Just A Lost Yellow Brick:

Post by AquarianM on Sep 16, 2003 at 1:26pm

Just A Lost Yellow Brick:

 

Hey, it's not OZ but it's close,
Someplace that only exists in your mind,
They had stock in trade in high volume,
Once upon a time,
And ghosts falling from the windows,
Repetition shadows in the mind,
Sad place old place lost place,
They pulled the stone bulls and roosters down,
Carted them off like trophies,
Just a big gone hole in the ground,
Twenty stories of old Chicago,
Or was it millions I forget,
Anyway there's just broken Earth now,
Caterpillar tracks and busted old bricks,
The ball swung hard and thundered the world,
And the ghosts were chased screaming,
Or maybe they're stuck in the old bricks,
I took one home and set it aside,
1808 in big worn carved letters,
Just a standard size yellow brick,
Obviously made of yellow Illinois clay,
Yeah I own a piece of the old Chicago Merc' today,
But if I forget what it was,
Someday remind me,
Just a lost yellow brick,
But if it had a soul calling it home,
I'd guess it would weep,
Maybe for what was so grand once,
Or maybe because it has a home again,
Or maybe just because someone took a few moments,
And as poets strangely may do,
Remembered it for us all,
And maybe that piece might set the old soul free.

AquarianM

Author's Comments:
300 West Washington is flat dirt now,
and really it's a shame. www.skyscrapers.com/re/en/wm/bu/117342/

The Dearth Pumpkin Chronicles...

The Dearth Pumpkin Chronicles...

The galaxy isn't ready for this empire of evil,

Yet the dark side of the Farce is upon us,

In a cackle of orange mental static,

All the birds are berned,

All the children huddled.

The Alliance is hiding on an asteroid,

Radio silence,

A few lost Hilbot droids forgot the orders,

Ran into the desert trying to fire blasters,

Shot down again.

Bernie Wan is off in the snowy place,

Making plans and gathering the generals,

Watching out for spy drones,

Still dreaming of the future,

Despite a terrible blow from the Hilla The Hut.

Dearth Pumpkin has seized the reins,

Is simply waiting for Barry Obafet to leave the seat of darkness,

That place where the hum of the dark side never ceases,

There where the storm troopers dance on puppet strings,

Where droid drones are sent to electronic death.

There has been a great disturbance in the Farce,

The future looks bleak,

Princess Tulsi is even quiet for now,

But the prophecy says that all things will end,

In the dance of dark and light.

Help us Bernie Wan,

You're our only hope!


​

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford

(C) 11/11/2016

Off Our Butts And Out Where It's Pretty:

Post by AquarianM on Sep 19, 2003 at 12:30am

Off Our Butts And Out Where It's Pretty:

 

Time to get up and go,
This weather is so fine it can't last,
Sunshine eighties at a Fall sunlight angle,
September's closing slowly fast,
The greenery is still green,
The Monarchs are fluttering over the yellow flowers,
Their little yellow-white cousins air-bumping cattail stalks,
Milkweed pods just getting hints of brown and gold,
My t-shirt is caught in the breeze and it feels great,
Stretching our legs my love,
Even with the snappin' cracklin' lines above,
Even with the paved walking path,
The hawk sits on the tower over the garden,
Watching, watching us with steady eyes,
The sky is blue and the redwing blackbirds are flocking clouds,
Alive and twisting in the sky like a living thing,
The dragonflies are rare but here racing by,
The teenagers are walking the paths laughing,
The little kids swinging on park swings,
No couch can hold us,
Nor even the soft old bed,
The wind and trees and sunlight are calling our names,
Let's stroll where the wildflowers are growing,
Let's call the blue sky our Heaven,
Let's hug Summer while she's still home,
Let's get off our butts and out where it's pretty,
Become the new Americans and see the real world.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 09/19/2003

Author's Comments:
This was the day before yesterday in a nutshell.

