|
|
|
|
Anything Good
Anything
Good is a collection of poems I wrote between 1988 and 1991.
Although individual poems have appeared in University and small press publications,
it wasn't until 1992 that a complete collection was printed for family
and friends.
I am happy to make these poems available to anyone linked to the web with
a willingness to read them.
If you have any comments, please feel welcome to send an Email.
It is my hope that these poems will entertain, stimulate, and satisfy.
Freedom's love
Memory's dreams
Appreciation
Of ordinary things
A splash of water
Upon a mirror
Dirt and moisture
Light through air
Wonder's thrill
Imagination's will
A planet's scheme
A mountain's stream
Moon's smile
Sun's shine
An ocean's shore
A ripple's roar
Mind's garden
Magic's seeds
Wish's hope
Blues and greens
Touch and talk
Friendship's glue
Nature's harmony
Is a part of you
Return to Table of contents
MARCH LIFE MARCH
Life is tentative yes indeed
We map and order out of need
It's a frightening thought to be caught by surprise
So we reduce our lives to calendar size
As four months pass we've scheduled eight
Our calendars have us subordinate
But we don't care there'll be no shock
Our lives are planned - securely locked
We can't stop now we've got to run
Our calendar's day has just begun
Alas Sweet Death you'll just have to wait
It seems that Calendar has no open date
Return to Table of contents
Images and Sensations
I've built a dream
Within the glass of my memories
Built a dream
With beaches of powdered light
Diamonds scurry on a rippled sea
The steamy warmth of a lover's sigh
A dream
Within glass
Building
Return to Table of contents
THE JUDGMENT
It came as a shock, but no great surprise:
A poet convicted for rhyming his lies
The court was aghast when he stood and declared,
"I'm not from New York, and I don't really care."
The verdict was swift, but obscure as all hell:
"You'll study at Harvard, forget about Yale.
"Your subject, we'll choose, and there will be no appeal.
"Obfuscations in epopoeia! Now how do you feel?"
He turned to the jury and thanked them in Danish,
German, English and Latin: quite a macaronic gibberish.
The jury was enraptured, not understanding what he
said.
They reversed their conviction; dubbed him laureate
instead.
Return to Table of contents
I hope you'll forgive me
If I presume
Your consciousness
Equally
Manicured
And groomed
Our lives
Simply stated
An amalgam
That grew
Of Sense's
Perception
Imagination
That's new
Return to Table of contents
I'm falling into my feet
As my time passes, I shrink
What is left of me
Has been forced by years and gravity
Toward my toes
Closer to the earth that spawned us
Only my feet have grown larger
My heart has withered
What my species has done to Earth, to itself
Time has done to me
Ignoring the higher aspects
Nurturing the baser plane
Only my feet have grown larger
My heart has withered
Return to Table of contents
A stinging cold
accompanied us
From the front
door to the car
Brother sat
next to dad
I had the window
seat
Dad's cheerful
voice then said
We'll learn
something this morning
Something we'll
never forget
You'll see what
I mean
I prepared to
see with all my senses
As the car stopped
a mile before the pond
And hours from
sunrise
Not a word was
spoken while we walked
Whatever we
were to see
To learn
Had ears
Crouching low,
then finally crawling
We came upon
a rise
Without a word,
a twitch, or sound
We waited for
the light
Dawn arrived
and freed our eyes
Through anise
air and wafts of sage
Mirror blue
and framed in reeds
The misty pond
below
Taking our hands
as he stood
Father brought
us to our feet
A pintail drake
shot for the sky
I wasn't going
to miss this chance
Beautiful colors
and pointed tail
Following its
every flap
I was surrounded
with an implosion of experiences
Before I came
to see
Father, looking
down into that mirror blue pond
Was following
his own pintail drake
A reflection
soaring deep into earth and water
Where I discovered
the existence
Of other perspectives
Return to Table of contents
DAD
The bigger part of me died
When he left
Reason says he's with me
Dreams in my atoms
Memories in my bones
We are each the eyes
The ears, and arms
Of the same life experience
Emotion screams
Return to Table of contents
Fair Measure
(A Limerick of a sort)
When freshly dead
I suggest instead
Of brooding upon your loss
You take the time
To remember this ryhme
For we might not be everything's
boss
Return to Table of contents
Requiem for an Orca
A calm and quiet morning; bright with contrasts.
