Sunday, March 05, 2017

Flying Mystic...


Post by AquarianM on Dec 20, 2005 at 8:22am

Flying Mystic...

And the Mystic flew through,
The air was cold on high,
Mountains of snow below,
A heart of love for Earth,
Was tucked safe under,
Her blanket of passing,
Stars in the Heavens,
Above twinkling joy,
His smiling lips,
Whispered soft prayers,
Stowed away in,
Sacks of presents loaded,
A red sleigh pulled by,
Reindeer flying by,
Magic and prayers in,
Every child's wrapped,
Gifts on Christmas Eve,
Round the tree we,
Gather to carol of,
Joyous celebration for,
The birth of the King of Love was,
2,005 years ago today,
We remember such light,
Shining upon all the world.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 12/20/2005

Saturday, March 04, 2017

Silent Water Runs Deep:


Post by AquarianM on Mar 8, 2004 at 2:45am

Silent Water Runs Deep:

Deep currents,
Barely felt yet they can carry you away,
Love is the current under all our waters,
Below the view of many it gathers strength,
It's flow sweeping the world with healing draughts,
Beginning to wash over us more each passing day,
The thirst souls have they were too numb to even know,
Now quenched in peace and harmony,
Flowing stronger and stronger for all to see,
We shall swim with it,
The waters no longer silent,
Yet the deepest of all.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 03/08/2004

Author's Comments:
More and more souls are becoming awake. Thank God for that.

Friday, March 03, 2017

For The Love Of Life...


Post by AquarianM on Oct 17, 2005 at 3:31pm

For The Love Of Life...

I will whisper incessantly of the beautiful things I find,
The alive things and the necessary things and all that holds us up,
I will never remain silent as fools' errands are run,
I will show the glory of Mother Earth in all it's forms,
Be it God or any superior notion that created this,
It was never ours to destroy,
For the love of life I will walk through dreams and nightmares,
I will point my finger to the Moon's tides at night,
I will wash the shores of souls like a rolling wave that never sleeps,
For the greatest gift of life is love,
The Universe would share none without the other,
For the love of life I can never leave you alone,
Until you understand the sacredness of every seed,
Man - raise your intellect to walk hand in hand with that from whence you came,
In walking roughshod over your Mother's unconditional love you spell doom,
In working with in the stead of domination you find Grace,
And only Grace will suffer you to live,
Or have you learned nothing of true efficiency in the struggle to heights,
For the love of life...feel love.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 10/17/2005

Thursday, March 02, 2017

Fields of The Tawny Days...


Post by AquarianM on Oct 19, 2005 at 12:55pm

Fields of The Tawny Days...



Flowing like gold across the field,
Lost in an endless sea of breeze and waving amber,
Life floats upon the sky that seems boundless,
To walk here is to be healed,
To live here is to understand the cycle of life with intricacy,
A season and a season's passing,
Promises of renewal too priceless to forget,
In this vast place called the Heartland,
Here the Mother whispers in her childrens' ears,
Awaiting the embrace both so desperately need.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 10/19/2005

Wednesday, March 01, 2017

Seasonal Detail...

Post by AquarianM on Oct 21, 2005 at 4:53pm

Seasonal Detail...



The beauty in the small things is priceless,
An eye close to the world so seldom reviewed,
What falls to the ground un-noticed is of short duration,
A day or two too late and everything changes,
Too early and it's not at your feet,
A world all around you singing a song in color and whistling wind,
Look and listen closely now and again,
In the still small places so few choose to go a universe awaits,
Poems can fall to the ground and become of the Earth,
Leaves upon the human tree and the ground that nourishes,
All around you just waiting for a moment of intention,
Or lost in the lack of attention,
You choose the colors of your own Fall,
Twisting and turning in the breezes of life,
What do you whisper into the winds?

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 10/21/2005

Tuesday, February 28, 2017

The Mars Effect...


Post by AquarianM on Oct 28, 2005 at 3:07am

The Mars Effect...



It last came so close in A.D. 2003,
And a nation of law turned to its first un-provoked war,
The Red Planet was burning in the sky,
God of anger was rending spirits from their bones,
Looking for what wasn't there while Baghdad burned.

Marching along in the sky he raged far and wide,
The anguish and misery festering like a boil under the skin,
Maimings and flag-draped heroes falling home,
Angry faces in the desert exploding with rage,
Giving a "go home Yankee" bang on every street corner.

October first 2005 saw the warrior planet start walking backwards,
Mars retrograde at his closest approach in 60,000 years this Halloween night,
Right next to the severed head of the Medusa,
A malignant star called Caput Algol whose baleful glow has darkened history,
A time for leaders to lose their heads or their way,
Time for a very cautious step as the stars are serving dangerous beauty.