Ten Polished Moonstones:

Post by AquarianM on Sep 16, 2003 at 1:23pm

Ten Polished Moonstones:

 

I closed my eyes,
Saw black shiny spheres,
Saw whirling colors,
Saw oil slick rainbows,
Black glass eyes in the middle of the dark,
The jade princess was drawing,
Alone in a garden,
Some sacred thing,
All calligraphy in henna shades,
Encircled by these stones,
Ten black Moonstones,
And from each a moonbeam sprang,
Ghostly pale amber,
Like ladders to the sky,
And I looked up,
Into the light years' distance,
I saw a kingdom of many colors,
Everyone dressed in strange robes,
The princess was crying crystal tears,
That tinkled like bells as they fell,
With a raptured smile on her face,
Painting and painting slow steady and sure,
Delicate strokes like flower petals in a puddle,
Spinning all these hidden dreams,
But you couldn't see past the moonbeams,
And down from the sky,
A crazy old man with skin of coal,
Crazy like a fox I guessed,
Because he held the crown,
I bowed in respect,
To the father of Dreams,
And suddenly forty red princes appeared,
Laughing in their feathers and skins,
They called the Earth child and Mother,
Caring for her with deep joy and light souls,
And I danced with my brothers,
They gave me a gift,
Telling me I was Mother's lost child,
A beautiful winged lady,
Transparent like a ghost,
And an amazing glass pen,
When you looked into it,
You could see everything,
As though through fuzzy glass,
And you could hear the whispers,
Thundering from the Lady's wings,
And thus my family muse came to my side,
And mother Earth called me home,
I fell down between ten polished Moonstones,
The pen was my hand,
And landed in a pillow dream of words,
To wander all my days,
Seeing a different light,
Hearing a different voice,
Some called the voice Poetry,
I still think it's just touches of life,
Light,
Life,
Touch,
Whisper,
Whisper true,
Heart to me to you.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 09/16/2003

Author's Comments:
Don't mind the wrapper, see the light.

Return My Colors:

Post by AquarianM on Sep 19, 2003 at 3:53pm

Return My Colors:

I saw them waving in the breeze,
Those threads and dyes of freedom,
Pursuit of life, of liberty, of happiness,
Red of courage,
White of purity,
Blue of truth,
They stand for freedom,
They do not belong,
Upon the collars of intolerance,
Upon the poles where heads hang,
In the circle of a lake of tears,
In the halls where our lives are pried open,
Like a clamshell overfed on statute pages.

I want my colors back.

I want those colors to bring tears,
Because they mean a home where one is soveriegn,
Upon the lands we've worked to earn,
Where spies are some dark shadows across oceans,
Or figments in story books,
And no one is disappeared without a trace,
Just upon the say-so of fear's hounds.

I want my colors back,
To wear with pride,
Because they represent a place of good hearts,
And live as you are.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 08/28/2003

Author's Comments:
Our rights and liberties are critical to the
character and identity of this country. There is no place on
Earth like this place was just two and a half years ago.
I want that place back, and the colors that go with it.

Post by AquarianM on Sep 19, 2003 at 2:14am

Salvation's Rust:

They put the baby in the field,
Cold and quiet-like,
Dust howls by,
The sands grind our teeth,
Only the bones fall slowly,
Time over the river now gone,
Somewhere beyond Eden,
Iron horses and hawks fallen,
Tears on our letters,
The pen at our worried necks,
Give us the quiet lanterns,
Crying behind flapping cotton,
Gifted ink and no lies whispered,
Give us the voices of home,
Send away the cold angry angels,
Give us dear loving friends,
And not some dust deviled sphinx riddle,
Born to hide the shame.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 09/19/2003

Author's Comments:
Why are we really there? (Iraq)

Clouds of Season:

Post by AquarianM on Sep 25, 2003 at 7:17am

Clouds of Season:

The sky is a patchwork quilt,
Clouds of grey, white, amber,
Bits of broken evening blue,
The sun will soon fall,
The geese and blackbirds,
Honking chirping secrets,
All the gypsy spirits in the sky,
Flowers lie before the pumpkins,
Tomato jesters still charging,
Soybean and cornstalk soldiers slowly turn to gold,
Seagulls engineer reality,
Passing a small pond,
Heron and hawk royalty,
Just give a quiet noble eye,
Soon the last cigar is ash and smoke,
Carried off in a cooling breeze,
Life is drawing inward,
Pulled, whirlpooled,
By voracious falling leaves.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 09/24/2003

Author's Comments:
I feel fall in my bones.

