- PERSONAL PHILOSOPHY
This page
consists of my published poetry to date. All works contained herein are
under a copyright and reproduction and distribution is
forbidden under law.
- The Thunderbird
- Call To The Toys
- What is A Friend
NATURES LESSON
Did superior fruit ever come to be
from a spindly sickened tree?
Or has the withered sun dried vine
produced sweet grapes at any time?
Or the stunted field of maize
give full ears in harvest days?
We oft ignore our teacher grand.
These lessons wrought at nature's hand.
Should we proclaim a better state,
our crop should likewise be as great.
Whether our boasts or other's prevail,
the yield will always tell the tale.
A superior tree should yield superior fruit. If the fruit is not superior, how can the tree be?
If the fruit is poor quality, in what condition then is the tree?
"With charisma I work to get my way"
"Nah!
You're just a good speaker! You're OK!"
"I've
screamed in meaningless anger and rage!"
"You're
still a 'wise' man..still a 'sage'"
"I've
twisted facts to suit my eye!"
"It's
all right to 'doctor' and lie."
"I
fantasize and perceive it as real!"
"No
problem there, to you it's real!"
"I
puff out my chest, with arrogance sway!"
"But
you're fun to be with, so that's OK!"
"My
ego's as big as the highest tower!"
"Why,
that's your strength and that's your power!"
So it
goes on, day after day.
Errors
compounded, ingrained they hold sway.
Who is
to fault to help grow the seed?
The
doer or those who approve of the deed?
When
we outwardly support or tacitly approve through silence
behavior that is detrimental, we share in it's growth and perpetuation.
What does that say of the path we are truly walking
versus the path we claim to be walking?
Copyright �2009 LarryCopeland
WALKING
THROUGH THE FOREST ON AN AUTUMN DAY,
I NOTICED
EVERY TREE AS I WENT ALONG MY WAY.
THE WALNUT
DROPPED IT'S FRUIT TO THE AWAITING EARTH
WHICH THE
SQUIRRELS QUICKLY SEIZED WITH THEIR PLAY AND MIRTH.
THE MAPLES'
LEAVES WERE BLAZONED WITH BOTH ORANGE AND RED
SO MUCH
LIKE THE A FIREY SUN IN EVENING SETTING OVERHEAD
THE STATELY
OAK WAS SILENT WITH IT'S WITHERED PLUME
GIVING UP
THE FOLIAGE TO THE CHILL AND GLOOM.
ALONE STOOD
OUT THE SIMPLE PINE CLOTHED ALL IN GREEN
A CONTRAST
TO THE SLEEPINESS OF THIS WOODED SCENE.
I NOTED AS
I WANDERED, NEVER DID I SEE
THE STATELY
OAK PRETEND TO BE A MAPLE TREE.
NOR DID THE
BEECH EVER IN A HIDDEN FLURRY MASK
AND TRY TO
BE A WALNUT AND DO THE WALNUT'S TASK.
WOULDN'T IT
BE WONDERFUL IF PEOPLE DID THE SAME
AND STOP
THE PRETENSE THEY PROJECT.CEASE THE SILLY GAME.
FOR PEOPLE
UNLIKE TREES CAN TRULY CHANGE THEIR WAY
BUT UNLESS
THE CHANGE IS DEEP WITHIN, IT WILL NEVER STAY.
NATURE IS A
TEACHER AND THE WOODS A GREAT SCHOOL ROOM
ON MOST THE
LESSONS LOST AS THEIR DECEPTIVE WAYS RESUME.
Copyright �2009 LarryCopeland
I looked
upon the rose in bloom at my garden gate.
How velvet
like the petals, the heady scent first rate.
Often I
would stand and gaze upon that bloom so fair.
T'was
almost like an angel with beauty beyond compare.
Yet, as the
summer lingered and the heat began to rise.
The silken
bloom began to fade as if before my eyes.
The leaf
began to wither and the blossom's color fade
It's demise
was drawing near of that I was afraid.
One day,
then, it happened and the flower was no more.
A thorny
bush stood sentry at the terrace door.
The
fragrance had been lifted and the comeliness was gone.
It was as
it had always been, a spiky shrub lived on.
No matter
the appearance nor how things seem to be,
what
something truly is will show to some degree.
Copyright �2009 LarryCopeland
WHEN THE MIRROR
FOGS WITH STEAM
One morning upon rising, looked
into the glass did I.
Disheveled
my appearance and sleep dulled my eye.
Hot water
filled the basin. Steam had fogged the mirror.
Obscured
was the reflection. I wiped to see clearer.
In
astonishment I saw what seemed another me.
Hatred
filled my entire face! I wanted to just flee.
Then the
vapor cloud arose and hid what I had seen.
When it
finally parted, there was another scene.
Jealous,
envy gaze returned replacing what was mine.