When you see the sky on Saturday night,
Look for his baleful bright red eye in the East,
And wonder which way the knives of fate will dart,
It's a whole new era rough and tumble starting in,
Yet when the Red God finally wanders away,
Will we recover from the Mars effect?

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 10/28/2005

Author's Comments:
For more insight on this particular Mars retrograde, see the below two linked sites.
Mars retrograde occurs when the planet appears from our perspective to be moving
backward across the sky. It's strongest effects are at the "station" points, where the planet
appears stopped in the sky, and it lasts until the planet passes back over the point where it
first stationed and starts gaining ground in it's proper direction again.

www.astrologycom.com/marsret.html

www.astrologycom.com/marsred05-1.html

Monday, February 27, 2017

Mile Markers...

Post by AquarianM on Oct 25, 2005 at 7:11pm

Mile Markers...



Another mile whispered by,
A season on the road behind,
As daylight fades into starry night,
Where do we seem to fly?

Every leaf of memory fallen away and passed,
Another piece of existence and I wonder,
Is there a great book somewhere,
Something it will take an eternity to read,
Speaking volumes about love and lies,
What would it say of me and mine?

Another year now passing by,
Tires on pavement moaning hum,
Who sits in the passenger seat,
Are they filled with happy love,
The radio is a small thing - just part of the road,
Blaring out things out of sight of pavement.

It's nice to know of pot holes and rain clouds,
When to roll the windows down,
But kissing in the back seat under red Autumn trees,
That's what seals the gold of summer to my heart,
The foundations of you and me,
A leaf in a vast pile rather than one swirling in the breeze.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 10/25/2005
"For Saren."

Sunday, February 26, 2017

Exposure...


Post by AquarianM on Nov 10, 2005 at 8:07am

Exposure...

The lies that are told are no longer on hold,
The ice is all melting to reveal what it kept,
Every corner is filled with light,
Angels are circling and guiding moonbeams through the cobwebs,
The covers are all thrown back,
Pulled wool now faces Spring's sharp shears,
The scales will creep back into balance,
All the creeps will find dark corners,
Standing behind iron-barred shadows,
Sunlight streams into the cell they painted themselves into,
Meanwhile the mystic walks with a wooden staff,
Mumbling sunshine spells for poets to spill,
An afterthought of the Green Man dancing beneath Autumn trees.



AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 11/10/2005

Saturday, February 25, 2017

Nursery...


Post by AquarianM on Nov 10, 2005 at 8:09am

Nursery...

They call him Orion and he hunts the night skies,
Appearing above just as Winter wakes from Summer's heat,
You can see a sword hanging at his belt in the cool nights,
Yet not so many know what it guards,
What drives the hunter to the drawn bow.

A mystery it took Galileo and at least a century to resolve.

Right there,
Tucked away in that sword sheath,
Orion's nursery - a nebula where new stars are forming,
The fires of creation lend their soft glow to our nights,
Gracing Fall nights with a harvest of new light,
I've always wanted to go there.

The first thing I ever pointed a university telescope at.



AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 11/05/2005

Friday, February 24, 2017

Falling Leaves...

Post by AquarianM on Oct 25, 2005 at 9:07am

Falling Leaves...

Leaf falls slowly down,
Orange Autumn sign of God,
Beautiful cool rain.

By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 10/25/2005

Thursday, February 23, 2017

Under Charcoal Skies...

Post by AquarianM on Nov 14, 2005 at 9:18pm

Under Charcoal Skies...



The winds are dancing the trees like wild Heathens,
Shuddering the last of their leaves from branches too chill to resist,
Cold rain drops fly down coat necks as we lean into our steps,
Awaiting the hushed blanket of white we're soon promised.

Swirling multicolored leaves tornado in the streets,
Rustling at the door like lost waifs in a magic palette,
Burning with the last wisps of the harvest season,
About to gift the Earth for the new year's growth to come.

The black shapes of geese and sparrows punctuate the dimming light,
Their flowing geometry in flocked flight a sign of abandonment,
The Sun is falling South and so shall they,
Bursting from the cornfields of dimming gold stubble and bare-stick trees.

Bluster faces those who decorate the landscape,
Braving the washed-out light of Autumn's wane,
Seeking the soul secrets within this simple grey space,
Walking the Earth paths under charcoal skies.

All these skies' promises whisper simply of curtains of white.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 11/14/2005

Wednesday, February 22, 2017

Just A Dustin'...


Post by AquarianM on Nov 16, 2005 at 11:13pm

Just A Dustin'...



