MICHAEL JAMES GARLAND
Like a river of gold I exhale in the twilight pause,
How strange, the beauty unknown in mundane concerns
rushing to greet those that cast about in final merit.
Oh grim is this contemplation poised on this bridge of sighs,
The abode of lovers and those wishing final flight,
Would motorist think me an odd contemplation in this pedestrian extreme?
Why would they,
They hasten to that, which they would claim,
Bonds deeply shared in a more perfect world.
Ties that buffer the madness that now claims my fervent disregard.
Tired eyes look anew at beauty long since forgotten
I will simply go home and find merit in the small things,
Maybe I will greet the river below
Today… I think, golden rays will bleed me to another morrow.
©2016 Michael J Garland
WEAVER OF WORDS
Where is the gardener of wondrous stories?
I would know more of his loves and many past glories.
His body is worn but spirit is strong.
I would hear of his tales in exchange for a song.
I call out “Old man ! where then have you gone”
Only buzzing of wings on the manicured lawn
The silver comfort of the fountain is lacking
At once on the chair the old man sits laughing
“ It seems but an age since you’ve come to my home.
I fear I must travel but I’ll not walk alone.
I go with my loves my friends and family,
And youth has returned, I’m once more the dandy.
I must ride the train to a faraway station.
I travel so grand I’m filled with elation.
But I fear my dear friend are parting is nigh
I have only tarried to wish you goodbye
Yet to say goodbye seems such a sin
Instead I will say until we meet again.”
I turned for a moment and my dear friend was gone
Fading away was a heavenly song.
I cried at his absence as I stumbled alone
Then spied a star that flew from his home
I new all at once he was where he belonged
I shall treasure my friend his stories and songs.
© 2016 Michael James Garland
A MOMENT DEFINED
I am lost in a certainty,
A moment when I know,
In a single embers glow,
A glance at the book,
Eden begrudges a drop from the brook,
When Everest crown seems not so high,
When the bitter cold not so cruel
I see your glow in a radiant sigh,
The colored hues in dappled eyes,
Where disheartenment a rumor,
Content in your arms I would lie.
Thus, then the solvent of love,
Flows as wine melding our souls,
And for a passion in time we are one,
In an instant divine we are whole.
© Photo and poem 2016 Michael Garland
Undo the twist so lost as I scream
Bend the light with morphine and ephedrine
Catatonic dissertations take on meaning
Something dark and demeaning
See my smile thumbs up I’m screaming
Orate the nonsense of man
Kick about the alley the bitter tin can
What I am is what I am
I’ve nothing more to offer
The next moves your coffer
Dig it up in the down and low
Don’t see me or I’ll know
Twist my words like a noose at flight
Run away survive the night
No bravery just flight
© 2016 Michael Garland
Tick tock the ancient timepiece, steady as she goes.
Sun rising low slanted towards Spartan eventualities.
Death a cloying specter standing sentinel on the other side of realty.
Thin veil of change, a promised kiss in the dance of life.
Then let us waltz in caricature of the tangible.
Let us sing in tones of whispered remembrance
Let us tarry and wish again for senses taken
Let us feed off lovers embraced and the despair of the lost
We are here
Can you not hear us?
Can you not?