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Dry Branch Fire Squad – He’s Coming To Us Dead
One morning when the office was opened
A man quite old in years
Entered the express office
Showing signs of grief and tears
And when the clerk approached him
The old man then did say
I’m waiting for my boy, sir
He’s coming home today
Well. you have made a silly mistake
And you must surely know
This is the telegraph office, Sir
And not a town depot
If your boy is coming home
The clerk did smile and say
You’ll find him with the passengers, Sir
At the station just all the way
You do not understand me, Sir
The old man shook his head
He’s not a-coming as a passenger
But by express instead
He’s coming home to mother
The old man softly said
He’s coming home in a casket, Sir
He’s coming to us dead
Then a whistle pierced their ears
The express train someone cry
The old man rose in a breathless haste
And quickly rushed outside
Then a long white casket
Was lowered to the ground
The scene was filled with the grief and pain
Of those who gathered around
Do not treat him harshly, boys
It contains our darling Jack
He went away as you boys are
This way he’s coming back
He broke his poor old mother’s heart
Her fears have all come true
She said, it’s the way that he’d come back
If he joined the boys in blue
Bird, Grass, and Wind
Bird, Grass, and Wind
A passerine’s upon an oaken bough
With roosted tune, enduring, never new
Extending through the woods eternal vows
His coat—and heart—a craven ocher hue.
This strain of strain does aggravate the wind
So breezes carry off the toiling tune.
No matter how the fledgling finds it’s sinned,
It’s raw to currents’ wishes to commune.
But blades of grass do sway with gale’s desire,
The gale, in turn, proceeds as flora sway,
Now here, now there, not ever arranged as prior,
But always matching harmonies they play.
A world’s vibrations always undulate,
So bliss shall come for souls without constraint.
Posted in Original poems
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You’ve Left Me Behind
You’ve Left Me Behind
David Enyedy
Who do you think you are
To leave me scared and so resigned?
My dear, you’ve traveled much too far
On your trip, but you’ve left me behind.
I miss your joy and laughter,
Your soft, brown eyes and flowing hair
You went there, but I’ll come after
And hopefully soon, I’ll meet you there.
I go one time and you were gone
To a better place, one of love
Somehow you expect me to linger on,
Here, not with you above.
But please, when you get there, get me a burger and fries,
And for the love of God, do not forget to supersize.
Giant Phantom
With ripple you flow though thy maiden’s cheek,
Wait till I capture your transparent tail;
You flick a leaf to join the golden league,
I want to catch you, but I always fail.
In silken river countless stars do lower,
They splash and flash then vanish in the peace.
Poor stars, they’re tricked by genial surface layer,
They smash and dash but never fill abyss.
In Crystal globe the beauties are contained:
Some lovers dance with grace and, hear them pray;
Some Snowflakes freeze on villa’s window pane;
Hermetic birchen house, they wish to stay.
Giant Phantom measures cosmos’ dark and light,
Eternal truth, you are the foremost might.
The Faulty Encyclopedia
I look to you to find my answers dear,
But it’s rare that I find what I look for
In the pages to which your soul adheres.
Maybe it hides in the pages I tore
From you, like you tore out all that I was.
Silly for me to believe all your truths,
Not lies, per say, you think you have no flaws;
Still you took the innocence of my youth.
I memorized the content of your myths
But you make no effort to keep the things
That hold me awake and make me squirm with
Passion, exciting and irritating.
These blunt dimples upon your leathered spine
Confuse the ones here in this heart of mine.
Posted in Original poems
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Time
There is something out there for everyone to never have;
Galaxies we will not visit,
And cosmos we will never grab
We collect dust and burn minutes,
Breaking nails on the chalkboard of her apathy
To be forgotten like a footprint on the moon
We wait to fall and feel her gravity,
And stain the aloof Earth maroon
She inflicts careless wounds with tired fingers;
Still our gaze fixed upon her skies from our open casket,
Keeping track of hands that choke and tick
To the tune of the creator and assassin;
She whispers “there is nothing more”
In hopes we’ll find that it’s worth living for
Far Off
All those who yearn for what is far away,
Oh irony, perfection does exist
But in proximity will never stay
And will remain enshrouded in the mist.
To all those seeking the unseekable
Hundreds of miles off yet right next to me
Wanting to confess truth yet unable
And now forced upon talk of vanity.
How now squint I discern across the isle
That silhouette of so much excitement
Confidence in action and depth in smile
Yet too far for any love to be sent.
Probably our paths were not meant to meet
Or I can’t handle my looming defeat.
A Sort of Ode on Prof. Dave
Always adjusting your eyeglasses, scratching your chin and nose,
Sweating through cotton bandanas, which hold back your greasy locks,
“Keeping your head from exploding”— that spellbinding, probing-box,
Eyes tilted up, seeking “pure light and goodness” through literature.
Down on Earth, waving your pen, like a self-propelled missile, at
“Prior to,” “future plans,” all with the hope though to elevate
Students. The language, they honor, and peers’ hearts, they penetrate.
“Every iota” I’d scrape up to be your disciple. But
All of your classes are filled, that is, filled with the mourning and
Anger for you, as that probing-box finally wiggled loose,
Cut off from students and lovers by blows from a hanging noose,
Leaving me waiting for only the spirit of Dave. Yet in
Making my pilgrimage, seeking your haunting ground
Here, DFW I truly hope will be found.
Sitting across from me, floating in 206 Crookshank, the
Lure’s not to have intellectual mingling of humans, but
Rather so that I can bask in a Legend that glows.
Ode to the Thaw
Ode to The Thaw
You have come, the water runs
The way you cried on full moon nights and
Never knew why
Rogue heat clings to contour your cheekbones
Where you and scilla have grown
Where you have clung to roots of your own
Frost has gone, birds find song
The way you found home when it was
Not a place
A chill stalls the onset of the bloom
Where you paint the skies with all your blues
Where you said you would meet us so soon
The Winter is pretty but it makes us numb,
Beauty’s in what thaw becomes