The malice
that reflected was evil and malign.
Quickly
closing both my eyes, with swiftly shaking head.
'Should
have stayed asleep' I thought 'and safe within my bed.'
Slowly
lifting up the lids, looked forward once again.
There shown
to my humble soul a sight that gave great pain.
My aspect,
now, was showing forth a pretentious ego.
Bowed my
head and gripped the sink, this truly was a blow.
The heated
mist shot upward. Words on the glass appeared.
Gnothi
Seauton, Know Thyself. There's nothing to be feared.
Suddenly
the clock went off. T'was only just a dream.
Yet to this
day I wonder, when the mirror fogs with steam.
Copyright �2009 LarryCopeland
NOTHING EVER REMAINS THE SAME
Nothing ever remains the
same.
Never will it truly
remain.
A tree in spring with
shoots abound
by fall lay upon the
ground.
In summer's warmth and
brightness play
come winter will have
gone away.
Even hardships when they
arise
seem terrible before our
eyes.
But always with passage
of time
to our memory they will
climb.
The good, the bad,
whatever done.
Won't forever be under
the sun.
Be it seasons, hopes or
friends.
Nothing will last,
everything ends.
As time flows to another
day
some other thing will
come our way.
Do not be fooled nor
lulled to sleep.
These words within our
mind we keep.
"Nothing ever remains the
same.
Never will it truly
remain."
Copyright �2009 LarryCopeland
I
looked to the bin. It was my chagrin.
T'was full
to overflowing.
There was
rubbish galore. Junk feel to the floor.
Trash heap
was ever growing.
With
internal sigh, the mess I'd defy
deciding to
gather it all.
Straightening
my back, the pile I'd attack
thus get
out from under the pall.
What had
been once good and remained it should
in spoilage
lay all around.
As I moved
each bit, my thought was to quit!
A rancid
odor was found.
Those boxes
which fed with nourishment bred,
lay empty
there on the deck.
Food I had
chose (for reasons who knows),
contributed
to the wreck.
What seemed
like a year (just minutes I fear)
went as the
area cleared.
Once
thoroughly bagged, then my shoulders sagged
but my
heart was greatly cheered.
This lesson
to heed, we all should indeed.
Avoid this
mess without doubt.
in order to
gain, no matter the pain.
The trash
must be taken out.
Copyright �2009 LarryCopeland
How
often as we go day to day,
we take for
granted those coming our way.
Those who
are offering a helping hand,
which we
use selfishly for our wishes grand?
Or those we
seek out when other friends flee,
but in
return, letting them in solitude be?
Or when
trouble comes, they by us remain,
but when
it's not in our plans, we will them disdain?
Generations
made of both "I" and"me",
Let us open
our eyes and clearly see.
Family and
friends we use for our gain,
will not
for all times on earth remain.
Let's
remember that as we go day to day,
appreciate
those helping us on our way.
Copyright �2009 LarryCopeland
At
town's edge there was a storied house of older wood and brick.
Was
whispered it was haunted, among the weeds and grasses thick.
One velvet
night, black as pitch, when moonless was the sky,
some
friends had dared to enter it and see what they could spy.
The
interior was well made. The workmanship seemed sound.
One
ascended the ancient stair, he took it with a bound.
The stair
gave way, the young man fell and rolled upon the floor.
Planks gave
out beneath his weight. He sank with one great roar.
Alarmed his
pals called out to him peering through the hole.
"Are you
OK? Are you all right, both in your mind and soul?"
He shook
his head. He moved a bit. My how his bones did ache
"The first
step is the worst then it's a piece of cake!"
Copyright �2009 LarryCopeland
Along
the sandy boundary of a river flowing wide,
three
stones there were embedded. Sitting side by side.
For years
the waters rose and fell, sometimes swift or slow
and
polished each the stony heads till they began to glow.
Each had a
special touch to them. Each one a unique trait.
One was
white, one was black and one a striped agate.
Nestled in
their niches like siblings in a bed,
nothing bad
would happen, naught to fear or dread.
One day a
storm burst heaven's gate. A deluge did descend!
The river
rose in rapid pace. Destructive fury had no end.
A tree
uprooted from the bank scooped up the stones all three.
Hurled they
were into the depth where none would ever see.
Despite how
safe or special we are. Despite how pretty our head.
A torrent
can overtake us and wash us away instead.
Copyright �2009 LarryCopeland
Here
I sit in the basement, under a pile of junk.
Who ever
would believe to what level I have sunk?
There was
time when I was new. My fittings polished bright.
My outside
was all lacquered. What a handsome sight!
First I was
in the bedroom, positioned against a wall.
I held the
family linen, their coverlets and all.
Remembrance
of carnuba wax and of the beeswax paste,
the rubbing
of the polish like that of love's embrace.