Eighteen degrees on a silent night,
Minus eight if Centigrade is your right,
A few fat flakes dancing all about in a swirling breeze,
Two coats with a scarf and ear muffs,
Don't forget the gloves or your fingers will freeze.

It's that time again,
Wishing for Summer a fruitless test,
Yet lest we forget - it's Lady winter who lets life rest,
A cycle we all really need,
Endangered seasons all to meet the need for speed.

When you glide down a slippery road,
Try it with snow shoes all wrapped up in the hush of the night,
Remember all the miracles of icicles and frost,
Adulthood left your Winter magic in ruins you say,
Still it's up to you if your inner child is really that lost.

So even just a dustin' -
It's far better than nothin' -
Let Mother Earth heal a bit before balmy days,
Time enough before Spring showers or harvest to reap,
Gaia is tired and weary - we must let her sleep.

For myself and piece of mind,
I'll throw you a snowball and put a sled under my behind.




By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 11/17/2005

Tuesday, February 21, 2017

Snowflake Whispers...


Post by AquarianM on Nov 17, 2005 at 12:49am

Snowflake Whispers...



Falling in silence,
White on winds accumulate,
Swirling pearl dreamscape.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 11/17/2005

Monday, February 20, 2017

The Bluest Angel...


Post by AquarianM on Nov 19, 2005 at 12:33am

The Bluest Angel...



Tiny Angel, wings so blue-white,
Watch over me as I pray goodnight,
Let Mommy be safe and happy please,
You in your robes so blue, me on my knees.

I watch you fly in God's grace.

Tiny angel, flit down upon my cupped palms,
Smile up at me, singing, with no qualms.
A voice so ethereal and uplifting,
Carry my heart through a life that's shifting.

Thank you for carrying my prayers to heaven so well.

Bluer than the skies,
Angel with the bluest eyes,
Singing and free,
Thank you for loving me.

Fly always in beautiful childhood dreams.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C)2000

Author's Comments:
A dream, from very early childhood in Madison, WI.
This took place when I was three, in the time of the Dinosaur Safari.
I think it may have been inspired by watching a show on
TV about the Navy flying team, the Blue Angels.
You see, to me as a child, airplanes were the grandest
vision in the whole world. We lived off an Air Force base.
I lived in a world of fast jets, heard sonic booms before they
stopped supersonic flight over the continental USA.
I woke up crying because the dream was gone.

*One thing I should note but never have before posting this at Flowing Quills tonight: the entire dream was very vivid, but I dreampt it as if it were a Saturday morning cartoon that I was living in, like I was in the world of comic art. I never really had that piece stand out to me until now. Perhaps that's telling me something I should do...* (I just had a thought - the Fire Angel - I think she is my Bluest Angel from childhood) This was also my first paper-published work.


Sunday, February 19, 2017

All Aglow...


Post by AquarianM on Nov 27, 2005 at 11:36pm

All Aglow...



Wrap the lights around the limbs,
Spun up 'round the tree,
Post a jeweled star atop,
Plug it all in finally alight,
The season has begun as ornaments dangle,
A breeze chills through the boughs tonight,
Child eyes return like yesteryear,
A gift of lights and wonder,
It's all just so this first night lit,
You wonder if angels are dancing all around,
Replacing the darkness of burned out bulbs,
Glitter falls in spectacle upon the cool drizzled ground,
Under a grey sky on a windy night spirits high,
A day bathed in loving presence,
Holding hands to open eyes -

All aglow.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 11/28/2005

Saturday, February 18, 2017

A Day of Peace...


Post by AquarianM on Nov 19, 2005 at 2:43am

A Day of Peace...
It whispers under the skin like a silent need,
An itch that needs to be scratched,
We all pray we'll find it somewhere,
Under the next law where they snuck in this or that.

"Not a single drop of blood shed today."

Some of us can live and let live,
Maybe that's an excuse not to pay attention,
We think our struggle is too important for all of that,
Pooh-pooh on it all my ostrich friends.

"Peace agreements today were signed in the last conflicts on the globe."

We come home looking for dinner and the TV,
Bathing in a make-believe life instead of our own,
Wandering away from everyday miracles non-chalant,
Dulled by incessant friction like a bug in the ear.

"Poverty finally averted as the last drop of oil was burned."

It's a slick predicament filled with glassy-eyed stares,
The tired Earth is weeping of loneliness,
Her children having fallen to electronic dreams,
Too lazy to even enjoy the beach.

Just once in this life I'd love to read the headlines of a true day of peace...

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 11/19/2005

Friday, February 17, 2017

Serious Review...


Post by AquarianM on Sep 30, 2005 at 10:39am

Serious Review...

