poetry

The Constant Factor

A formula for life, not yet conceived

Or perhaps it has and I’ve been deceived

Some might see a problem, puzzle or game

To integrate all sides to equal the same

.

An equation’s unsolvable when incomplete

Or the solutions wrong and we have to repeat

Though an unknown constant can be hard to tell

This constant unknown, we’ll just call “L”

.

Thus L is the constant that can’t be defined

It can’t be measured or graphed on a line

It’s totally irrational, follows no rules

It can’t be made or dissected with tools

.

It’s unquantifiable, but rarely there’s none

When completely subtracted the answer’s just one

It must be shared but not borrowed, no debtor

May not be infinite but more is better

.

When factored with care the solution’s made clear

That a theory this simple we all must share

That joy is derived when summed with above

And this constant “L” I speak, is the factor of Love

 ~

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Forest of Hell

Colorless leaf crackle beneath sole-less feet.

The smell of death lingers sweet.

Bramble thick draws blood on paper skin,

digging more deeply the deeper within.

 *

Then starlight fades to the darkness I fear,

moonlight shadows disappear.

Columns abound supporting endless night,

numbers multiply consuming the light.

 *

Welcome dew hangs heavy in unseen air,

to drink deep I do not dare.

Outstretched hands replace teary useless eyes.

Senses heightened, alert of endless cries.

 *

Vibrations of night; soft, loud, far and near,

distant from all, we all hold dear.

Wanting now only to curl-up and weep,

my soul is still for the sickle to reap.

 *

Return to the path I lost yesterday,

blackness turns slowly to gray.

Long nights journey in the forest of hell,

surviving again, except for my shell.

 *

The End

*

sck~ c.2014

Day ?

Oh no it’s Saturday!

My vacation’s nearly done.

I mostly sat around.

But I had a little fun.

~

Bird sat a parrot,

a story previously told.

Also saw my Ena, 

who’s nearly two years old.

~

We got a lot of rain.

So I didn’t cut the grass.

I didn’t trim the bushes,

I gave myself a pass.

~

I didn’t do much writing, 

but forced a little bit.

I called it all a journal, 

thought surely not a hit.

~

Back to work on monday.

I really can’t complain.

If I had more time, 

I’d probably go insane.

~*~

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Day 11

I went to an umbrella factory.
I’m glad it didn’t pour.
They don’t make umbrellas there,
at least not anymore.
~
There were a few gift shops,
some chickens and an emu.
The restaurant was closed,
there wasn’t much left to do.
~
But I saw my little Ena.
We had a really nice time.
We said our long goodbyes.
Then home to write today’s rhyme.

~*~
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Day 10

My writer’s block vacation diary
is now on day ten.
I haven’t written this much
since I don’t know when.
~
The day’s still young with lots to go
where it’ll lead I’ve no clue.
A tentative plan was hatched last night,
sounds like something new.
~
I’m waiting for confirmation
until then my time is free.
Because I’m on vacation
and freedom is as it should be.

~*~
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Day 9

Yeah, they made it, little Ena’s here!
Grandpa’s happy to see his dear.
We had a tea party, read some books,
explored all the house’s crannies and nooks.
~
We played some more then off to the tub.
Her mom takes over to scrub a-dub, dub.
We read one more book that turned into three.
Then that sleepy baby fell asleep on me.
~
We all woke today at seven o’clock.
We had some breakfast and found her sock.
Now they’re packing, then to a Pow Wow.
I wanted to go, but I’m too tired now.

~*~
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Day 8

A week now’s past with one to go.
What are my plans? I don’t know.
It’s Saturday and I wait for a text.
When received I’ll know what’s next.
~
I’m expecting a visit much later today.
It’s Ena, who’s two, with lots to say.
She’ll arrive with her mom in a car too small.
It had been mine but I’m too tall.
~
It’s a long drive from New York to here.
I know, I do it ten times a year.
I hope they come, I miss the baby.
But no text yet, so for now it’s still maybe.

~*~
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Day 5

Happy hump Wednesday is finally here.
Let’s raise our mugs and spread the cheer.
The long work week is now near its end.
The weekend is next, shared with a friend.
~
But I’m on vacation, my weekend’s begun.
I’m going to play cards and have some fun.
We’ll sit on the porch and watch the sun’s arc.
I’ll stare at the trees and pretend it’s my park.
~
I’ll daydream at sunset to clear my mind,
then grab my guitar and a tune I’ll find.
I’ll jump up and down and sing without sorrow.
I’ll stay up late, cos I’m still off tomorrow.