I really
didn't mind the scratch or denting of my lid.
They loved
me for myself. For what I was and what I did.
Then I
heard a voice saying 'Let's do something with this thing.
It's old.
It's gotten scraped and marred. It has an awful ding.
Let's place
it in the children's room, there to be a toy chest.'
My aching
heart ceased beating, stilled within my wooden breast.
The pain of
having hinges torn! Toys banged upon my side.
My lock was
ripped apart by one to see what was inside!
After years
of suchlike treatment, there came the final blow.
'The kids
are off to college. To the cellar this will go.'
So, here I
sit. Wait! There's a light! Whatever can it be?
A voice
rings out, 'yep, it will work.I think it's right for me.'
Out of the
heap I'm pulled. I am inspected in and out.
'Restoration
will take work. Can be done without a doubt.'
If I had
tears, I'd shed them! This comes from joy not pain!
I will be
fixed! I'll be repaired! I will be loved again!
Copyright �2009 LarryCopeland
Gone, But With Me Still
In memory of my mother
T'was
nearly now a year ago I said to you goodbye.
You said "
I love you" as teardrops filled your eye.
How was I
to know, that soon then you'd be gone?
To see you
lying there cold, your life was finished,done.
Yet each
day hence, when the moon rides high in the night.
I feel you
press my shoulder with a maternal touch so light.
Or as I
gaze at your picture hanging on the wall.
I sense
your presence next to me, standing straight and tall.
The
illnesses you had have vanished as with the ravages of age.
You've
entered ,now, another realm,a new and glorious stage.
I sense you
near me, your forceful strength and will.
You may be
gone my mom, my friend, but you are with me still.
Copyright �2009 LarryCopeland
The Muse With Broken Wing
I
court the muse each evening in the light of setting sun.
Seeking now
to turn a phrase as the day is done.
What shall
I write? What shall I pen? What really can be said?
I turn upon
my seat, raise my arm to scratch my head.
An accident
occurred just then. I bumped the statue on my desk.
A priceless
Nike lay on the floor broken and grotesque.
For a
moment tears came forward, then my heart began to sing.
There on
the floor my poem lay, The Muse With Broken Wing.
Copyright �2009 LarryCopeland
Twitter,
twitter goes the bird. Buzzy goes the bee.
Woof the
dog is barking at a nearby tree.
Hiss the
cat is spitting at it's feline friend.
Squeak the
mouse is running avoiding it's own end.
Never have
I heard the cat ever to go squeak.
Nor was the
mouse to loudly bark, even so to speak.
Never has a
bird gone hiss or twitter go a bee.
Never has a
dog gone buzz at a nearby tree.
Each
creature makes their noise to identify their kind.
It is as
was intended, as it was designed.
Folks are
not so different, not in reality.
Listen to
their noise and you'll see what they will be.
Copyright �2009 LarryCopeland
Who
makes the man just what he is,
the parent,
the teacher, the guide?
Who makes
the man just what he is?
'Tis he who
will decide.
Man cannot
deny himself
anymore
than stars can fall,
but each
must answer for their step
right one,
wrong one and all.
Of all the
knowledge man can learn,
all truths
there are to gain,
Knowledge
of the self is best
and wisest
to retain.
Copyright �2009 LarryCopeland
Fairies
and goblins decided to war,
with great
hue and cry as never before.
'The
fairies' too sweet' the goblins complain.
'Goblins
scare folks' was the fairies' refrain.
Each day at
dawn just before it was light,
the fairies
would gather and drill for the fight.
With
fluttering wing, each armed with a wand,
Fairies
trained for the battle. How they'd respond.
After
sunset, in the gathering dark,
Goblins
marched in to make their own mark.
With sharp
spears and tridents, with many a grunt.
Each
practiced what they termed the 'great fairy hunt'.
Towards the
contest date, the month did climb
Both
ambassadors met to set the time.
'Fairies
will fight at the dawn of each day.
The cool
early morn. It's the only way!'
The goblin
retorted 'this battling at light
can never
be done..we combat at night!"
Hours they
argued. They fought and they screamed.
Till both
were tired and thoroughly steamed.
With one
voice both yelled 'this haranguing must cease.
If we
cannot have war, then let us have peace.'
Thus ended
the Great Fairy-Goblin War.
One that
was fought like none ever before.
Copyright �2009 LarryCopeland
I
was walking through a graveyard close to Hallows Eve
October's
breath was biting and rustling dead dried leaves.
The sun was
sailing low afar off in the western sky.
An aged
gent stood quietly as I was strolling by.
'Sir' said
he in Irish brogue 'Could ye hep me out a bit?'
'I'm
fuddled in me drinks and it seems I lost my wit'.
I paused to
scrutinise him, for I wanted to assist.
His form
seemed wholly solid also wispy like a mist.