A jar and lid slam closed over a golden poppy.
Ladened with pollen, a bee flies in circles, and
circles.
The bee tires, a moth is added.
Nature made to dance within a mason jar.
A calm and quiet morning; bright with contrasts.
Diamonds of light dance upon an azure pool.
Bleachers empty, shadows long.
Soon leviathans will leap through rings of fire.
They seem to trust their wardens.
What could a whale know of fire and prisons?
Return to Table of contents
An Easy Day
Lying down in leaves of green
With shafts of light
And tender dreams
A slow sunrise
Its warming balm
Odors Spring
A sleepy calm
A yawning stretch
A touch of tea
The day-long plan
To look - To be
Return to Table of contents
The Doubter
All kneel to the lord and
begin to pray
For HE did make
us of this earthen clay
Yet one soul paused with a look of doubt
Then from bright lips these words did spout
"I'm sure you're right, we're but earthen clay,
But as to pot or potter, I for one can't say."
Return to Table of contents
MAKING MUCH OF YOURSELF
There is a way of looking at things that allows you to
see too much.
A place it is best not to go.
There should come a warning with this perspective; at
this place.
A step backward is advisable.
To ceremony, and ritual, and superstition
A safe place where humans glory in the glories of humans.
A place where rhetoric reigns and shadows are said to
have depth.
Things here are of humans, by humans, and for humans.
A cosmos built for its single tenant.
Return to Table
of contents
In the turbulent liquid of our minds
A small bubble of dreams
Of passions
Growing, rushing
Toward the surface
Of expression
Bursts
Forever
Not
Return to Table of contents
SAILING
Sails
Rigid sheets against the wind
ground swells deep and hollow troughs
high and wind swept crests
wind streaked foam dictates your course
raised and shoved
down
up
pushed
Balanced atop their crests
you're five again
held
for just a moment
at the top of a ferris wheel
your playground laid out before you
the horizon far away
lined with small, white clouds
this windborn child of some distant storm
releases you deep into a valley
surrounded by mountains of blue
speckled white
your horizon within reach
The air grows viscous
hemispheric intensities
thickening atop crests
thinning in troughs
spray visits your eyes
!!!SPLASH REFLEX!!!
salty tears
find the corners of your mouth
a deep breath
your head feels light and joyful
your spirit renewed
all the while you're holding on
with tight, white hands
to a happy dancing boat
the sea a deep cobalt blue
brilliant as old 8mm movies
rich colors in high contrast
charging horses everywhere
the color of snow
borrowing the blue of sea and sky
they sound like charging horses
rolling white caps
galloping and rumbling up behind you
as the boat plows
churns
and gurgles
through the sea's surface
leaving a trail of suds behind
white disappearing into blue
like a fading ribbon of candy
snaking over the advancing swells
all set under a millifiori sky
rays of sunlight
curtains of rain
trapped in moments and memories
wind singing to your ears
stretching your smile
pulling the words from your lips
Then
in an instant
for the briefest of moments
you are witness for the universe
a sparkling stream of awareness
in a dry disinterested desert
testament
that your heart
will know
the rhythm
of that day
for years
to come
Return to Table of contents
A DRINK OF WATER
Drifting down stream
during a sparse and gentle rain
An interesting idea,
a joke, flattering words
A poem's song dancing
with your memories
A cold drink of water
on a hot dry day
Smiling eyes amongst
pillow mountains
Fingers gently lacing
Awakening
Kindness
Dreams
Ah!
Return to Table of contents
THE QUESTION SATISFIES
I've often wondered,
But never really
knew.
What is this
situation?
I simply have
no clue.
Some say they
have the answer.
But all I see
is fear.
So I retain
this wonder:
What are we
doing here?
