Gulf Coast Prayers...

Post by AquarianM on Aug 30, 2008 at 9:54pm

Gulf Coast Prayers...

Reading, hearing seeing, dreading.

The weak among us are running for their lives,
The lives scattered and broken for three years,
Faded for many of us,
Ignored by the seemingly strongest of us.

The monster Gustav comes howling and all you can do is beg.

Beg the sky to be gentle,
Beg the sea to forgive and rock softly,
Beg God to forgive our errors and protect our brothers and sisters.

This is why many never went back home.

This comes before we're even close to cleaning up the last one.

If we could reach out and pull them North we would.

Pray, pray, pray - for mercy.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
08/31/2008 - copyright donated to public domain.

Sunfish...

Post by AquarianM on Sep 2, 2008 at 12:10am

Sunfish...

Sunfish flicker all over the bottom,
Rippling in steel-blue water neck-deep,
Dodging sand puffs from my feet,
Wave rolls lift and sputter,
Cold-shock gone as I dive,
Lake Michigan on an August afternoon.

Roll and splash I wade ashore,
Polished flat rocks in soft hot yellow sand,
Sea Gulls scamper and beg all about,
Walking wet and drying in sunshine,
I search driftwood for a beach trail sign.

Greyed-out dead stick and a magnifying glass,
Teaching a child a new art,
I burn the beach onto wood.

Sunset comes softly,
I blast my harmonica at last rays amidst sand grasses waving goodnight.

I walk up the dune like summer waning - stressless.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 08/29/2008

Artists’ Card Project – Ace Of Hearts

Working on a project with 54 other artists, mostly from the Madison, WI area, to create a deck of cards. I picked the Ace of Hearts as my card. Here’s the final artwork version.

Keep looking up,

Dan

Click to enlarge pic

He flashes through clouds and vapors,

Ducking birds on the wing,

Scarf whipping in the prop-wash,

A race with Cupid to be won,

For there in his sights lies the most tender target,

A beating lonely heart,

Wishing and hoping for just that one shot,

The one that ends it all,

In a flash of ever-after joy,

He tips the stick forward and dives for it,

Goggles gleamingly clear,

He pulls the trigger on love,

Raining it down from on high,

A bubble that can’t be burst,

Not even by the light of day.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford

(C) 2014 Poetry & artwork.

​
Dan Stafford November 9, 2014

For Want Of A Windmill...

Post by AquarianM on Sep 2, 2008 at 12:51am

For Want Of A Windmill...

In the 1860's a Jesuit Priest fashioned a whirligig dream,
Grew a business most successful,
'Till the days after WW II spinning water out of the ground,
All started in a little Wisconsin town.

Spin and whirl,
Pretty as a pearl,
Ornate wood or polished steel,
Pretty painted colors the life of many a farmer.

A Chicago company saw the light,
Bought the rights and moved North,
Fairbanks Morse landed in Beloit,
All was well that pumped the well.

In the 1920's an immigrant from Italy,
One Tuscan gentleman of little fame,
Landed and landed a job,
There by the river at Fairbanks Morse.

He found a wife and adopted a baby girl,
My own mother and grandmother,
So Noni cooked and Nono ground metal,
And my Mother married my Dad.

Spin and whirl,
Pretty as a pearl,
Ornate wood or polished steel,
Pretty painted colors the life of many a farmer.

Four children born there on the Rock,
Myself and my siblings all alive,
In the year 2000 I turned to poetry,
And fancied windmills could save the Earth.

I wrote poems of the graceful things,
Took my son to see them,
Blogged of the light and right,
And tilted at windmills for all I was worth.

Only just yesterday I find I'd have never been born nor they,
For want of a windmill in 1867,
The Poet who loves windmills exists because of a windmill,
Simply named Eclipse.

AquarianM

By Daniel A. Stafford
© 09/02/2008

www.spearman.org/Eclipsehistory.html

www.whizzyrds.com/Windblog.html

My Grandfather worked for 44 years at Fairbanks Morse, which would never have located in Beloit, WI if not for the Eclipse windmill. The Eclipse windmill line was arguably the most successful water-pumping windmill in American history, and also served in many locations overseas. My Grandfather very likely would have ended up somewhere else if the Eclipse windmill wasn't invented and made in Beloit - and I and all my brothers and sisters would never have been. How ironic that I have been a promoter of windmills as a large part of the solution to climate crisis these past eight years.Tilting at windmills quite simply suits me.