No jacket
had he on his back, no hat upon his head.
His garb of
was out of fashion, was an older style instead.
'I'll take
you home.' I told him 'You really should be chill.'
'Lost his
way,' that was my thought 'as seniors sometimes will'.
He shook
his head and pat my hand, 'Thank ye for bein' kind'
He leaned
his weight upon me as through the paths we'd wind.
'I lost me
lass some time ago. Sadly, I'm all alone.
Sometimes
when I'm in me cups, I canna find me home.'
As on we
walked I shivered, yet never did he quake.
as if the
autumn coolness on him it would not take.
With the
gloaming all around us,'There's me place' he cried.
Nothing
could I see there despite how hard I tried.
'Thanks for
the hep, young gentleman' he quickly went his way.
To an
ancient monument he walked, then he faded all away.
Now, when
I'm strolling quiet among those sleeping in the dust.
Those
meeting me I wonder, 'Real or spectral gust?'
Copyright �2009 LarryCopeland
It
was my wish to go and fish
one evening
with my friend.
When him I
ask, he didn't pass
that's how
it all begin.
"Let me
call, this is no stall,
See what
other pals will do."
"The answer
then is no my friend."
said I
without much ado.
"No" said
he. "I'll have to see
whatever is
going on.
I'll go
with you, my word is true,
only maybe
later on."
Puzzled was
I with this reply.
"I take it
your answer's yes."
"Most
probably that it will be
very
likely, more or less"
I shook my
head o'er what he said.
"Please
tell me just yes or no."
He thought
awhile. I saw him smile.
"Would you
be mad if I didn't know?"
My mind
agog. T'was all a fog
how this
dialogue was led.
I didn't
fish, as was my wish
with a
headache I went to bed.
Copyright �2009 LarryCopeland
China And The Chipmunk
To Lois and her real live China
Outside
on the grassy lawn, a chipmunk calmly sat.
Moving
spry, his paws raised high to one looking out.
Gesture
made as if to jade China, the pussy cat
who this
lass against the glass she pressed her twitching snout.
'China,
dear ' (It was a jeer) the haughty rodent said.
'Come and
play, Be free today! The sun is shining bright.
Come have
fun and with me run unto the flower bed.'
Strolling
vain, the length of pane within the kitty's sight.
'Friend,
alas, I have to pass, the door is shut and latched.'
Toothy
smile she purred awhile, displaying her great cheer.
Claws
distend, downward she rend. Upon the jamb she scratched.
'Were I
free, there would not be a single thing to fear.'
Smiling
sweet, feeling elite, he stretched as China eyed.
Fact was
grasped, the sill was clasped. Continuing the jest,
'Ever be
that you are free, then you could be my ride.
To begin,
I'd rein you in.' The chipmunk duly stressed.
Then up
went the closed casement and China made a leap.
'Fore the
tease could even sneeze or make a little squeak,
Kit was
gone and had upon him landed in one heap.
But was
grabbed, her owner nabbed her as the chipmunk shriek.
Taken in,
it was a sin for her to lose the prey.
To the
brush, the rodent rush and swiftly did attain.
Housed once
more, this China swore 'there'd be another day.'
Chipmunk's
vow, he'd not allow himself to taunt again.
Copyright �2009 LarryCopeland
"How
was your day" is what to say.
Whatever
does it really mean?
It's just a
word that's often heard,
is it truly
what it is seen?
We with
this phrase in so many ways
convey much
more than we may like,
when said
to folk, can games invoke
among rich
and poor alike.
It may
imply, it's unknown why,
"I find you
so interesting."
With spoken
tone, some have grown
more prone
to give fancy their wing.
Yet alter
it and then it fit,
yet, quite
a different manner.
An image
brought, becomes the thought
pity's held
up as the banner.
If changed
again, it is inane,
another
view, now, emerges.
Concern for
one has now become
all
feelings and all the urges.
"How was
your day" should simply say
exactly as
it is meant.
A request
made, some concern paid.
How
someone's day truly went.
Copyright �2009 LarryCopeland
Goliath
In
Honor of the December 15, 1967 Silver Bridge collapse
Feet
upon two shores. 'Neath the river roars.
Goliath
endured proud and strong.
Sun shining
on steel, at times it's surreal,
for all
times it seemed it belong.
For years
it had stood, as rightly it should,
a pathway
for folks to traverse.
in
thousands by car, it made short the far.
The loads
carried were it's own curse.
The silvery
sheen hid weakness it seem.
Cracks
formed in the legs on the land.
T'was late
in the day, December held sway,
when
Goliath's feet turned to sand.
It crumbled
inside and forty six died,
plunged to
the water below.
Years have
gone on by. Yet some will still cry
for those
lost in the icy flow.
Goliath is
gone. People have moved on.
But never
let us forget.