Return to Table of
contents
NIGHTWATCH
Moonshimmer dancing over vanilla seas
Sugar cookie ships sailing breath-warm breezes
Eyes swimming in sleep
Leaden lids, half-drawn curtains
Soothing lulls, hypnotic motions
Black spars stirring stars thourgh an indigo sky
A burbling bow slicing silence toward a safe and
sheltered cove
Filled with unguarded sleep, and free-flowing
dreams of cream honey rum
Return to Table of contents
JOGGING
Jogging - I lost
my breath
I chased my
breath
through the
park
I chased my
breath
past a man covered
in
layers of ragged
clothes
sleeping under
cardboard
I chased my
breath
past a large
nun
drapped in tarpaper
and gold
eating food
that tithings bought
I chased my
breath
past a garden
where
junkies plant
syringes
hoping to grow
a hospital
I chased my
breath
past a stretch
limousine
filled with
a napping person
hiding behind
thousand dollar shades
bullet-proof
windows, and rationalizations
I chased my
breath
past a crazy
lady
who's health
a doctor held for ransom
I chased my
breath
past a man on
a soapbox
telling the
homeless they can
choose to be
beautiful, healthy
children of
the wealthy
I caught my
breath between
a church and
City Hall,
where I seem
to have lost
my illusions.
Return to Table of contents
WITHIN
Deep within a milk cow's dreams
There's a wild herd stampeding
Deep within each of us
There's a dream
Return to Table of contents
A Heartless Home
The silent pain of inept knowing
Wandering streets and never growing
We see these people needing succour
While mapping our financial future
I fear the future opinions molding
"Minds lead hearts to personal
holdings"
But is it fair to measure hearts
By how we treat our weaker parts
A Homeless Heart
Return to Table of contents
ON NEW PRIORITIES
Long, hard edged
shadows
Morning coffee
Sun's light
sears your eyes
You watch it
rise
Then realize
It's setting
Feeling the
loss of having slept
Through the
heart of your day
It dawns upon
you
Your pilot light's
burning
The sun still
shines
Return to Table of contents
THE OLDEST AND MOST POPULAR ADVENTURE
STORY TOLD BY COWS, TO COWS
Standing in a field, surrounded
by other cows
chewing
swatting flies before they
bite
bowels moving smoothly
ruminating
standing
chewing
chewing
standing
ruminating
bowels moving smoothly
swatting flies before they
bite
chewing
Standing in a field, surrounded
by other cows
Standing in a field, surrounded
by other cows
chewing
swatting flies before they
bite
bowels moving smoothly
ruminating
standing
chewing
chewing
standing
ruminating
bowels moving smoothly
swatting flies before they
bite
chewing
Standing in a field, surrounded
by other cows
Return to Table of contents
GOD
The ubiquitousness
Of everything
That does
And does not
Exist
NOTHING MORE
NOTHING LESS
Return to Table of contents
Human
Smelling marrow
Within your bones
Truffles at the base of your brain
Life is plunderful
Plotting
Return to Table of contents
Catching Light with a Fishnet
NOW
A lonely singularity
A dimension
A consideration
Our only reality
A point
An illusion
Our life
Our time
To catch light
With a fishnet
Return to Table of contents
TAKING STOCK
When your head hits the pillow
And you blind your eyes
Who travels through your mind?
Who takes your measure?
Who sounds your soul?
Who is it that wonders why?
Return to Table of contents
Over-Population
This poem
read like
Venom
and sting
I didn't
mean for it
To hit
so hard, to
Hurt,
to
Hate
Please
don't take it
Personally
Return to Table of contents
I'VE DECIDED TO BELIEVE IN MAGIC
I've decided to believe in magic.
Everything but hell, harm, and sin, of course.
Yes
From here on out, I'm shakra shaking
superstitious.
"Oh. I knew it was you before I
even answered the phone."
"I just had this inexplicable desire
to call you."
"We must be in perfect harmonic synchrocity."
"You're such a special friend."
And so forth.
It's fun.
It beats stepping on bugs.
Oh well.
I've got to go now.
I have some crystals, herbs, and scoobie-doo
books to buy.
I'm going to make believe.
And play.
Thank
you
Return to Table of contents
|
Home |
Anything Good
© 1991
Anthony G. Ballatore