September

Tomorrow brings September.
Tomorrow brings the end of summer.
Tomorrow brings the season for blue jeans and hoodies.
Tomorrow brings the unofficial start of autumn.
Tomorrow brings cool fall breezes.
Tomorrow brings black nights and bright lights, surrounded by friends.
Tomorrow brings the beginning of a new school year.
Tomorrow brings the sound of thundering drums.
Tomorrow brings a sense of unity.
Tomorrow brings a time of rememberance.
Tomorrow brings a wonder of time.
Tomorrow brings a new hope.
Tomorrow brings the beginning of a spirited celebration.
Tomorrow brings September.

9-Volt Batteries

A shopping bag bearing fruit,
soggy from its journey.

A friendship born of a joke,
a mentor teaching his equal.

A gift always given,
unwrapped by its giver.

A troupe self-assembled,
cohesive by attraction.

A duty to a VIP,
unknown until tomorrow arrives.

A game of rivals,
powerful among culture and questioning in nature.

A tragedy of pride.

High School Decisions, Scene 1

Scribbles on an open range,
reminescent of my thoughts estranged,
attempting in vain not to desire this power,
to strike another man and drive him down like a tower.

Tremendous momentum rides with the quarterback,
my mind draws upon the joys of all my past sacks.
But I left football behind to continue my dream,
to open my emotions to the musical stream.

There's no good metaphor to snagging a pass,
leaping over the corner and tearing the grass,
Even in practice I'll miss the drills repetitions,
football has always been in my definition.

Phone Calls

A chain suspended above the cosmos,
carrying on past planets and stars,
a desperate grasp at communication
to an alien always concealed by masks.

The chain is made of steel
and plated in gold.

It is tethered to a great hook,
protruding from the depths of Earth,
the solemn anchorman stands at his mournful post.

The chain dies far away,
and no one is there to save it.

Ethereal Visions

Earth and rain collide
in the bright antechamber
below the river.

The currnets ring proud
against the atmosphere
combating silence.

I am sliding by
the stone enclosure encloses
and captivates me.

Completing a vicious task
that brings great joy
and staring down at the list
as the letters slide into new order.

Marching Band

I step out of the car
and am instantly charged by a joyful troupe
who thought I was dead.
Lifted off my feet,
I know this is where I belong.
The freshmen are many and shy,
unlike any others I have seen.

I learn our section is small.
The weight on my shoulders is doubled.
A large band, a small base.

I converse with the drummer
in another band
soon to take off.
We resolve to begin the hunt early.
We become professional hair stylists
and have many satisfied customers.
Asking our customers about musicians
is the best way to search.

A Short Haiku

I return triumphantly from the Great White North.
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Loyalties chosen
epic trials and choices
imminent, tragic.

Gord's Fishing Lodge

OK, I lied. Amongst packing and preparing for my trip, I didn't have time to prewrite this last poem. However, an unexpected stop for the night at my grandparent's home (I'm still in Canada, and I'm still marveling at how their highways have speed limits of 110 mph! Oh wait...) gives me the oppourtunity to post this.
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Traits die with traitors
but thrive throughout loyalty.
The family is strewn
across thousands of stars.
A son of the wild falls far from all,
but brings with him the character of many.
Unrelated features disguise identical minds,
and bonds break free of the prejudiced judge.
Ties among friends become brothers in life,
but foreign stars must stay removed from the sun.
Two different planets, yet principles alike,
that may never collide, or else they may die.

Lightning and the Sun, Part 3

An enormous oak tree retrieves my wandering gaze
and draws me to it.
Its towering heights ascend to heaven,
its white branches trapezes.
Underneath, the roots have failed to hold their soil
and the spindly arms provide a type of shelter.
From it emerges a person.
A sillhoutte forgotten in my unwilling night.
All but forgotten,
covered by dusty quilts in the corners of my mind.
Lightning smites my brain,
and my head explodes with terrifying thoughts, memories, and emotions.
I toss my life into the air and ask for the name of my savior.
She smiles and laughs.
And I awake to find myself lying on a sandy shore.

Lightning and the Sun, Part 2

Awakened by the rising eye,
I find myself on a sandy shore.
Nearby, a deserted boat dock collects green leafy ropes
almost as fast as the boat house becomes coated in algae.
I am alone on Earth.
I stand, shaken at first,
but then explore the woods I am submerged in.
No animals sound their prescence,
no insects swat my face with felted wings,
no birds sing of the dawn.
I continue on.

Lightning and the Sun, Part 1

The water is swift and icy,
and I must escape before I drown.
My fingers flail and thrash,
searching the air for hope.
My hand collides with another,
and I heave with all my strength.
Catapulted onto the bank
like the stone from the sling,
my back burns against the rough sand.
No longer in my deathly swim,
no longer the victim of a tragic fate.
My eyes fixate on a person,
a sillhouette rising from the beach.
Unable to express my confusion or gratitude,
my head slips to the ground and lulls me to sleep.

A Hearty Resistance

The shadows snatch my feet
and heave them away from the rock.
My fingers grope the rock determinedly.
This boulder is the only thing I love,
my passion,
my muscle against the burden.
The shadows shriek and strike the rock,
the clang of pickaxes confirming each blow.
But the rock does not break.
It does not chip.
It does not crack.
It only digs each crevice deeper into the pebbled soil,
becoming more massive with each swing,
more immense, powerful, and proud.

A Slight Rerun

The noodle was my friend.
We spent lots of time together.
To have been friends with the noodle
was an honor.

That's Odd...

I never understood
the way a single note
could make me tear.

I never understood
how that upbeat chorus
leaves my dancing feet helpless.

I never understood
why the lamest of laments
slips right over the major chord.

I may never know,
I'm not going to try,
music is the mystery
not meant to be solved.

Some Findings in my Notebook

Three hearts, right in a row,
how they got there I don't know,
I hope they are from a particular artist,
then maybe this could finally pull through.

They sit across the open page,
like prayers sent up from an empty stage,
A desperate wish, an epic risk,
could unexpected happenings be at hand?

A Theory on Life

Greetings to all,
Whether or not you knew this, this past weekend was a test of Blogger's delayed posting feature. My posts for Friday, Saturday, and Sunday were all prewritten and set to post at a certain time each day. Needless to say, it worked great. So, the real test comes now. My next nine posts, including this one, are all prewritten and scheduled realeases, as I am going on vacation! Enjoy!

Life is naught but a collection of songs,
telling the events of you and the people you know.
When songs from different lives meet in synchronicity,
there are only two potential results.
A beautiful friendship may begin,
or a vicious conspiracy explodes out of mind,
and consumes the sounds of existence.

Water Parks

Ice cream melting in my hands.
As the helpless outer laters begin to slide,
the icy core watches in patience.
Chocolate chips are washed away in the torrent
and the cone crumbles.
My sticky fingers scramble to contain the mess,
as the wight of the heat threatens to destroy me.

The Grass Field

Drowned in peace,
embraced by turmoil.
My desire lies among the sharks.
I seethe with anguish.
The sea's waves coo their bitter melodies throughout my body
and whisper of sacrifice.
Unable to break its vice, I lie by the bay.
Stars hide beneath the city lights,
like eyes cloaked in blackest shades.
The illuminations seduce my heart's secrets,
the crys coaxed away from the chamber.
Lights dance over the white foam and enrapture me
with their irresistable glowing bands.
Eyes closed, chests of gold and rubies rise from the water
and offer themselves to me.
But I look again, and the towering ships leave me on the docks.

The end of a strange beauty
marks the beginning of a dark and deceptive age.
Love, passion and acceptance swirl in the whirpool of insanity.