How
something we trust can turn all to rust
and prove a
much greater threat.
Copyright �2009 LarryCopeland
Late in the spring, to see what
it'd bring
I planted some seeds in
the earth.
Oft' I would try to
carefully spy
and find out when sprouts
would come forth.
I looked to the day when
I would say
that "This home grown
food is the best".
Time moved along, I
thought I was wrong,
with nary a plant was I
blessed.
Then lo and behold, in
the soil unfold
tender shoots began to
push through.
The food I could taste,
my table they'd grace.
Vegetables I myself grew.
I weeded and worked,
there was nothing I shirked,
to attain the sought
after prize.
Four weeks to the day
that I entered the fray
to my chagrin and
surprise,
as I had long toiled, by
my own hands foiled,
each plant I had pulled
was from seeds.
When mid-June had come, I
was feeling numb.
I had grown a garden of
weeds.
Copyright �2009 LarryCopeland
I
awoke upon the ground,
whole in
body safe and sound.
Velvet
clouds obscured the moon.
With
amazement I arose,
attired in
my better clothes.
What had
happened that I swoon?
Over head
the curtiain split,
of the
darkness I was quit.
all about
the tombstones stood.
Body seized
with mortal fear,
"Just what
was I doing here?
Could not
be for any good!"
Quickly
turning then my eye,
on a
mausoleum spy.
Heavy door
flung open wide,
Blackness
masked what lay before,
knowing not
what was in store,
cautiously
I stepped inside.
Once
within, then I could see
others
looking back at me.
"Brother
come now back to bed."
Then the
memories came through.
Was the
only thing to do.
Spirit
lived, but flesh was dead.
Copyright �2009 LarryCopeland
A
little child went walking with his grandpa late one day.
Along the
fence row through the field they slowly made their way.
Swinging
the pails they tightly held, one large, the other small.
Hoping to
find blackberries ripe from which pies would enthrall.
Soon enough
within their path, the bushes were clearly seen.
With
sunshine splashed upon them, glinting a velvet green.
"Yay!" the
boy cried out, rushing with the elder man in tow.
Dashing
forward, seeking the vines wherein the fuitage grow.
A chubby
hand shot outward into the the brambles thick.
Heedless
was he of the barbs, eager to be first to pick.
"Ow!" he
wailed recoiling. Tears quickly filling his eyes.
A crimson
streak was formed. Thorns were guarding the prize.
Gramps
knelt with handkerchief wiping both tears and red away.
Hugging the
lad close to him, softly he had this to say.
"Don't ever
hurry yourself to plunge into something blind,
for even
the sweetest things can be prickly and unkind"
Copyright �2009 LarryCopeland
As
I lay sleeping in my bed,
strange
surreal visions filled my head
of those
who'd already gone ahead.
My mother
stood with stately grace,
nary a
wrinkle on her face.
I basked
within her warm embrace.
The favored
aunt came, hugged me tight,
more
youthful and as always slight.
Her
crippled limb was whole and right.
Cousins,
loved ones gathered 'round me,
having long
gone, their spirits free,
came forth
they did out of the Sidhe.
Grandfather
stepped up, softly said.
"It's a
reunion of the dead.
But you've
no cause to fear or dread"
Some silver
he placed in my hand,
"Know that
never alone you stand.
When you
see it, you'll understand."
The alarm
went off, it was morn.
I felt
forsaken, sad, forlorn.
All the
loved ones that I had known.
Then on the
floor I did espy,
something
making me laugh and cry.
A silver
dollar caught my eye.
Copyright �2009 LarryCopeland
Storm Cycles
To storms both in
the sky and on ground
The mighty
boom rattled the door,
shook the
casements as not before.
The
billowed army gathered o'er head.
Once more
the cannonade was loosed.
Flashes of
light were introduced.
as in the
heavens tumult spread.
Watery
bullets then rained down
pelting,
soaking, all around.
Rivers
forming where there had been none.
Blasts of
wind from volleys rose
uprooting
trees that would oppose,
joined by
flares from the celestial gun.
Battle's
fury pitched ever high.
Lightening
streaked across the sky.
T'was a
wailing gale with sheets of rain.
Soon
thereafter the fight was done,
stormy
legions gave way to sun.
However the
clash would come again.
Never an
armistice was signed,
never a
treaty will one find,
for
opposing forces will compete.
Be it
above, be it below,
storms will
take shape, will always grow.
Until
cycles are broken, they'll repeat.
Copyright �2009 LarryCopeland
Who Do We Think
We're Fooling
"I
am what I am that's just what I am."
Who do we
think we're fooling?
The faces
we don thinking victory's won.
It's self
deception we're schooling.
Every day
that we pass in front of the glass
repeating
we're not that way.
The actions
we do, transparent, see through
have
something quite different to say.
