Tag: Poems

upon Spring (and I mean listening to Vivaldi)…

upon Spring (and I mean listening to Vivaldi)…

by David Koblentz ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

white chrysanthemum flower on white surface
Photo by Karolina Grabowska on Pexels.com

joy! with joy!
the uplifting
the song of spring
played up on Vivaldi’s strings
the germination of possibility
a rebirthing machine
the seed shall touch
lead forth to harvest
then of joyous host
this is the entrance, the start
the promise of life
from a new born star

notes… I went back into my notes from last year and found this little thing, spring was certainly different last year, and I suppose this reflects that, I must admit it brings back the memory of the glory of spring, the feelings, they were so muted this year, they are slowly creeping back, with a mask of course, kind of dipping a toe in the pool before moving forward… it is easy to forget how in a short time all this will be behind us, it will.

drowning…

drowning…

by David Koblentz ♥ 0 Leave a Comment
black and white dead die diving
Photo by Life Of Pix on Pexels.com

I woke up drowning
caught in the undertow
so normal now the flow
and I am lost to the surface
to the sun
I wonder under without struggle
further, further down from the sun
surrounded by depths
a siren of fathoms
the light stretched hand
spires in flight
can not even guide
these hands, lost hands
no grip, no will, slides down a hole
why was I asleep at all
I would rather never have known

notes… I have said it before, but it bears repeating, I had some serious asthma attack when I was in my teens, I am talking turning blue and barely making it, being pumped full of adrenaline so hard that I walked around my house for 96 hours straight without sleep, no complaint, that is barely hardship compared to some but damn it made an impression, breath, we take it for granted, even me, but I have been on the other side of it, and I expect it to kill me honestly, I think we all romanticize our own death, slipping away in our sleep while whispering to our loved ones, it is rarely like that, I waver now and again, sometimes I want to be the wolf in the face of it, knowing what is happening and fighting to the end, I used to want to die in my sleep and not know… but reality is… I will have no choice how it goes.

a thought about the pariah of panic…

a thought about the pariah of panic…

by David Koblentz ♥ 0 Leave a Comment
don t panic text on toilet paper
Photo by Markus Spiske on Pexels.com

“there is no safe room
in which to abandon to
the light of day, nor the ire of night
cares not what struggles beneath
the universe does not discriminate
fate has no favored prey”

notes… be safe but also be prudent as to the ways of the universe, we are but a cog, we exist, and the universe deemed us necessary in the history of all things, take some solace in this…

Paradise Lost… thoughts.

Paradise Lost… thoughts.

by David Koblentz ♥ 0 Leave a Comment
statue angel cemetery
Photo by Francesco Ungaro on Pexels.com

sharpen the spires
so shall be done
as the angels fall in deluge
from the heavens won
may they land upon these reminders
of their mutiny of god

and then there are the born apples

the serpent’s tongue
coils up wrap my spine, constricting,
becoming the whisper master of my desires
and the plunderer of my dreams

and so mankind begins…

lost.love.letters.

lost.love.letters.

by David Koblentz ♥ 0 Leave a Comment
photo of person walking on desert
Photo by Ethan Jones on Pexels.com

how long
how long did you wait
for me to come home
to come back.
alone.

she is always in there somewhere, entwined with my DNA, never far from the surface, even under the weight of the undergrowth of so many years, there are times I forget, but there are more times I remember, this is a lost.love.letter.

to remember contours,
lying naked together in bed
moonlight penetrates
sliding through the window slits
onto your exposed skin
the base of my palm begins
in the small of your back
tracing upwards
curling my fingers slightly
so the tips track between your shoulders
until they breach
the rise of your neck
pausing at your hairline
turning to cradle
your head towards mine
no eyes as lips guide
and we are one
for a moment in time.

observation, on a strange day…

observation, on a strange day…

by David Koblentz ♥ 0 Leave a Comment
grayscale photography of brown and black bench
Photo by Paweł L. on Pexels.com

I saw an older man
sitting straight on a bench
hands in black jacket pockets
facing the cold lake
solitary confinement
for being outdoors
on this coldest day of may

notes... (haiku feel, ya feel me?) this was a record breaking day here, granted our weather records do not go back that far really but anyway, it was cold, I was driving to grab some dindin after work kicked me in the ass and head (you would think I would learn to be able to zen it out by now), and I hit… a squall, as in snow, seriously, my car read 33 degrees, that is pretty low for may in these parts,  I was driving by one of my favorite spots in my local little world and listening to the recording below… (classical music is good decompression you know, well, at least for me, and that is generally who I am concerned about, go figure…)

spring, in this strange time…

spring, in this strange time…

by David Koblentz ♥ 0 Leave a Comment
pink petaled flowers closeup photo
Photo by Brett Sayles on Pexels.com

the gallery of the cherry blossoms
hung among this, the haunted spring
for if march showers bring promise
we can not await their offering
in the quiet of april
showers quarrel more
prayers wait
for the arrival of the summer sun

notes… haiku feel (for me), sort of, one of those as I say ‘wrote itself’, sometimes I feel like the words come from somewhere else, I could take all the credit, but when I think about it the universe has collaborated to create me at this instant (and you, incidentally)… so, a lot had to happen for this little post of words, and it actually did…

a moment, in touch…

a moment, in touch…

by David Koblentz ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

duckthe wind, is an overture
roaring, under conductor,
like an inward ocean learned
cresting and breaking among the trees
I listen for the conversation creaks
as if, to contemplate them
but even foreign songs have a tell
and perhaps my earth memory is quelled,
a spring day that presents more like september
brilliant blue sky that belies the weather
bamboo leaves flipping spinning
like an old duck hand carved weather vane, tapping
flapping wings with might upward against the stream
and stops sudden, a moment, an exhale, perhaps
the sun, with effort, tries to warm the day
just enough for the brave , to peek out, to partake
even just for a split second, top heads poke, gingerly, above the bow,
I am swept into this sea –
this blend of seasons, a menagerie
the rise and fall, the beat and pulse
wishes drop like coins into mother’s well
the facade of the world surely around
invisible and faceless
in touch with such bounty.

notes… just a feel thing, a moment, trying to draw the reader into my experience, maybe successful, maybe not, brush strokes against the canvas of reality here in quarantine-ville, the music… starts a little slow, but kicks in around the 2 min mark….

a poem of circumstance…

a poem of circumstance…

by David Koblentz ♥ 0 Leave a Comment
sparrow perched on bench
Photo by Vladyslav Dukhin on Pexels.com

hope not for omens
preparing dinner
a thud, a dull glass thud
I have heard this before
but why today
since many long I can not even say
since I heard that sound
so distinct
a missile, a blind kamikaze mistake
and there she is
delicate little bird
curled up on the planks
outside my kitchen window
lying lifeless, I know this
this was an ending note
with hope I throw on my coat anyway
slip on my outside slippers
and gently cradle the little
hoping for a twitch
wishing a miracle
but no, a head tossed to and fro
in the tide of past life now
so little bird
I lay you down
may you rest
upon this ground

notes… just sometimes things happen, and you are no longer an observer but the recounter of a story, of a life, and so it was…