Outta The Box:

Post by AquarianM on Sep 25, 2003 at 7:05am

Outta The Box:

Don't look over,
Your left shoulder,
When you throw the salt,
Thinkin' by luck,
Your style will always be in,
Tell me what to wear,
To fit in your tribe,
I just can't wade in my vision,
Too far off the edge,
Of your little map,
Made of bits of cloth,
Seven rays of sunshine,
I'm the odd one in the middle,
Just on your advice,
But yesterday I walked my own star road,
And my,
Weren't you,
Strange.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 09/15/2003

Author's Comments:
Some of the silly stuff people think just because I like to
wear a bandanna in the summer. It reminds me of my youth,
it's fun and attention getting, but it's just a piece of cloth that
keeps the sweat ot of my eyes when I work around all the
phone equipment because it usually is eighty five degrees at work
in the summer.

Grace Hides In Out-Of-The-Way Places...

Grace Hides In Out-Of-The-Way Places...

Is innocence such a dim memory,
Only to be found in flowery script,
Some battered parchment in a long-conquered fortress?

Would Sir Lancelot recognize sweet Guinevere,
Were she cloaked in a business suit,
Creating the fortune of nations?

Time has wound us tight,
Busy with the bother,
Slaves to information overload.

I long for typewriters and quills,
The feel of paper in my hands,
The quiet that falls with darkness that knows only stars and candlelight.

Civility and service are too complex for this age,
They are ghosts that haunt my dreams,
A song my grandparents would sing were they alive.

Perhaps Time is the name of a dragon,
One that slays us without exception or fail.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 11/04/2016

Post by AquarianM on Oct 19, 2003 at 1:29am

Searching For Cygnus:

 

Cold Red Mars receding,
Brilliant and alone,
For the moment ruling,
This land where the shadows won,
Peaceful in the darkness,
The stars, too, set in the West,
Up above the swan flies,
Hunter Orion always follows,
While princess Casseopia cries,
Jet lights way high flashing,
Crossing the Northern Cross,
Do they see my garage light go out?

Chill breezes,
Zippo-lit cigar,
Familiar click and scrape,
Rustling grass in the dark,
In the silence of the dark night,
I pull my jacket about me,
Trying to fit an October Universe,
Smoothly between the lines of a poem,
Sitting in this chair with coffee hot in one hand,
Every sound in town heightened,
Searching for Cygnus like a feast for my eyes,
As one more tobacco smoke ghost,
Coils silently around the corner,
And vanishes into the starry night.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 10/19/2003

Author's Comments:
Never lose your sense of wonder,
best savored at a deliciously slow pace.

Simple Brass:

Post by AquarianM on Oct 21, 2003 at 5:59am

Simple Brass:

The feel of it smooth in my hands,
The taste of reed in my mouth,
Some piece of life I abandoned far too long,
Battered and old,
Touches of green on gold I'll spend days,
Stressing to find the natural flow,
Remembering infancy and desperation to speak,
It's right as rain and hard as hell,
Wavering cracking squeaking,
Like a teenager trying to sing,
But none of that matters,
Not if I can strike a true note at will,
Someday I'll have different words,
The kind that don't push pictures,
But will break your heart and leave you loving it,
Simple brass but it gleams in spots,
One more bit of polish,
In every hard-earned breath.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 10/16/2003

Author's Comments:
A touch on picking back up a saxophone after
29 years.

Words are the mind's bridge - it's connection to the universe.
Love is the heart's bridge - it's connection to all other souls.
Loving words can work miracles.

The Goat Is Dead!

The Goat Is Dead!

I missed the night of Hailey's Comet,

Cloudy skies,

Was working instead.

I was asleep,

Last time the Eagles played,

No time off I was home in bed.

I've never seen,

The Pyramids of Egypt,

No trail to that ancient dusty land.

Never saw,

The space shuttle landing,

Not a single rocket take off.

But I was there,

Yes I was watching,

The night we learned the Billy Goat was dead.

The last time,

They couldn't announce it,

radio hadn't been invented yet.

Six-to-six,

In game seven,

Bottom of the ninth it went to ten.

Got rained out,

The tarp was over the field,

It dried up and on they played.

I was there,
Yes I was watching,
The night we learned the Billy Goat was dead.

2016,

The Cubs won the Series,

First time since 1908.

I missed the night of Hailey's Comet,
Cloudy skies,
Was working instead.

I was asleep,
Last time the Eagles played,
No time off I was home in bed.

I've never seen,
The Pyramids of Egypt,
No trail to that ancient dusty land.

Never saw,
The space shuttle landing,
Not a single rocket take off.