Unwanted
ardor, we wholly abhor,
not to our
liking at least.
If
otherwise dressed and completely pressed,
who cares
that our interest's not ceased?
A package
in silk or newspaper ilk,
wrapping
for what we intend.
What we
will display will fully convey
the true
message we seek to send.
Facade on a
house, deception espouse,
we believe
what we are fueling.
A mask to
provide what we seek to hide.
Only
ourselves we're fooling.
Copyright �2009 LarryCopeland
Unnamed
A brother you had seemed to me
someone thought to be trusted and true.
I failed to see the inner self
what deep down was the real you.
You used me to gain advantage
as you have often done.
People who in past knew you
sang a diff'rent song than you'd sung.
I wonder now at all you said
what bending you did? What deceit?
The darkness you long past begun
around you now is complete.
Even should you step forward
as a man and make a clean breast.
Never again will I trust you.
Never will faith in you rest.
"Birds of a feather flock together
as will ducks and geese."
"There's no honor 'mong liars and thieves"
from the greatest to the least.
You honestly think it over
by deceit you have gained the day?
Unwise person that you are!
Unseen Powers hold sway.
No matter what is spoken to you
by others as unwise as you are.
An oath bound by blood will always prevail
for no matter how long or how far.
Since you used others to do your will
The Powers That Be see them too.
All the deceit and lying that's done
returns hence to them and to you.
I raise a toast you you "my friend",
To the Old Ones of wood, hillock and stream.
May they descend upon you and those
doing just what they deem.
If nothing you have done "my friend"
and your hands are lily white.
Then nothing to fear there is "my friend",
nothing to give you fright.
But if lies and deceit be upon you
and those you've gained to your side.
If you and others have lied when saying
"our our hands are down at our side"
Older Ones are watching
as is the Council of My Blood.
Those ones to the former are given
while the latter upon you flood.
May dreams then come upon you
and on those who your deceit share.
Be it awake or dreaming?
Be it a dream or your own nightmare?
Copyright �2010 LarryCopeland
Though the sun is shining bright
and no clouds obscure it's sight.
Though the evening be clear
and the moon seems oh so near.
The thunderbird awaits it's rise
to flap it's wings, soar to the skies.
As flashes streak across the dome,
it sails onward strong, alone.
Seeking out that certain prize.
Then lightening shoots forth from the eyes.
Though the welkin cloudless be,
that bird will come, just wait and see.
Copyright �2010 LarryCopeland
Come hither "toys" I knew when young,
cluster 'round and sing your song.
March with me from wood and glen
each one of you a long time friend.
Arise whether it be day or night
Come out and once again have sight.
Come to the world of living men
thousands strong, yes, live again.
Keep your swords and sabres free
opposing acts of villany
but to those whose word is true
act peacably as you must do.
Come hither "toys" I knew when young,
cluster 'round and sing your song.
March with me from wood and glen
each one of you a long time friend.
Copyright �2010 LarryCopeland
In this era of confusion
misdirection in profusion
I thought I'd write this ditty to help out.
Many thoughts I've been exposed to
what it is and what it means to
be a friend, t'is the question without doubt.
Some may say it is to drink with
or get high or just to be with.
That's what defines the friend in truth and deed.
Some will state it is to follow
while their fabrications swallow
It makes the friend the rarest of the breed.
Others claim it is the lie
that someone covers by and by
which provides fact as does the shining sun,
or the stroking of an ego
so humility lays fallow
that's what to do and how it's truly done.
Since I possess an intellect
to all of this I must object,
the foregoing being of a surface mind.
The one who doesn't play a game
whose acts are genuine not lame
in such a person friendship we might find.
Not the one who seeks to backstab,
admits their acts both good and bad
so doing proves to be an honest soul.
This one shows to be trustworthy
when it's good times or it's gloomy.
A friend that's true, well isn't that the goal?
All the earlier foregoing
despite all the outward purring
shows it is acquaintanceship at very best.
while the latter is in keeping
with real friendship that we're seeking
the proofs bear witness to what they attest.
Copyright �2010 LarryCopeland
The Accidental Meeting
At a little shop not long ago,
I saw someone I used to know.
Our eyes locked once in a steely stare,
the person that was, was no longer there.
Perhaps, I never knew that one
when it's all finished, said and done.
What I took as truth was maybe an act,
some small attempt to make up for a lack.
The face was fleshy with bags under the eye.
It saddens me but no tears can I cry.
The youthfulness that once had been
was swept away by a baleful wind.
I recalled past words this one did speak,
"I'm young and strong, you're old and weak".
I wanly smile o'er what I saw
for the appearance left me in awe.
Maybe in the future, coffee we'll sip
and down a memory lane we'll trip.
Whatever happens, it will be so
this one fact I truthfully know.
Tho' the sight of this person caused me to sigh
there but by the grace of the Universe go I.
