JOURNEY

Prairie Sky #5 acrylic....by Wayne

JOURNEY .....from an earlier poem with a few changes..

my journey like my paintings

explore the sacredness of place

influenced by a serene landscape

with the horizon a theme or metaphor

a point of stillness reflecting back

both top and bottom

with balanced energy

inviting

more than describing

a tight sliver of line

where sky meets land

sometimes calm

sometimes restless

an interplay between inner being

and physical outside world

creating tension between light and space

a place between

the spiritual and material reality

always there

HER LAST SONATA

POW#13..... inspired by classical music.... Argentina pianist Martha Argerich


HER LAST SONATA

theatre under the stars
on a stage in Buenos Aires
her fingers burnt
from the Argentina sun
and cigarettes still burning

staring at the ivory
unable to feel the keys
knowing her tearful hands don't lie
without tears
she hears sonata three

THREE DAYS IN JULY

WWP#12...using ...Yesterday, Today, Tomorrow as a prompt

THREE DAYS IN JULY

yesterday he stood in Pigeon Square
staring at the empty bottles of wine
forgetting where it all went
memorizing the wordless puzzles
confessing all is not lost

today he sits in Pigeon Square
smashing pumpkins
yelling at the crowd in front of him
without regard or reason
counteracting the silence within

tommorow he dances with the pigeons
sings to the crowd of ravens
remembering all the forgotten words
with no regrets of yesterday
before migrating

MODERN TIMES

using titles from albums/CD's


MODERN TIMES

dark was the night
time out of mind
inside out
some voodoo lounge
next to chavez ravine
old corals and sagebrush
the sultans of swing
and the grievous angel
sing hymns of the 49th parallel
in harmony
with the prairie wind
in a silent way
ready to travel a hundred highways
riding with the king
with the one o'clock jump
singing ten new songs
at closing time


credit
MODERN TIMES....Dylan
DARK WAS THE NIGHT...Blind Willie Johnson
TIME OUT OF MIND........Dylan
INSIDE OUT........................Keith Jarrett
VOODOO LOUNGE.............Stones
OLD CORALS AND SAGEBRUSH...Ian Tyson
CHAVEZ RAVINE...............Ry Cooder
SULTANS OF SWING.......Dire Straights
GRIEVOUS ANGEL............Gram Parsons
HYMNS OF 49th PARALLEL...KD Lang
HARMONY...........................Gordon Lightfoot
PRAIRIE WIND...................Neil Young
IN A SILENT WAY..............Miles Davis
A HUNDRED HIGHWAYS..Johnny Cash
RIDING WITH THE KING..BB King
ONE O'CLOCK JUMP..........Count Bassie
TEN NEW SONGS..............Leonard Cohen
CLOSING TIME..................Tom Waitts

BEATS GO ON

...for Big Tent Poetry
inspired by many poems of the BEATS...

BEATS GO ON

the juke-box keeps playing waltzing matilda
at some broken down amusement park
held together with rubber bands
as the stalled ferris wheel keeps turning
grasping at the shadows of yesterday
where Jesus Rodriguez sang harmony
with four nuns in high heels
in front of a vacant tent
full of midgets dancing in habitual movements
shooting water pistols at the candle smoke
smouldering from their Cuban cigars
and Bogart's flaming tattoo
as the Beats go on

HANGING ON

POW#12...


hanging on like a bad poet
unable to open the cellar door
where my mind remains hidden
silent with nothing
unable to write

I stare at the burning incense
no longer willing to glow
where the ashes keep falling
from the silence within
hanging on to forgotten words

WINDOW

I sit looking out the window
at the dripping rain
a field of dreams
playing behind a creeping vine
two ravens staring at the horse birds
beside the dancing armies of mosquitoes
going crazy beyond madness
without direction
void of the tender light that shines
on the blurred mountains in the background
splattered
like a Pollock painting

BUDDHA REUNION

the Buddha ....in my garden beside her pond....her
head got broken falling into the pond.....but all is
WELL!

you left in a windstorm
falling to the bottom of the pond
I thought you might be upside down
with no vision
insulated
expressionless without insight
unable to live under water
without your curly locks of hair
eyelids opened
without that urna between your eyebrows
or those beautiful earlobes
gone beyond all images
losing the power of mantra
unable to meditate again
I was wrong
Namaste

CHAPEAU OUBLIE

assis a  Dunn's Delicatesen
892 rue Saint Catherine Ouest
occupe
attente dans sa solitude
regarder
au sandwich de viande fumee
sur le jaune plaque de melmac
a cote de son chapeau oublie
le poete
l'homme a femmes
le chanteur
sa voix
remettre a la chanson
restant dela du desir
elle attende pour Leonard
de revenir pour son chappeau
a l'heure de fermeture


...translation....

FORGOTTEN HAT

sitting at Dunn's Delicatesen
892 Saint Caatherine St. West
busy
waiting in her solitude
staring
at the smoked-meat sandwich
on the yellow melmac plate
beside his forgotten hat
the poet
the ladies man
the singer
his voice
surrendering to song
remaining beyond desire
she waits for Leonard
to come back for his hat
at closing time


..................Leonard Cohen forgetting...... his hat at Dunn's Deli
 in Montreal....written in the "style" of Jacques Prevert

SABLE BRUSH

I was once springy, strong, fine and soft
resilient yet responsive
holding my shape well
flexible, lively
with a generous belly
a small nickel ring
attached to my comfortable body
never shedding a hair
laying here uncared for
soaked, worn, dried out, brittle
out of shape and weak
unable to bend
corroded and and cracked
losing my hair
butchered and bruised
from all the splashing, rubbing and scraping
staring at her innocence and beauty
dressed all in white
a state of spiritual clairity
unspoiled
resisting change
afraid that her blank emptiness may fade
the canvas stares back at me

TREASURE

a creative paradise with no desires
where only dreams are formed
breathing into the clouds
expressing in symbols and metaphors
a poem about my soul
without judgement
where the power of subconscious
gets rid of the chatter
and childlike curiosity keeps me young
wandering in the present
sometimes lost
as the spontaneous passionate energy flows
from the deep source within
having an openness to the universe
creating the courage to let go
painting a canvas of imagination
without expectations
from a treasure
my right brain

NO OPTION

walking the life giving road
coming from a place I walked before
my reluctant eyes looking for nothing
searching for memories forgotten
lost
naked
blind
my sight covering a vast landscape
going into the dark cave within
taking the only road I see
an opportunity to become a spiritual warrior
where the sun breaks through the clouds
touching the earth dancing to the drums
with loneliness and desperate fights over
a new awareness guides the being
forging on to truth
towards that distant horizon
there is no option