Gray Smoke

Thin wisps like smoke that flee from the fire,

a fog late at night, broken down but higher,

fly past the full face of a moon I desire.

Deep in this night two bodies aspire
- Venus and Diana -

both searching the earth for the plausible

fire.

But between we three, an army expires -

tis the shades of Robert E. Lee

and the troops we admire -

thin wisps of gray smoke drawn to the fire.

They swirl down in pills,

from deep darkened hills,

into fate which was badly begotten.

This mass, this fume, is all that now looms

of an army that has never forgotten.

© Marvin Welborn, 2011

Robert E. Lee; photo by Tony Russell

i've been waiting for you -- poem for peace

psst.  i'm here.  the other side of the door.

i hear you.  you've been knocking.

are you the one who tried to turn the handle before?

turn the handle ... turn it.  push a bit harder on the door.

it isn't locked!

come in, i've been waiting.  i've been waiting for you.

CHORUS:   i am peace.  i am thought.  i am deed.  i am possible.

you got distracted.  you've been here.  i remember you.

don't carry your cell!  don't watch too much t.v.  don't waste so much time!

come back to the door.  turn the handle.  push on the door.  it's open!

come in.  i've been waiting!  i've been waiting for you.

CHORUS:   I am peace.  i am thought.  i am deed.  i am possible.

i am here.  always have been.  don't you know how easy it is to get to me?

all in your mind.  your mind.  choices.  you make choices.  choose me!

do i have to shout?  maybe.  but i don't do that.

i am quiet.  i'm here.  in here.  i really am.

i can't come to you.  you must come to me.   it's just the way it is.

make the time.  choice.  make the choice.  you can.  you can.

i've been waiting!   i've been waiting for you!!!

CHORUS:    i am peace.  i am thought.  i am deed.  i am possible.

you can do a lot.  or a little.  hey... it's up to you.  but... you have to do something!

now...  it's time.  now!  do one thing.  even one.  one thing for peace.  one.

come on,  come back to the door.  turn the handle.  push on the door.  push.

come in.  come in...  i've been waiting.  i've been waiting for you!

CHORUS:   i am peace.  i am thought.  i am deed.  i am possible!

© Charlene Roycht, 2011

Door waiting; photo by Tony Russell

In defense of five

It may not be seven's perfection

Or eight's swirling infinity

Especially not three's

Godhead

Right angle strength

balanced on curve thrill,

five is a woman erect 

on a yoga ball

Lovely and odd,

five is the midway 

point to ten, that decadent

basis of metrics and money.

Five is the State Supreme Court--

when two out of three fails,

the rock-paper-scissors plaintiff

appeals to three out of five

for a more just verdict

A smaller scale than one-to-ten,

one-to-five is thriftier, more potent

Five more minutes 

of sleep is the common man's 

dose of indulgence

In minor keys, thirds

may waver, bringing the dark,

the melancholy,

but with the integrity of 

Abraham Lincoln, the fifth

holds steady, knowing

someday the arpeggio

will once again make

a joyful noise. 

© Linda Peterson, 2011

Flowering Cherry
Five petals, five-lobed calyx;
photo by Tony Russell