Copyright �2010 LarryCopeland
The Wood Sprite's Speech
As I was out upon my way
on a bright November day
unseasonably warm it was.
A wood sprite came
and with me remain
espousing what all nature does.
"Ever notice the trees
and the bushes with leaves
how in the autumn they fall?
Not all at one time
with bare branch climb
some still with leaf, some not at all?"
Around in the wood
I looked where I stood
what the spirit said was true.
Tall trees were laid bare
while bushes green wear.
I waited for speech anew.
"Those that sprout forth
and stay close to the earth
when chill comes will fare so well.
But the lofty ones' crown
that later come 'round
go swift 'neath autumn's spell.
The first to bear shoots
have much keener roots,
to them it's no passing phase.
They'll wear their green
well into fall's scene
and even to much colder days.
However the tree
and the stouter it be,
may seem to have cause to brag.
Yet when touched by frost
and the finery's lost
it's baldness will be a flag.
They cannot sustain,
like the low bushes remain
full leaf well into the cold.
As winter's descent
bare branch will be met.
It's been this way from of old."
The spirit departed.
I pondered whole hearted
on that which the fairy had said.
Which will I be
a bush or a tree
for the seasons that lay ahead?
Copyright �2010 LarryCopeland
Between the Worlds
The instuction was to walk this way,
whether darkest night or radiant day.
That with eagerness to go abroad
wherein both spirit and mortal trod.
No matter if the sun rose high,
'tis but a dream to the unseen's eye.
Veiled then are spirits 'mongst humankind
unperceived by the care worn mind.
Tho' clear to ones that in the gloaming dwell
who despite the orb, draw essence still.
When falls the velvet curtain late
with weariness folks are sedate.
Then people must lay down their heads
in peacful slumbers on their beds.
As stars above cast forth their glow,
power quickens those taught below
evoked from that ethereal land,
into fleshly form remand.
This was the tutelage provided me
by those now gone of my family.
Walk both domains throughout your days.
Live not just in corporeal ways.
Now the secret has been told
which has been guarded from of old.
Roam where twilight alone has reign
'tween the airy realms and earthly plane
whether the firey star's above
or the silver sphere of love.
If any listening to this word
in full comprehension heard,
seeks out the path for lust or gain
for them it will prove a bane.
But, if others strive to aide
both the living soul and shade,
blessings are what will be the yields
when one treads betwix the worlds.
Copyright �2010 LarryCopeland
Friends of Shades
The unseen ones may prove to be
truer friends than those we see.
For people with their capricious heart and mind,
inconsistent thoughts and actions bind.
So often when the deed is wrought
with outcomes we had never sought,
change our way and set of will?
Nay, but with vigor we'd pursue it still
even if the path we make
should to disaster's cliff end take.
But ones whose form our eyes don't view
with clearer vision may lead us true.
A grander scheme of which we're unaware
the shadow'd folk may seek to share.
'Till like a picture puzzle fitted tight,
we get the sense of things in sight.
Should these shades' acts and words prove right
whether they walk by day or night,
Is it not prudent to listen then
than follow the vagaries of men?
Copyright �2010 LarryCopeland
The Fey
The fey among the trees do fly
when twilight comes and dark is nigh.
If we've been gifted of the power
to speak with those at that hour,
as with a clan be taken in
and linger in the faerie glen.
They will not turn their backs away,
but listen to what we have to say
and act perchance on our behalf
with the strength of an oaken staff.
While mortals slumber in their bed
when vivid dreams dance in their head.
Like the fey, this fact I know
I am the night, the starlight glow.
When comes the sun at early dawn,
pow'r is sent, the course is drawn.
Though they seem to fade away
as stronger grows the light of day.
Be not decieved by our own sight,
for the veil is thin and slight.
If they are kin as they ought to be,
they're with us though we cannot see
until once more the twilight hour,
'tis then again we feel their power
and among the trees they fly
when dusk is here and dark is nigh.
Copyright �2010 LarryCopeland
I Knew A Man Once
I knew a man once who railed you see,
a girl he sought went camping with three.
Three guys that is to only one girl!
His anger blazed as his thoughts whirl.
But lo an behold, after 4 years pass
he went camping four guys with only one lass!
The moral to learn and a moral there be.
We should not fall prey to hypocrisy.
Copyright �2010 LarryCopeland
The Gloaming
THE GLOAMING IS A MAGICAL TIME
BETWEEN THE DARK AND LIGHT.
EVER SHALL I SEEK IT'S TIME
FOR IT'S TIME IS RIGHT.
THE SUN WITH ALL IT'S DAZZLE
SEARS IMAGINATION AWAY.
IN DARKNESS THEN THE VISIONS
WITHOUT FACTS HOLD SWAY.