Boxtrolls…

Boxtrolls…

I loved this movie! The artwork is right up my alley. Some of the subject matter should be kept at least pre-teen and above, but the art and heart are adorable. 9/10

Pass the popcorn.

Dan

Click to enlarge pic

Dan Stafford October 22, 2014

Even A Peanut Knows…

Even A Peanut Knows…

I’ve never seen the Great Pumpkin,
But I’ve seen great pumpkins,
Whether or not the Doctor is in,
The football gets pulled,
Leaving you nothing to punt,
So haul your blanket to the piano,
Get ready to sing while you freeze,
‘Cause even a child knows,
What happens after the coloring of the trees.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 10/17/2014

Dan Stafford October 17, 2014

Dreaming Of Being Tesla...

Dreaming Of Being Tesla...

There’s a beauty and elegance in the olden days,
A craft of the mind-to-hand,
A curvature of style and function,
Something at once cosmic meditation and genius inspired,
If only we had the old Gods of lightning again,
Miracles would charge forth electric,
Legends walk the land and the dream,
Power arcing in our hands.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 08/29/2014

Dan Stafford August 29, 2014

Raucous Echo At Eleven...

Post by AquarianM on Sep 11, 2008 at 11:35am

Raucous Echo At Eleven...

It's everywhere,
The maudlin whispers,
That celebration of darkness,
A whisper of ghosts from within a black cloud.

The cries and whimpers haunt me,
As I wonder of answers and illusions,
It's all a matter of trust - lacking.

I saw things my own eyes tell me aren't physically possible,
I see shame and sadness in nooks and crannies across the land,
Wondering who won what and remembering the cost,
All the answers in the universe pale,
No matter their say.

Echoes, echoes, echoes and screams - I remember - even without belief.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 09/11/2008

Author's Comments:

9/11/2001, shrouded in controversy and politics, is at its heart a horror story of lost lives and lost freedoms. The people and the ideals are what really mattered, and I, for one, will never forget.

Soft Water Blue...

Post by AquarianM on Sep 14, 2008 at 3:39pm

Soft Water Blue...

At the beach house again,
Low and slow waves of relaxation,
Young relatives leaving as we arrive,
Passing each other on the sandy path that leads to and from the beach,
"Beach switch" they call it.

The sky starts off cloudless,
Sunshine ripples on calm waters,
Seventy shades of blue and waves topping at one and a half feet.

Plant a folding chair in the yellow-tan sand,
Take off the last vestiges of the modern world,
Except your suit.

The water is chill at first,
Ice lapping slowly up from feet to waist as you wade in,
At some point near there it's just too much,
You have to dive and get it over.

Swimming long and cool,
The waves and boat wakes push you down the beach,
Splashing against your face every now and then,
Reminder of the Lake's power.

As you stare out where sky meets seemingly endless water,
You remember the school of minnows that dodged your feet as you waded in.

Sea gulls glide overhead and float on the waves,
Their brothers and sisters scamper about the beach.

Sun hats and beach chairs dot the sand for more than a mile in either direction.

There is a thick haze on the Western horizon,
It cocoons you into a world of sand and grass and blue and breeze.

People walk dogs up and down the lapping waves,
A cigarette boat roars colorful across the horizon.

You sit drying in the hot sun,
Sand squeezed between your toes,
Absorbing every moment you can steal or beg - just being.

A cheeky sea gull waddles around your chair,
Curious but not quite close.

A wall of clouds covers the evening sun,
You pack up and climb sand for a shower.

It's just begun.

AquarianM

© 09/02/2008
By: Daniel A. Stafford

*Notes from last week vacation.

A Consecrated Magical Tool…

Post by AquarianM on Sep 20, 2008 at 1:47am

A Consecrated Magical Tool…

She’s a high priestess from California,
Working magic amidst the sunbeams,
Playing her harp in mystical fashion,
She’ll raise your hopes and open your consciousness,
A darling voice playing under pagan trees joyfully,
Whispering spells of love and success so gently.

She speaks of her harp by its given name,
Enchanted trance-fingers dance the strings by candle light,
When the moon is silver she’ll croon her highest power,
And take your soul on a distant flight,
Breathless and wondering,
Wood and strings she claims are a consecrated magical tool,
Just as any musician would know and say,
Upon recovering breath from when they play.