But I was there,
Yes I was watching,
The night we learned the Billy Goat was dead.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford

(C) 11-03-2016

Author's note:

The Billy Goat refers to a supposed curse on the Chicago Cubs imposed after they wouldn't allow the owner of the famous Billy Goat Tavern to bring his mascot on the field at Wrigley. This one is for you, Lenny "Pops" and Uncle John O'Hara - they waited their entire lives for the Cubs to win the series and missed it by two years. They passed within two weeks of each other in 2014.

The Goat Is Dead!

The Goat Is Dead!

I missed the night of Hailey's Comet,

Cloudy skies,

Was working instead.

I was asleep,

Last time the Eagles played,

No time off I was home in bed.

I've never seen,

The Pyramids of Egypt,

No trail to that ancient dusty land.

Never saw,

The space shuttle landing,

Not a single rocket take off.

But I was there,

Yes I was watching,

The night we learned the Billy Goat was dead.

The last time,

They couldn't announce it,

radio hadn't been invented yet.

Six-to-six,

In game seven,

Bottom of the ninth it went to ten.

Got rained out,

The tarp was over the field,

It dried up and on they played.

I was there,
Yes I was watching,
The night we learned the Billy Goat was dead.

2016,

The Cubs won the Series,

First time since 1908.

I missed the night of Hailey's Comet,
Cloudy skies,
Was working instead.

I was asleep,
Last time the Eagles played,
No time off I was home in bed.

I've never seen,
The Pyramids of Egypt,
No trail to that ancient dusty land.

Never saw,
The space shuttle landing,
Not a single rocket take off.

But I was there,
Yes I was watching,
The night we learned the Billy Goat was dead.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford

(C) 11-03-2016

Author's note:

The Billy Goat refers to a supposed curse on the Chicago Cubs imposed after they wouldn't allow the owner of the famous Billy Goat Tavern to bring his mascot on the field at Wrigley. This one is for you, Lenny "Pops" and Uncle John O'Hara - they waited their entire lives for the Cubs to win the series and missed it by two years. They passed within two weeks of each other in 2014.

The Family Muse:

Post by AquarianM on Sep 26, 2003 at 3:19pm

The Family Muse:

It's an interesting thing,
When you click "search".

Never knowing what you'll find,
Gifts throughout space and time,
Mysteries and revelations.

The greatest of them,
William the Giant,
He lived with her close day by day,
She leaned on his shoulder with tender golden whispers.

Kim the Giant's Heir,
Walking around his father's incredible ghost,
She brushes kisses on his ear in timely fashion,
And Princess Kit dances sweet moving the world,
Listening to Daddy's Love in timeless abandon and rhythm's power.

The Giant's brood are nuclear,
And the rest of us in the family quiet old TNT,
Lady Judith wanders with her hand in hand,
As they laugh a verse and lay down polished words,
And Dave Sinclair with our family in the midst gets some time,
Whiling away poor dear Norma catches whispers while doing time.

Paul Michael dances with her a jig or two,
Some day I'll see the sweet nothings she left him,
And Patrick P. remembers Lady Di under the gift of whispers,
Immortalizing the beautiful lost candle light in the hurricane,
And there she she danced a well deserved turn,
Yet Clay lies at her feet hearing bits in his dreams,
And David recorded WWII under the force of her gently driven breath.

Jorge is the Crossword Prince twisting out answers under her wing,
And Claire Ann has a subtle spirit of youth which colors her gift,
While Mr. Chris has a turn coming for a whisper soon we'll read,
James speaks to our souls and the twisted path we must walk straight,
As we never forget Simon be it fall upon the lake,
While Jana records the readings yet I bet she'll have her whisper day,
And Donna dash Skar translates January Rainbows and other rare golden delights,
And Barbara lends us pictures of the visions with the poetic way she illustrates.

Georgia Lynn brought us joy and sorrow,
Poor dear couldn't live even with the words,
But she took the time to speak with us before her leaving day,
And so the clan distant and scattered though we be,
She travels light at the speed of light,
A touch here and whisper there,
Busy busy busy but ever a tenacious delight,
The family muse lives on touching the quiet gentle hearts,
All these Staffords in literature and poetry.

What of me did you say,
I think she comes to me missing William,
Because she is often but I've yet to reach Fusion,
She is loving Earth and Sky and heart and cloud,
She led me to start watching over the family,
"Daniel A. please whisper prayers for them upon electric clouds."
My ear is always open to her,
Beautiful Lady Inspiration,
Dancing in papyrus piles and loads of feather quills,
Our dear sweet family Muse.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 09/26/2003

Author's Comments:
Thank you to Google.com, for what they had to say about "Poetry Stafford."