SOME WILL OFTEN SEEK TO TROD
THE BRIGHTLY LIGHTED PATH.
WHILE OTHERS SEEK TO WALK
IN DARKNESS AND IN WRATH.
WITHOUT LIGHT, THERE IS NO DARK.
THE REVERSE IS LIKEWISE TRUE.
IS IT NOT THEN WISER
TO WALK BETWIX THE TWO?
IN THE GLOAMING THERE IS SOLACE.
THERE IS ALSO STRENGTH AND POWER
SO WHETHER IT BE BRIGHT OR DARK,
HELP'S AT THE NEEDED HOUR.
TO SOME THIS MAY SEEM FOOLISH
ALMOST LIKE A DONKEY'S BRAY.
BUT THOSE WHO WALK THE GLOAMING
SEE IT QUITE ANOTHER WAY.
Copyright �2010 LarryCopeland
Shine
I DREAMED I DIED AND WENT AWAY
TO THE PLACE WHERE DEAD FOLKS STAY.
THERE WERE NO BODIES, ARMS OR LEGS
THESE ARE NOTHING BUT THE DREGS.
WE DWELT IN BRILLIANT LIGHT ALONE
THE SPIRIT ONCE WITHIN NOW SHOWN.
HOWEVER, THERE WERE THOSE THERE TOO
WHOSE LIGHT WAS DIM AND ALL ASKEW.
WITHOUT WORDS, I QUERIED THIS,
TO OTHERS IN THAT PLACE OF BLISS.
"THEY ARE ONES" WAS THE REPLY
"WHO THOUGHT THAT THEY WOULD NEVER DIE.
THUS ENTERED IN THE SCHEME OF THINGS
TO GET WHAT FAME AND FORTUNE BRINGS.
PRIDE AND EGO, WORKS AND ALL
BEFORE ETERNITY DOES PALL.
YET THAT IS WHAT THEY VAINLY SOUGHT
THEIR LIGHT IS WHAT THEY HAVE WROUGHT.
THEN THERE ARE THOSE WHOSE SHINE ABOUND,
THEY WERE NOT BY EARTHLY THINGS TIED DOWN,
BUT SOUGHT THE "NARROW", ROCKY WAY
FULL OF HARDSHIPS AND DISMAY.
WHO WALKED IN TRUTH AND HONESTY
NO MATTER WHAT WOULD EVER BE,
AND WORKED WITH THAT INTERNAL LIGHT
SO THEIR SHINE IS EVER BRIGHT."
SUDDENLY, I WAS AWAKE.
MY, OH MY, THE HEAD DID ACHE.
THEN I AROSE AND WENT MY WAY,
OUT TO MEET THE MUNDANE DAY.
BUT SOME FOLKS THAT I PASSED BY
SHONE BRIGHT, YET SOME WERE NOT AS HIGH.
THERE CAME THE WORDS FROM DEEP WITHIN
FROM OUT THE DREAM JUST LIKE THE JINN.
"MAN IS BORN OF SPIRIT AND FLESH,
YET THESE TWO WILL NEVER MESH.
IF WORLDLY THINGS HOLD MOST THE SWAY,
THEY WILL ONE DAY FADE AWAY
AND THE LIGHT FOUND DEEP INSIDE
WILL BE DIM WHERE SPIRITS ABIDE.
THOSE THAT WALK A FINER LINE,
TRY TO BALANCE FLESH AND SHINE.
BRIGHTER WILL THEIR LIGHT BE
WHEN THEY CROSS INTO THE SIDHE."
SILENT BY A MIRROR I STROLLED,
WEARY OF HEARING WHAT WAS EXTOLLED.
YET, ALSO, AFRAID TO PEER IN THE GLASS.
WAS MY SHINE DIM OR WITH BRILLIANCE SURPASS?
Copyright �2010 LarryCopeland
The Zoo
I listened as a youngster say,
"Daddy, Daddy come this way!
I want to see the fierce bi-ped"
So, through the throng, she deftly led.
I smiled as well and best I could.
Recalling youths from my old 'hood.
Who, themselves might those words speak.
Snatching mem'ries that were weak.
"Look, Daddy, aren't they very queer?"
"Hush, now, they might over hear!
It's said they know our voice and tone,
but intelligence has from them flown".
I turned to one I newly met,
our eyes locked in deep regret.
Should it be done all o'er again,
we'd have had a different reign.
We'd live in harmony with them,
their rights and lives we would not stem.
How fateful when that meteor came
and turned askew our great domain!
Those we thought less bright than we,
grew brighter than we could ever be.
I shook my head, looked at the crowd.
"My race now is not so proud."
Around me animals did peer,
some to study, some to jeer.
My new found pal led me away,
in the farthest nook we'd stay.
When nature rose up, who then knew
they'd place mankind within in a zoo?
Copyright �2010 LarryCopeland