I know the feeling in my own space,
Bello glints yellow brass about the place,
I seek the notes where the magic lies,
The one that make my hackles happily rise,
For in music there’s such simple joy,
To uplift the spirit we all play to employ.

You can’t play a song to cast a curse,
Because if you try nasty noise will burst,
Over every ear about the place,
Such blasphemy flies back in your face.

You know you know this – it’s a simple spell,
When you play your favorite songs space and time are a deeper well,
Transported away by the treasures of many,
Instruments are a sacred gift,
Come God or gods entrusted to few,
All consecrated magical tools.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 09/20/2008

*Note: to find the inspiration for this piece, search “Regan High Priestess” and read the latest blog entry on her site.*

Racing The Tide...

Racing The Tide...

I built a lovely sand castle,
It sat high above the surf,
The rooms and turrets lush.

Time washes by,
Foam bubbles back into the sea are swept.

Every detail and sconce was a moment of my life,
A palace of ephemeral wonders and thoughts flashing by,
Fish in the cloud currents.

The sea is rising,
The waves always roll and roll.

I race the tide,
Trying to recreate all the details,
Here upon higher sand,
A place to last a century or a decade longer,
Just to leave a trace.

My world is Pompeii,
I pray for wind in my sails.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 07/25/2017

Author's Comment:
My long-time personal website, Word Whizzyrds / Super Aquarian ( www.whyzzrds.com / www.superaquarian.com ) is going under. I can't afford the hosting costs any longer. I will still retain the domain names, and re-point them after it goes down some time in August. I've been duplicating as much as I can at superaquarian.blogspot.com , and am doing a little more every night. To be honest, if you look at it on a desktop, I think that the Blogger site is slightly more visually beautiful. There's no way I can transfer it all in the amount of time, however. I also can't duplicate some features, and there are links around the web that will go dark. Some of the MP3 links and pictures I have on poems in the archives of this site, for example. I do have a backup of the full site, but it took me well over a decade to get it in place. The domains will be pointed at the Blogger site after the original goes nova.

Mercy, Mercy, Mercy...

Post by AquarianM on Sep 28, 2008 at 1:47am

Mercy, Mercy, Mercy...

Saturday Night Live was a riot,
All wild laughter and raw views of the pols,
Stereotypes blown up and bagged,
My stomach aches a little,
The healing of laughter,
Energy rising after a hard week,
Then the magic struck like lightning.

Duffy sang Mercy and Stepping Stone,
Hot and smoky and wild magic,
Glowing ear candy hypnosis,
I can't stop playing it in my head,
For which I'm glad,
She glows when she sings.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 09/28/2008

www.iamduffy.com

First Dance Of Fall...

Post by AquarianM on Oct 2, 2008 at 8:37am

First Dance Of Fall...

 

Waving, swaying, rustling,
Afternoon sunshine slanted and low,
Birds flocking on wires,
The tufts of grasses rise again,
September is flowing away softly on the wind,
Dreams start to take life and flight,
Turning inward we dance hypnotic,
A closeness of spirits drifts across our minds,
Bounty near and held in spectacle,
First dance of the Fall.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 10/02/2008

Silent As A Stone...

Silent As A Stone...

I never knew silence,
Could be so blue.

I never knew that nothing,
Would come from you.

Every time I try to speak,
Or to even sing,
You break my tune.

Some kind of instinct,
Some sad power play,
Something I don't quite understand,
What makes you act this way?

I never knew silence,
Could be so blue.

I never knew that nothing,
Would come from you.

Every time I try to speak,
Or to even sing,
You break my tune.

If I wrote you a love poem,
You'd dis that too,
It's something I've already,
Watched you do.

When we're with friends,
You shut me up,
Ask me why,
I don't communicate,
It's so late,
My turn,
Never came up.

I never knew silence,
Could be so blue.

I never knew that nothing,
Would come from you.

Every time I try to speak,
Or to even sing,
You break my tune.

I wonder,
Oh,
I wonder if,
The Universe,
Maybe put you up to this,
You like to keep me silent,
Silent as a stone,
Inside my head,
Locked up,
And all alone.

I never knew silence,
Could be so blue.

I never knew that nothing,
Would come from you.

Every time I try to speak,
Or to even sing,
You break my tune.

