying interpretations. Bono may have had a completely different story in mind. Although after years and years of reading the meaning behind his writing, I feel I'm pretty close to hitting the nail on the head.

Every breaking wave on the shore
Tells the next one there'll be one more

Breaking waves represent the fingertips of Satan. Later on, in the song, Bono refers to the sea being a friend turned enemy. Thee Enemy. And what Satan touches and ultimately destroys is overwhelming and can be frightening to anyone that doesn't put on their full suit of armor. His plans and ideas to turn and churn our lives are relentless. Trickery that may begin as a trickle only grows in strength - if we let it. We are the shore - or rather, all of God's goodness and light represent the shore. If untouched, waves crash and return to the sea...return to the enemy. But there's always one more. Always more temptation. Always a plan to destroy. And he's good at what he does. It can take us down, knock us out, and be the burden on our backs we can become accustomed too. We don't realize it's there.

And every gambler knows that to lose
Is what you're really there for

With every decision whether a choice concerning ourselves, our spouse, our family, or our work, we are gambling. Those with humbled hearts hope whatever is decided is the path God wants us to take. Sometimes we lose. It isn't our purpose to lose or to fail, but it's part of our path no matter what. The agony of defeat over a wrong decision doesn't move us backward. I don't believe we ever move backward on God's path. We simply turn in another direction. We're here to lose. It's what we do in defeat, it's the direction we face that matters. We're saved by undeserved grace, not by wealth or position. It's a gift. Jesus said, "For those that are first will be last and those that will be last will be first." What a great paradox!

Summer I was fearless
Now I speak into an answerphone

Summer, in this case, isn't talking about the season of the year, but rather a season of life enveloped in fear, hope or recklessness. The character telling the story here is speaking of a troubled time in his life. Whether he exited that stage with reflection and realization is answered in the next line. The answerphone (also known as an answering machine/voice mail) symbolizes his calling out, his prayer for a new direction - guidance on how to change his current course.

Like every falling leaf on the breeze
Winter wouldn't leave it alone
Alone
  
We are all leaves close to falling. It's not a pessimistic view, just a statement about our fragility. The enemy knows this, hence his relentless waves. He wants us to crash. He knows how easily we fall from our trees as soon as a new season (winter) comes along. We hold on tightly, but it's inevitable - we fall. The question is, do we keep an eye on the shore. Do you see the footprints of the man who picks us up and carries us?

This ends the first stanza. The song only gets more beautiful from here. I'll continue unwrapping these lyrics next time and explain that not all waves are necessarily the fingertips of the enemy, but rather choices in our lives. Satan wants to convince us that we must have everything. He wants to convince us that what we have is never enough. There's always more. If we keep chasing every breaking wave, we divide ourselves from the things that really do matter - God, family, friends.

U2. Every Breaking Wave. 2014.
Originally Posted: 11/1/14
Edited: 5/31/20