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Les Dalgliesh / Blog

True Love

I think it was her neck That I loved the most It was long And rounded So smooth

She would sit on my lap Her body pressed against me My arm draped around shoulders That fit perfectly Within the crook

And when my fingers would play Gently upon her I could feel warm Satisfying sounds Resonating from within

God I loved That old guitar

Blood and Feathers

My god! What have we become? So fallible Weak Pathetic Ten year old boys Shooting b-b guns at nesting birds Reveling in the joy Of killing Bragging to each other Droning on and on About our better shots The ones that killed quick All while wiping Blood and feathers From our quivering hands

Drought

The fields Where my thoughts Grow like wheat Are as dry As this cloudless sky This water-blue Porcelain dome

I squint my eyes I concentrate And still no cloud appears No thunder echoes Only the sweltering wind Rustling golden grass Paper dry

The Great Escape

I Gotta get Outta here This place is so Confining Restricting Frightening Boring Whatever I need A vacation A drink A drug A smoke A video game An internet Connection A movie A book A god A magic spell A magic carpet I don’t care What it costs I don’t care Who it hurts I don’t care If it stops me From actually Living Growing Creating Thinking Isn’t that After all The point?

Patience

The wind is blowing stronger This morning I heard dry leaves Dancing against my window Muttering Murmuring

Singing songs of long ago When human beings were free Before Cain slew his brother Chattering Whispering

The wind has known them all The farmer and the killer The lonely and the loved Tousling Caressing

Her voice is not a trumpet She cannot call them from the battle And yet she breathes Quietly Patiently

Until first one, and then another Lays down his bloody sword Daring to face his enemy Weeping Embracing

The wind is blowing stronger This morning I heard dry leaves Dancing against my window Muttering Murmuring

Dreaming

Night falls Sharp and edgy as the weighted knife blade Of a guillotine Slicing off the innocent reality Of another Autumn day

Stars ride a silent sleigh of moon A rocking horse runner Careening through a cold and distant sky While I Lie In slumber

Visions waltz like swirling clouds Chagallean colors flash Lightning bolts above the spinning mist Above my sleeping body While my head Rolls into dawn

Mortality

A melancholy melody Approaches from the east It fills the vacant sky and fills the soul A tin piano tapping A meager paper feast The emptiness is bigger than the hole

He shuts his eyes He plugs his ears He sings a simple song He tries a dance to make it go away But he can’t stop the clinking The piano plays along Unchallenged by the things he has to say

He shouts with all his passion! He screams with all his might! He clenches fists and shakes them at the sky! And still the tin piano Clinks a cavern in the night His emotions touch the weeping walls and die

That goddamned tin piano That clinking baby grand The awful noise is tearing him apart He will fight until it kills him Or until he understands That the clinking was the beating of his heart

Wanderer

I’ve been lost out on the desert I’ve been lost out on the sea I’ve been lost within this feeling That comes stealing over me

I’ve been lost among the mountains I’ve been traveling so long Finding comfort in the learning I endeavor to be strong

I’ve been seeking peace and wisdom Trying hard to understand Can there be a final answer In the creases of my hand?

I will breathe as free as morning Rising warm against the sky I’ll find fullness in the moment And I will not wonder why

I’ve been wrestling with my ego I’ll subdue it if I can I will be the space for others Be the elemental man

I will leave until tomorrow All the sorrow and the cost I will make this day my treasure There is gold in being lost

When the moment is eternal When the clock has stopped at one Something stirs within the spirit Something holy has begun

When you walk with grace and purpose When you know the things you know You can be the fertile valley Be another’s space to grow

I’ve been lost out on the desert I’ve been lost out on the sea I’ve been lost within this feeling That’s come stealing over me

Wings

Icarus didn’t know his place Man Was meant to slink Along the ground Upstart Icarus believed That he could fly

His wings of wax and feathers Were aerodynamically perfect Quite an accomplishment

He took off Soaring effortlessly like a bird Higher and higher he circled In his quest to reach the distant sun

Ultimately The wax turned to liquid in the heat Feathers drifted to the ground But Icarus Poor Icarus Dropped from the sky like a stone

All the way down Facing death from folly He said to himself “I flew!” “I flew!”

And nothing else Mattered

Storm

The trees outside Are fan dancers The wind coaxes branches Into motion I can almost hear faint music A prelude Piccolos and violins Begin High and sweet A-rhythmic Ambient Running up and down the harmonic scale Soon violas and cellos Will slide in Underneath A melody will appear Separating itself from the wash of notes A rolling Insistent song Oboes and bassoons Will round The sound Thickening With the air Other instruments Join in One By One A cymbal crash Shatters the night! A tympani roll Swells and builds! Another crash! And another! And another! The piccolos chatter! Violins shriek! Violas moan! The entire orchestra rises Swirling and whirling on blasts of wind! Crash! Bang! Boom! Boom! Boom! Green fans shudder With the power of the gale As from the grand piano A raindrop falls Followed by others Many others Sheets and torrents of falling rain And the tympani Grows softer Cymbals cease their clamoring Clouds break To the sound of violins High and sweet As a sun-washed morning And the dancers Exhausted Sleep

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