Silent as a stone,
Inside my head and locked up,
All alone.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 07/23/2017

A Few Old Friends…

Post by AquarianM on Oct 22, 2008 at 2:07am

A Few Old Friends…

Those simple possessions we live with every day,
Things close and dear to us which can't be replaced,
Anachronisms from the time they were made,
Lose one - shopping for a replacement is heart-breaking.
A Leatherman tool worn on my hip for fourteen years,
The case's belt loop breaks unbeknownst,
As familiar as the way you comb your hair it was,
Gone in a silent act of time's curse,
I bought a new one - larger and clumsier but more capable.

A pair of shoes two years old,
A perfect fit on your feet,
Shined to a gleaming polish by my own hand,
A hundred hours of daily care,
The stitching pops between leather and sole,
No longer in "style" but still my perfect style,
Their replacements leave me less than pleased,
Fake leather you can't even polish,
Totally the wrong look and feel,
Serviceable and durable,
Regardless of size a less-than-perfect fit.

A Zippo lighter I keep in a leather pouch on my belt,
Brass encased in leather,
The patterns of years' tarnish like the back of my own knuckles,
Familiar and coordinated,
Flickable with one finger,
Not lost but irreplaceable.

It's those little things that we use every day that make our lives more defined and comfortable.

Don't even get me on the subject of people close to us.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford

© 10/22/2008

On The Brink...

Post by AquarianM on Nov 3, 2008 at 11:34pm

On The Brink...

A new dawn,
A new day,
Or just craziness,
Come out to play,
They're crazy in the streets,
I'm hiding in my bed,
It's a date with history,
Be it blue or red,
Dunder blunder and wonder,
The raven caws and claws,
Thumping beating screaming might be healing,
In a crone-eyed Fate's view the Norns are weaving,
Sisters can you spare a time?

It's voting day again.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 11/04/2008

Jack Space And The Jazzcid Rock-it Sax Galaxy...

Post by AquarianM on Nov 22, 2008 at 4:08pm

Jack Space And The Jazzcid Rock-it Sax Galaxy...

Jack Space was going to race,
Twice round the big Blue Moon,
'Twas a Christmas in Outer Space,
All stars were like lighted jewels.

Jack was nimble until he sat on a thimble,
Which was really an alien space suit,
He shot past Andromeda and spun on a gymbal,
Grabbing his sax made of brass he blew his horn toot-toot.

The sound was round and flew off the ground,
All aliens were fuzzy and green for the chase,
Jack got his ray gun and kept on playin' to be found,
But the green-eyed monster was too fast and they wound up in hyper space.

Next I knew the coop he flew,
Playing inside his tin can,
I stumbled and fell and tied my shoe true,
As the critics all gave Jack the pan.

Our eyes were alive as the telescopes cried,
"A galaxy shaped like a sax - I've never lied!"

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 11/22/2008

www.archive.org/download/JazzcidRock-itSax/Jazzcid-Rock-it-Sax.mp3

The Flying Saucer Era...

The Flying Saucer Era...

I look up at the night,

Always searching.

I'll never believe in that splendor being empty.

Arrogance doesn't become us.

I want to believe.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford

© 07/16/2017

"Rembrandt Sleeping..." Poem #30

 

 

Fortitude...

Post by AquarianM on Dec 8, 2008 at 6:20pm

Fortitude...

It ain't over 'til it's over, can't always count on roses n' clover,
Strength is making it through the long school,
And still being what's at the heart of you.

Stars shine on forever - just moments for us,
Everything we do with them is all we have,
So joy had best be inside out - if not it lacks contagion,
Just when those you love need it most.

Ain't nothin' 'bout a movie anywhere but inside a head,
Out here real is the deal we all seal, choiceless but for the approach.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 12/07/2008

Mars Phoenix Syndrome...

Post by AquarianM on Dec 17, 2008 at 2:18am

Mars Phoenix Syndrome...

The board has gone dark,
All circuits silent,
Alone on Mars in cold red sand,
The poetry of endings all that’s left to write,
I am the ghost,
The cipher,
The living epitaph of a dream,
Alone on a sojourn through the universe,
My companions' signals have faded out of reception,
Yet I coast on,
Across intersoular space,
Dreaming there’s a Universe to hear.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 12/17/2008

Author’s Note:
Requiem for Mystic Muse poetry board – it seems I am the last of the last.
mysticmuse.proboards17.com/index.cgi