Just This Night

"Just This Night"

(For you, whoever...and wherever you are)

I wonder if it is like this for you...
Watching the tides, laughing at the dances of the the birds..

seeing the beauty of the trees ...
Hearing the intricate rhythms of the crickets
...and how they must give us a hint of joy as
The orchestral brilliance of frogs and katydids do ...

I wonder if you could love the depth of this writer,
and if you laugh at the antics of the thieving crow...

I see in your eyes, and in the reflection that is your face ...
you are strong, resilient...and this guides you, even when your highs...are so very low.

The salty mist from these shores have soaked my skin... for too I have pondered finding others to walk....
But now, I look for you...and listen for your voice,
a voice I've never heard, 
pondering each syllable upon each and every gust...
It is there that I can hear your voice,
Your footsteps...
It is there that i sense your candor, your smile...your light.
How childish are these sentiments of short quips and elaborate narratives that I now share with you?
You ask me for nothing, and yet I can't stop the turret that has opened my heart to you. I pray you understand ....

Toleration is all I ask for this pilgrim, this man...this soul to sing his songs of the heart ...
and fade into obscurity. 

It's the "real" that i love. The insatiable desire to know it...to be it...perhaps it would not be fair to tally it as an obsession, only a living prayer, a living moment suspended in time...every bit as real as it ever was...only now dreaming , and what might become.
These are the voices I hear....from across the pond ...to these shores where I now live.
Gregory Sexton

This Blue Train (Reprise)

You have found me...

you left my side, my mind, my sanity by the road long ago. 

But now I sit with you ...here...and alone. 

Nothing is said ...only silence mimics our conversation...

I knew you would be here as I saw you on the dark clouds that were fast approaching.

 But ...what do you want of me?

 I have nothing left to give ..nor have I more to lose. 

I can't battle you on this field; as you hold the advantage, I have no one to stand with me ...

to rally the final charge ....in shallow hopes of dislodging you from my mind. 

My conscience is my only voice now...

I ponder this stranglehold I thought once gone.

 I tell myself to hold on to the voice of reason..

to let this "blue train" pass. 

Why have I chosen today to wage this battle? 

Perhaps I'm tired of the retreat...the sanguine memories of what might have been. 

This blue train has stationed it's patrons and porters just outside of my glance. Lonliness is your choice of cruelty and stratagem.
I have known this loneliness before...

I know the rules...

silence is the code.
But I won't play to your unilateral standard ...not this time .

 Encryption will divulge the heart...to those that look to see, and listen to hear.
Tomorrow..the next day..maybe next month...

eventually you will retire from this station...and I will remain behind. 

I will be here, pondering the next journey that is before me.

 Wondering how long it will be before I see those blue plumes upon my horizon once again.

Like

My Broken Window

Outside my broken window, the light begins to fade ...
at least that's how the evening tide makes it seem...
I look into my closed mind ,
to see if I can walk the night ...
to bridge the gap ,
to keep close to me ,
the warm, life giving light...
I look outside my window broken ...
and what remains of this life ,
kneading and treading the old paths,
cognizant and privy to the new ....
with a measure of heart,
standing...with shields of Faith,Hope and Love,
I will traverse the landscapes before me,
those paths most welcome...and those not.

Gregory Sexton (O'Seasnain)

The Poem and the Symphony

THE POEM AND THE SYMPHONY

Author: GMS75

Time gleans "the sound" from you..
from a distant age gone by.

Body, Neck and Bridge...
Strings, Frets and Keys,
aggregates of this guitarra...

A matrix of wood and bone,
constructs of this Soul.

Embodied in the ink of his pen...
the writer personified -
encrypted in the words,
his art...his life -
each word and rambling
phrase, an incarnation
of the Nous.....truly, an unfettered reflection.

So too, the musician speaks through the sound
of each note...
each note, each phrase,
as if a paragragh...
reflecting sentience and imagination.

Together - they complete the poem
and the symphony...

Separate - they are two strangers
born of a common Mother.

The resonant embrace pierces the 
Heart - fingers dancing into a firestorm .... 
dissonance long removed, they chase away the distance -
forgetting that some are far removed from this joyful mood.


Mirroring one another, the two strangers renew their bond,
reflecting familiar and a courteous tones, in writ and song -
as thoughts surely become sound,
and all the while, are so evenly pronounced... 
plucked strings reverberate through the darkness, 
minor and major scales collide...
awakening the dead to life, 


....to the poem within the symphony.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

This Blue Train

This Blue Train

Author: GMS75

tasting the sweet rain tracing down my face...
unitelligible sounds and benign utterances break the silence...
i watch the blue fog slowly move in,
penetrating each and every glance of mine eye...


the blue train slowly passes by ~
soon to chase away the distance between now and then....
acquiring rights of an assumed passenger ~
warming my feet within her cabin's frame,
passing in review before her porters and residents...I ask...

what will they see of me?

who will i let them see?

not me...

not now...

i want to ferry the passageways incognito....
empty and void is how i feel,
still warm to touch,
but too cold to feel...

like this blue train...

like this choking blue smoke...

like the blue cloak of the morning fog.

meloncholy is my mask and mood,

just now...

on this blue train.  

Gregory

~ ~ ~

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Posted: Thu May 29, 2014 8:28 PM EST

From these skies...now to another

....parties to plan,
the boys first kiss...
The babie's christening party...
The house is a mess,
The mortgage is late...

Removed from the human sphere in an instant,
you no longer wait,
no longer fearing the next day...the next hour...

It is gone for you and yours.
From these skies, you have descended...
now to another you ascend.
Aloft upon the wafting breeze...
you know your way home.

There are many with you now,
but you will soon be alone...
how else to make this journey familiar?
To whom shall you turn to recognise your
fields of green?

...kin you are now...

to the shadows and dimmed corners of the parlors, of the homes
that still reverberate with the sounds and gaiety of life...
you will sate there and listen to the gossip and whispers
of which are only some distant memories to you...
but as you do...

Remember that no breeze goes unnoticed in a barren desert,
The flower brings more to the heart than it's essence...
You may have disappeared to those whom you loved and knew...
and yes there is loss and pain abound as you reach for the Sun.

The sum of every soul, is perhaps...
the subsumption of it's previous incarnations,
once missed,  thrice reborn.

Walk to the shores of your memories past.... lift your eyes
to the Light of Life.  Do you smell the familiar breeze
just now passing?

They are soon to greet you,
You are home ...
You are Safe...
Make tall your stories tonight,
that  All may relish and live your Life
once again!!

GM Sexton

(Dedicated to the 166 passengers that perished over they skies of Indonesia yesterday)

"....Having Never Left"
(For My Beautiful Love....Sally)


...it parts from me ever slowly,
the chance and the pace of a not so distant past...

...the rune suggests that all is well however,
casting times a plenty all through these winter nights;
...tumbling and resting on open and closed sides,
I peer upon the oak coins...looking for sight,
and forlorn grace.

...i see you tonight, or rather sense you here...
as though a ghost,
 vis-a-vis...
soul to soul.

Touching your face ...and openly declaring the contents of my Heart,
I pour the sacred mead, and my promise to you upon this broken ground,
knowing it to be reckoned ,  and soon to be healed.

I have always loved you...
souls having touched once...
remain steady, despite the facade of separation.
this I know,

I have always loved you.

....having never left,
I will always love you.


Gregory M. Sexton 12/07/14