~*~
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Day 4

Head’s in the clouds, toes in the sand,
love and laughter walk hand in hand.
Horizon’s endless on a calm night’s sea.
Reflections mirrored for you and me.
~
Love and laughter, the perfect pair,
nothing comes close I do declare.
It’s the freedom to howl at stupid things,
or share a giggle when the other one sings.
~
One pumps you up, one deflates stress,
love and laughter, why settle for less?
Time’s never wasted when it’s shared by two.
That’s why I’m glad to be vacationing with you.

~*~
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Day 7

Wow, what a scare I had,
cat’s on the stairs and Fred is mad.
Seems the cat was planning her attack,
so I moved the cage and scratched her back.
~
That was close, way too close for me.
The worst possible scenario I did see;
the cat tore up and the bird flew away.
Fortunately a story I’ve no need to convey.
~
So all’s well and I’ve something to write about.
This recent writer’s block leaves me with doubt.
But I’m on vacation, no worries yet.
When I go back to work, then I’ll sweat.

~*~
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Day 6

I just got a parrot whose name is Fred.
Though not to worry, no one’s dead.
I’m bird-sitting, I guess you could say.
We’ll sit together for a week and a day.
~
He doesn’t say much, that’s just fine,
I’d teach him some words, but he’s not mine.
He taunts the cats while perched in the hall.
If I opened the cage they’d all have a ball.
~
There’d be feathers all over I’d have to clean.
But I’m on vacation, don’t need a scene.
So far, all’s well, I’ll let you know.
Whoa, a screech, I gotta go!!!

~*~
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The Fairy To My Tale

You are the sight to my braille
The billowing wind to my luffing sail
The industrious shovel to my empty pail
The swift moving engine to my spiked down rail

~

You’re the decisive hammer to my rusty nail
The protective shell to my squishy snail
I love you fresh when I’m stale
Always the balance to my skewed scale

~

You are the diamond to my shale
The summer warmth to my winter hail
You prop me up when I’m frail
You’re the head, of course, of course to my droopy tail

~

The only key to my lonely jail, the cure to all I ail
Always the mystery on this long and dusty trail
You’re the light upon the hill to my lowly dale
You are after all the happy end to my fairy tale

~

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Day 2

Day two’s now well underway,
I’ve nothing to write, nothing to say.
But I’m happy and that’s always OK,
couldn’t ask for a prettier day.
~
So I’ll just ponder, won’t read the news,
I’d rather be dull than shine with the blues.
It’s time to reflect on all of life’s hues.
It’s time to relax, I’ve paid my dues.
~
But I’ll do something, which goes without saying,
I am getting older, my hair now graying.
I’ve a world to inspire, no time for delaying,
just not today, after all I’m vay-kay-ing.

~*~
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Day 1

Vacation’s finally here,
now what am I to do.
I’d love to take a trip,
but the dollars are too few.
~
I could fix my house,
but that sounds like work.
I could let it all fall down,
but then I’d be a jerk.
~
I could write a happy poem,
maybe it’ll be good.
I’ll share it with my friends,
as I know I should.
~
I did get up early;
I’d hate to waste the time.
So I guess it’s time to start,
start my first vacation rhyme.

~*~
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Better Than Nothing

My thinking cap has gone astray.
And I, bewildered another day.
But, at least no work, my day is free.
Perhaps today a poem’s to be.
~
I try to write whenever I can,
was just a child when that began.
Sometimes it flows without a stop.
Then years will pass and all a flop.
~
The flop phase now is where I’m at.
But I’ll keep trying and that is that.
The day’s still young and I’ve still time.
Let’s all hope for a better rhyme.

~*~
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Hats Off to Summer

On this morning’s walk

while enjoying the breeze

I passed by a garden

and started to sneeze

~

I think my thinking cap

Must have blown away

I’ve searched frantically

all morning and day

~

Without my cap

my thought’s gone astray

The pretty blue sky

has now turned to gray

~

I tried an umbrella

that didn’t work

I wore a helmet

but felt like a jerk

~

Without my cap

my writing will end

I guess today

I’ll have to pretend

~*~

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