survival

~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

*

 SKittell c.2014

Keeping Spirits

~~~

Nature batters, scarring far and wide.

Forgotten battles forever tied.

Man and rock bear the loss of all who’ve died.

Rugged faces change with the changing of a tide.

~

Keeping the wary from a watery hell,

a craggy post a dutiful keeper dwell.

Keeping by day his glass shined bright,

by night he keeps his flame alight.

~

Warning all comers never to near,

this beacon of virtue is only to fear.

Bravely they stand against wind and wave,

the ocean master, keeper slave.

~

Chores of many, companions none.

Sleep begins when work is done.

Ventures end before the dark.

His light stands silent awaiting spark.

~

Beyond this rock and choppy cove,

a small town lie where tales are wove.

Stories of stormy seas abound,

and faraway lands where treasure’s found.

~

In town sits a churchyard overlooking the sea.

Where the keeper visits when a calm day’s free.

Collects his needs quickly, no time for desire.

His row is long to return to his fire.

~

Scores of seasons drifted behind.

The keeper and kept, two of a kind.

Their toils unnoticed, yet seen by all.

Keeping kept the keepers call.

~

Reflections of stars upon the sea.

Infinite horizons awaiting he.

A beacon to all, his lamp not aglow.

To see the light the keep did go.

~

The town sad for their keeper unknown.

He was buried with care as one of their own.

At the edge of the churchyard lie the keep.

With eternal vistas of the light and the deep.

~

Dozens of keepers tried to keep.

All had left quickly, missing their sleep.

Stories told of the old keeper’s ghost.

A most spirited and demanding of host.

~

He rattled windows and slammed doors,

once hid away the old rowboats oars.

His steps are heard on the stairs all night,

sometimes blowing  out the lighthouse’s light.

~

On a chilly morn some years past,

a storm was brewing, approaching fast.

A hardy young sailor paddled for the light,

racing the waves ahead of the night.

~

With setting sun and drenching rain,

wind and waves pummeled, no refrain.

Shores altered with the rising tide,

The hilltop churchyard couldn’t hide.

~

The keeps remains returned to sea.

The young sailor now keeps –  happily.

And ever since that fateful day,

the old keeper’s spirit kept at bay.

~*~

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Forced in Space

The earth is but a pebble,
yet it’s so much more.
We wake there every morning,
this we know for sure.
~
It hurtles through our galaxy,
yet we’re standing still.
We can try to fly away,
but we never will.
~
If we were to leave,
where could we go?
The sky gives many choices,
but an answer we’ll never know.
~
Our minds were made to question,
but time’s our only clue.
If we could not think,
what then would we do?
~
Would we then survive,
living like bugs or beasts?
Could we ever imagine,
lives without its feasts?
~
Or would we just devolve,
returning to mere dust?
The cosmos our destination,
where the unknown we’re then thrust.
~
Our pebble we’d then follow,
attracted by its force,
Our lives would then not matter,
unless we changed our course.

~*~
SCK022521

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 that 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 unscathed except for my shell.

 *

The End

*

 SKittell c.2014

Lessons

DSCN6495

The more costly the watch the freer the time

The louder the song the looser the rhyme

Turn on the light half the world’s dark

Smell the gas we see with a spark

Life in a bubble called atmosphere

Poking holes without a care

Drink deep from fragile stemmed glass

Candlelit dreams with time to pass

To guess and be wrong a zero gain bet

The higher the proof the more wrong we get

To prove the proof a wasted equation

Pens against bombs can never be won

Words in the air unheard over fuss

Numbers on paper not to discuss

Lessons of life shared by all; never stand, never fall

Never swim, never sink, never thirst, never drink

Always bright much unseen, blind to details in-between

Never laugh, never weep, never dive unless it’s deep

Never leap in the melting caps ice

A lesson we can never learn twice

The End

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Sharing

~

People that yell have nothing to say.

People who yawn sleep all day.

People who sniff also smell.

Preachers of lies go to hell.

`

Thieves take for their greed.

The meek give when in need.

The globe’s split by distant light.

Half is day. Half is night.

`

Half is X. Half is Y.

Thunder booms in forever sky.

Drowning reason with buoyant screams.

Pushed and pulled to all extremes.

`

Hiding behind a glass veneer.

The mirror see’s we all don’t share.

But share we must our only place.

For life’s reflection, not a race.

`

The End

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Distractions

~

Oh tiny ant where do you go?

You dash and flitter to and fro

Treading over floor of wood

In search of something surely good?

.

Oh lowly ant what do you seek?

With every rise another peak

With every gap another turn

Oh tiny ant what do you yearn?

.

Burdens weigh upon your back

Up and down your random track

Your only goal to share with all

Yet chances great you will fall

.

Oh lowly ant where did you go?

There are things I need to know

In a blink you disappear

Homeward bound? Or not I fear

.

Oh tiny ant no more to see

Oh lowly ant you are me

~*~

sck082116

Cell to Pad

~

All have stories, few ever tell,

journeys ventured and desires to quell.

Desires quenched and misgivings had,

good tales abound, few ever bad.

~

Temperatures rise and emotions swell,

tightly bound the poet does dwell.

Here words cascade to drown the sad,

ink flows freely I think I’m glad.

~

For if to spiral back into my hollow shell,

where the sea’s only heard is my living hell.

There verses echo of another passing fad,

when only time notes the page we add.

~*~

sck061016

Details

The devil’s in the details
There’s enough to fill a book
Good or bad become a blur
The higher up you look

Faith adorned upon the sleeve
Or chained around a throat
Taking solace in salvation
While giving little note

Somewhere writ “thou shalt not kill”
This would seem to say it all
They’re simple words to live by
If only we’d heed the call

Or pick and choose words to use
Suffice to make a pennant
Rally around on sacred ground
Then rent it to a tenant

Swaddled in our presentation
Is a tolerance for damnation
Defending of a man-made notion
Is this vast imagined nation

With a patting of backs
Preserving of merit
We share the rounds
To spread the tenet

With finite time defining sin
Demanding of others penance
Then timeless regurgitations
Refining of the conscience

These details are the devil
There’s never enough to please
Yet bad and good become more clear
The deeper down one sees

~*~

sck121315

Wock the Fock

Clocks no longer tick and tock
Keys unneeded for heads to lock
Brains rattle from what’s now rock
Age divides by the Dr’s Spock

Less is more in a frock
Big pants needed for a glock
Weaklings trampled, the rest to mock
Sheep gather and shepherds flock

Inky portions above the sock
Lightning strikes always shock
Ships of fools sit on a dock
Boats float down the block

Looters lament taking stock
Homeless homes best to knock
Future’s fresh in a fetid crock
Till time no more will tick or tock

~*~

sck112515