Last Edit: Sep 26, 2003 at 3:21pm by AquarianM

Words are the mind's bridge - it's connection to the universe.
Love is the heart's bridge - it's connection to all other souls.
Loving words can work miracles.

Infallible...

Post by AquarianM on Mar 9, 2005 at 12:20am

Infallible...

Some words spark wonder and amazement,
In placement around a human being,
Claiming to know the mind of God is one such statement.

Words on a page were not printed in holy water ink,
And the senses they were interpreted through are a pale translation,
No title of a man makes him greater than every other.

Love one another - that's as infallible as you'll ever be.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 03/09/2005

Rail Surfer...

Post by AquarianM on Apr 14, 2005 at 6:01am

Rail Surfer...

 

He comes into the car with a flashing smile,
Arms outstretched swayin' the track swing,
Thumbs up when he sees your ticket,
Morning sunlight under a Conductor's hat.

The whole train gets a dose of jolly,
He surfs from car to car with a grin,
Maybe the size of Texas somehow,
A soul shedding light with plenty to spare.

Hang ten my rail surfin' friend,
When I punch my ticket I'll remember,
Though that ride is far and whoever rides first,
I can walk below all this concrete chuckling.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 04/14/2005

Druids In A Modern Age - II:

Post by AquarianM on Apr 14, 2005 at 5:56am

Druids In A Modern Age - II:

 

Visions of ancient trees drive the mind,
Towering brown and green,
Tinges of yellow and red just touch leaves,
Rhythm as ancient as standing stones,
Visual mist breath on crystal white world,
Fade into warm rains and greensward.

We strive to connect through the concrete barriers,
Tarmac footsteps in rubber soles,
Looking at sun and moon and bird,
Trees by the houses but travel food in the cupboards,
Farmers are able to eat of their own dirt,
As long as they can hold it close and live.

Maybe tomorrow when the sun rises,
We'll remember that it's good to eat at home.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 04/04/2005

Sunset At The Station...

Post by AquarianM on Apr 14, 2005 at 5:58am

Sunset At The Station...

 

Sea gulls are swoopin' and callin',
I don't feel like a bat in the dark today,
Up with the sun and sleeping human.

After more than two years it feels great,
Sharp and alive and no slow wits,
The breeze is warm and the sky near cloudless,
Cars circling awaiting their exit.

People walking off the train in a burst of freedom,
I sit at the streetlight post writing the world,
Hello to its late evening and the sun is golden,
Spilling onto this page sublimely.

Can you see it pouring back out to you,
Making the shadow of my pen dance?

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 04/04/2005

What The Pear Tree Knows...

Post by AquarianM on Apr 18, 2005 at 8:01pm

What The Pear Tree Knows...

 

A week - maybe three,
Stately and proud covered in white flowers,
Tiny with little yellow centers,
They come in mid-Spring,
Each blossom a small universe of beauty,
Gracing the world in its brief season,
Then to fade away yellowed and withered.

They fall into the Earth never repeated,
Though many like them may follow,
Season after season in what to a blossom,
A semblance of eternity must surely be.

So long as the tree is nurtured,
Given clean rain and plenty of sunlight,
The cool of Fall and the cold of Winter,
No poisons in it's soil or air,
The blossoms will come before the leaves,
Season after season they will grow and fall.

Such is life on the Earth.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 04/18/2005

Whispers of Grace...

Post by AquarianM on Dec 4, 2004 at 8:47am

Whispers of Grace...

I see my universe as filled with joy,
I have faith and vision my needs are met,
All I desire in peace and harmony,
I am given faith and riches as is the Divine plan,
According to the law of spirit,
I see truth before me,
I am the wind,
Free,
Whole,
At peace,
In health,
In joy,
In wisdom,
Loving,
Kind,
Lucky,
Caring,
Intelligent,
Sovereign,
Blessed,
Guided by Divinity,
Intuitively receptive,
Filled with faith,
I stand upon the grace of God,
Claiming the life that is mine by Divine right,
My foundation of harmony and peace is unbreakable,
This is the tree and the root of my life,
That I may fulfill my part in the Divine plan.

© 12/04/2004 by Daniel A. Stafford