Tag Archives: Poetry

Gypsy trash

I’m one of the ones
They came in from the road

This fire burns
on invisible ink

A slow
quiet panic
translates
as blinking lights . .

Words that no longer mean—
words used the way they don’t seem—

Who lost their face
in the dark
casting shadows
lit up by the fire
burns on invisible ink—

Who went out of the way
to let go
even though
there was no undoing
our inheritance—

A steady drumbeat swings—

Who looked down the well—
who fell—
small droplets cling
to a magnifying glass

No,
no, that
wasn’t it

Who dries up and hangs from the sun—

Who spoke in moths—

Who picks up the symbols
and shuffles them
into little boxes of misunderstanding—

Who left behind
Durga’s in the sand—

Who could no longer wait
at the bus stop speakerbox
disconnect neon highlighter

Book of Longing

I can’t make the hills
The system is shot
I’m living on pills
For which I thank G-d

I followed the course
From chaos to art
Desire the horse
Depression the cart

I sailed like a swan
I sank like a rock
But time is long gone
Past my laughing stock

My page was too white
My ink was too thin
The day wouldn’t write
What the night penciled in

My animal howls
My angel’s upset
But I’m not allowed
A trace of regret

For someone will use
What I couldn’t be
My heart will be hers
Impersonally

She’ll step on the path
She’ll see what I mean
My will cut in half
And freedom between

For less than a second
Our lives will collide
The endless suspended
The door open wide

Then she will be born
To someone like you
What no one has done
She’ll continue to do

I know she is coming
I know she will look
And that is the longing
And this is the book

~ Leonard Cohen

Most Of The Time

Most of the time
I’m clear focused all around
Most of the time
I can keep both feet on the ground
I can follow the path
I can read the sign
Stay right with it when the road unwinds
I can handle whatever
I stumble upon
I don’t even notice she’s gone
Most of the time.

Most of the time it’s well understood
Most of the time I wouldn’t change it if I could
I can make it all match up
I can hold my own
I can deal with the situation right down to the bone
I can survive and I can endure
And I don’t even think about her
Most of the time.

Most of the time my head is on straight
Most of the time I’m strong enough not to hate
I don’t build up illusion ’til it makes me sick
I ain’t afraid of confusion no matter how thick
I can smile in the face of mankind
Don’t even remember what her lips felt like on mine
Most of the time.

Most of the time she ain’t even in my mind
I wouldn’t know her if I saw her
She’s that far behind
Most of the time I can even be sure
If she was ever with me
Or if I was ever with her
Most of the time I’m halfway content
Most of the time I know exactly where it went
I don’t cheat on myself I don’t run and hide
Hide from the feelings that are buried inside
I don’t compromise and I don’t pretend
I don’t even care if I ever see her again
Most of the time.

 

==Bob Dylan

The Starving Dog

When life puts a starving dog in your path

You have a choice

To kick its teeth in, out of revultion

Or to feed it

 

Deep inside each of us are a Black dog and a White dog

The White dog is love and comes from our memory of innocence

The Black dog is fierce and comes from abandonment, abuse and neglect

 

To heal spiritualy you must pick up the Black dog

And even though he snarls, foams at the mouth and bites at you

You must love him

For he is your Black Dog

 

I was a starving dog once

 

==Marty Wilde 2017

Im Dyin Lord

They call it depression
In the looking glass
I do not know
I call it the path

Emotional healing
And I can’t complain
I’m looking up ahead
An approaching train

It stops to get me
And I climb aboard
It takes me down
To the place that I’m…

Dying Lord
I’m dying Lord
Said I’m dying Lord

I’m Dying Lord
Emotional upheaval
Said I’m dying Lord

© 2015 Martin H Wilde

THE PLAYER OF THE VOID

The Owl flies at night

Brings good luck to the player of the void

(Owl Song)

 

If you go where no man goes

You find what no man finds

He’s moving on like an Owl in the night

The player of the void

 

He sees at night, a diamond shining bright

The player of the void

He falls to the Earth, to kiss it on the lips

Then soars back to the sky

 

You’re here I know, been here all my life, waiting by the door

To the land of the shining silver plain, on the other side

 

He knows his pain is the cracking of his shell

And faces night with day

To face the dark with faith and grace

To live the passion play

 

He flies at night

The player of the void

And waits outside my door

© 1997 Martin H. Wilde