Tag: poems of thought

doubt, creeping, even in the impervious.

doubt, creeping, even in the impervious.

by David Koblentz ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

rattling;;
If I am so impervious
if my armor so impeccable
the unmitigated gate of my plate
the glimmer blinds others in the sun,
then the words of said others
shall have no quarter here;
whisper mills-
gin mills-
water talk,
should then not bother me
like this at all-
rattling;;

notes: I am generally one to not care about the words of others, I pride myself that way, I present myself that way, but I suppose not the most stout fort has a fault, or a weakness, sometimes, the words seep in, like poison, like reason, and I am as much as human as all… even if I pretend to hold myself above it all…

in the moment.

in the moment.

by David Koblentz ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

a conjuration-
I am-
suddenly found ‘midst
an unusual sun shower
a downpour
of cherry blossom petals
a shame,
for they will never feel
the real kiss
of the true summer sun
so I must
for them

notes… this is what haiku is to me, not the form, the beauty. I was going to my car after work in the blah industrial section of Hackensack , NJ where I work, there are cherry blossoms lining the side street, warehouses line both sides, but yet… cherry blossoms are the there, in line, that attract the wild birds of the area, such as they are, we even get quaker parrots from time to time, so, there I was, in the middle of a storm, of petals… and I took a moment to inhale and observe, beauty is there in daily things.. just take a second and look for it…

in the know (the crows)…

in the know (the crows)…

by David Koblentz ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

crows on the rooftop there-
what are they trying to tell me?
(light signals switch, black eyes twitch- looking)
they are not permanent residents
at least not in this noisy cloister murder contingent;
occupying whole oak tree and surround
what is so special about this house (now)
what draws them so here and near
why do they understand better than I
they possess any land, under, the flown sky

notes… sometimes, OK, often I look out the window… and wonder, what draws a crowd, what is the call, what am I missing? something? or nothing more than a dinner bell? or deeper?

fire, for we are, then we are embers, and then ash…

fire, for we are, then we are embers, and then ash…

by David Koblentz ♥ 0 Leave a Comment
Photo by Francesco Paggiaro on Pexels.com

for I am fire-
seems the obvious enough,
and fuel for this-
shall run scant, I know this
but still persist- to burn on
I know not the source but yet can speculate
for the writers, the authors, the morai
“to the fates !”, dare I
for more puppeteers than scribes
pull on strings rather than script the divine
to fellow flames, such as they were
shelley, shakes and thoreau may contemplate
crown thy mantle with a metaphor
might they be ashes now in the evermore
but the burn-marks still inspire scores
even when spoken toward the dwindling dawn
such might believe the theogony
to spark the daughters of ananke
to dwell in this most glorious dull
a tool of the realm upon the shoal
such as the fuel does inspire
such as the wake does drain the soul
for this I know
for I, am fire.

confirmation./of life.

confirmation./of life.

by David Koblentz ♥ 0 Leave a Comment
Photo by luizclas on Pexels.com

under the harvest moon
upon my common harbor
for I embark unto that vessel of sleep
the voyage to the portal of dawn
for I awake unaware of the miles spent
that certainly lay behind me now
onward to a new world on the morn
with time, a hunt, in the yarn
let the first light confirm again
the miracle of first breathes and tell
the joy of open eyes
the sound of life
of my beating heart
like the ever waves
the sounds of life awake