tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-45057240286688440162024-03-13T22:11:17.179-05:00Waxing and WaningPoetry by Chris SkillernBloggy Thinkinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15201861337689983237noreply@blogger.comBlogger6125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4505724028668844016.post-28385076193548306412012-07-30T17:08:00.000-05:002012-07-30T17:08:28.422-05:00Poetic Life - 4/30/2012<div style="font-family: inherit;">
<i>These are the lyrics to a new <a href="http://www.scalesofmotion.com/">Scales of Motion</a> song we've been playing at shows recently</i>: </div>
<div style="font-family: inherit;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: inherit;">
I am a lot of talk,<br />a run-on sentence, a bore.<br />I have a lot of ideas, no more.<br /><br />Pages of lovely words line my floor.<br />Is this all that I have to show? Lord, I want more.<br /><br />I'm theoretical.<br />My life's a thesis at best.<br />Where's the beauty in that?<br /><br />I was made for more than words.<br />A phrase is no phrase without verbs.<br />Give me a poetic life.<br /><br />Limp as the flattest prose,<br />I have no depths to be plumbed.<br />I want a life worth examining.<br /><br />Pages of lovely words line my floor.<br />Is this all that I have to show? Lord, I want more.<br />What will be said of me when I'm gone?<br />Am I content to live my life only in song?<br /><br />No, I want my life to be poetry,<br />poured out like a well of ink<br />on the pages of history<br />or at least in lives of those I meet.<br /><br />I want grace in every part of me,<br />not just in the words I sing.<br />I want passion and melody<br />to be the essence of me.<br /><br />I was made for more than words.<br />A phrase is no phrase without verbs.<br />Give me a poetic life.</div>Bloggy Thinkinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15201861337689983237noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4505724028668844016.post-28444077403605118212012-06-19T11:56:00.001-05:002012-06-19T11:57:56.347-05:00Tanka TrialsWhy does a writer<br />
write a little bit each day?<br />
It's like working out.<br />
Each sit-up may seem minor,<br />
but persistence makes you strong.<br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>- 9/27/10</i></span><br />
<br />
DVD seems quaint.<br />
"Clean surface with liquid soap."<br />
I think of childhood,<br />
blowing on Nintendo games,<br />
banging on buzzing machines.<br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>- 9/27/10</i></span><br />
<br />
This life is too short<br />
to call anyone you know<br />
"just an acquaintance."<br />
You're missing out on so much<br />
by not knowing them better.<br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>- 6/18/12</i></span>Bloggy Thinkinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15201861337689983237noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4505724028668844016.post-17409405906066778942012-06-19T11:46:00.001-05:002012-06-19T11:46:45.242-05:00Tepid - March 26, 2012My blood runs tepid,<br />
Cooled by such easy access<br />
To first-world air conditioning.<br />
<br />
My blood runs tepid,<br />
Warm enough to inspire talk<br />
If not movement.<br />
<br />
My blood runs tepid,<br />
Tepid like a long idle cup of tea<br />
And just as unappetizing.<br />
<br />
Light a fire under me,<br />
For I do not want<br />
To be spit out.Bloggy Thinkinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15201861337689983237noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4505724028668844016.post-55859684349524807552012-06-14T00:54:00.000-05:002012-06-14T01:00:08.289-05:00Real Food - April 30, 2012I take the wonders of hope and grace for granted.<br />
I was raised on this diet,<br />
Fed it as a child,<br />
And I experienced it as I grew.<br />
Not until I speak with one<br />
Who doesn't understand it<br />
Do its wonders unfold for me again.<br />
How can one know what grace tastes like<br />
Having never tasted it?<br />
How can one recognize hope<br />
Having never seen it?<br />
Communion is more than bread and wine.<br />
Take and eat,<br />
Then share with those who have none.Bloggy Thinkinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15201861337689983237noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4505724028668844016.post-9538183839280956392012-06-13T15:54:00.001-05:002012-06-13T15:54:07.345-05:00A Selection of Haikus, 2008-2011Fall anew each day.<br />The ice thaws but then returns.<br />Indian winter.<br />
<i><span style="font-size: x-small;">-10/22/08</span></i><br />
<br />
The sun is falling.<br />
The edges of gray clouds glow.<br />
The sky grows weary.<br />
<i><span style="font-size: x-small;">-9/26/10</span></i><br />
<br />
The pen is clicking<br />
a nervous drum beat, a song<br />
of waiting, restless.<br />
<i><span style="font-size: x-small;">-9/26/10</span></i><br />
<br />
I know it's winter<br />
when the sun goes home from work<br />
the same time I do.<br />
<i><span style="font-size: x-small;">-11/27/10</span></i><br />
<br />
Kids and dogs believe<br />
the world revolves around them.<br />
I suspect it's true.<br />
<i><span style="font-size: x-small;">-7/17/11</span></i><br />
<br />
Texting my fiancee.<br />
Tempted to write everything<br />
in haiku form.<br />
<i><span style="font-size: x-small;">-9/26/10</span></i><br />
<br />
Five syllables here,<br />seven syllables right here,<br />and five more to close.<br />
<i><span style="font-size: x-small;">-10/22/08</span></i>Bloggy Thinkinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15201861337689983237noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4505724028668844016.post-25394331420778561332012-06-13T14:33:00.000-05:002012-06-13T14:33:47.133-05:00Night - November 10, 2009Sometimes the night alone’s the perfect sound,<br />For ears that are worn down by noisy lives,<br />Upset by sudden blasts of evening storms,<br />Uneasy from the ringing that abides.<br />
<br />
The music of the stillness in the air,<br />The soothing song of nothing all around,<br />The comforting melody of the dark.<br />Sometimes the night alone’s the perfect sound.<br />
<br />
Sometimes a darkened highway can be home,<br />When all that lies ahead remains obscured,<br />The only cares are kept nearby in headlights,<br />The road in rearview mirrors has been blurred.<br />
<br />
Two headlights on a highway heading somewhere,<br />Spotlighting speeding white lines as they roam,<br />Dim moonlight glowing through lethargic clouds.<br />Sometimes a darkened highway can be home.<br />
<br />
Sometimes the stillness is our only answer.<br />Sometimes the darkened highway’s all we see.<br />And if we had a God who was no mystery,<br />Indeed, what kind of God, then, would He be?<br />
<br />
The music of the stillness in the air,<br />Nothing more than a whisper to be found,<br />The comforting melody of the Holy.<br />Sometimes His night alone’s the perfect sound.Bloggy Thinkinghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15201861337689983237noreply@blogger.com0