She pushes the spectacles down her nose at another Soul left to Ponder,
Closes the window to falling leaves and beautiful colors,
Her couch is lost in the Deep Dark Woods of the Soul where we lie tied,
Seeing scene after scene of questions as a quilt of potential guilt wraps us,
Stifling and hard as the coffee grows cold like our bones,
She walks out the door leaving us to untangle the wounds and woes,
Eyes locked on the channel we are helpless to change,
She has fulfilled her mission in droves,
Thin cords will bind us beneath sight or logic,
Maybe we'll discover her sister sweeter,
A certain archetypal type called simply Resolution.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 09/30/2005

Thursday, February 16, 2017

Thunder Pumpkin...


Post by AquarianM on Oct 5, 2005 at 2:26am

Thunder Pumpkin...

Since that first Halloween in the Midwest,
It's been a legend of the Pumpkin Patch,
How the Great Pumpkin catches a ride.

I saw a fellow in buckskins walking the prairie trail,
Tracking his moccasins through October's morning dew,
Walking past tall golden fields of maize in the sunrise breeze,
As a hawk circled high above he stated his tale.

"Thunderbird leaves the great water of the West,
Rising high and breathing out clouds of dark breath,
Rains fall from his drying feathers,
Lightning flashes from his eyes and after the harvest he rests,
But he has on his last flight left a special task to do,"

"Thunderbird searches all the prairies and fields,
Searching for the largest pumpkin of perfect orange,
Searches in the tall waving grasses with his keen eyes,
Searches under the trees with lightning light,
He finds the world's biggest pumpkin each year,
He takes the pumpkin in his talons to the Great Spirit."

Great Spirit sees Thunderbird coming and breathes frost upon the morning,
He knows now to wake Winter from her sleep far in the North,
And he gives the spirit of the pumpkin the power of visions in thanks,
Thunderbird rolls the Great Pumpkin upon the ground,
It is the last thunder of Summer you are hearing,
There Great Pumpkin awaits a worthy person in some lonely pumpkin patch,
Waiting to gift the people with winter visions."

"One year he gave them to a little white boy selling blankets,
For Great Pumpkin liked his toy piano songs,
Now all white men know of Great Pumpkin yet few believe,
Thinking Autumn thunder is nothing but the wind,
They do not know the value of visions in the coming Winter,
Angry at the snow spirits who help the rabbits and squirrels and bears to rest,
Because they do not believe Great Pumpkin exists,
They go blind if the sun meets the snow."

The fellow became silent then,
I heard a great rumbling off in the distance,
It shook the briars and the brambles,
The thistle seed rattled loose all around,
Milkweed pods burst open and cotton-filled the chilly air,
Flocks of Canada geese flew up and started racing South,
The blackbirds swarmed up and circled the pumpkin patch,
Flakes of snow sputtered down and whirled about,
I knew the Great Pumpkin had found a patch.

I thought to myself of taking up trading blankets and playing piano.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 10/06/2005


Wednesday, February 15, 2017

Rattlebones Review...


Post by AquarianM on Sep 28, 2005 at 12:47pm

Rattlebones Review...

Amber Moon perched on the hilltop,
Down at the end of Red Eye road,
Walk the chill spines rattling all along,
A marching band of bone flutes whistling an ancient song,
Jolly Jones and Roger too in rotted tatters they stroll,
Risen for one night - All Hallows Eve.

The band has singing notes from cutlasses,
Swishing in bare knuckled hands,
A drumming upon stretched skins,
Stolen from the Witches' lair,
They dance and they rattle their symphony,
Beyond any mortal care.

Symbols bang upon reality that bends,
Following the black flag down,
Unearthly lights in ghost town windows,
Bats shriek high over skeleton heads,
To meet the bride of Dracula 'pon the peak of Dead Man's Knoll,
Furious sticks of wormwood beat like heads the drums do roll.

Eerie honks and whistles blare,
Calling spirits of the night,
A sight few mortals shall see yet live to speak by day,
The coven is cackling harshly high upon straw brooms,
Black clouds swirling fast over every star,
The rats and worms dance quickly into the medicine jar.

Howl now - howl me buckos the ship that sank,
She's rotting upon the bottom rocks,
This stony shore we tonight must walk,
The seas are tossed and lightness black,
The waves cadence to our soulless song,
Raise what hackles you might have left -

We'll play it all night long!

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 09/28/2005

Tuesday, February 14, 2017

Gossamer Soul...


Post by AquarianM on Sep 28, 2005 at 11:52am

Gossamer Soul...

If there is a font of kindness you have drawn it's draught surely,
In the well of imagination you have bathed by Moonlight,
Dancing upon clouds you rain smiles upon the Earth,
Even filled with tears to bursting you are a light among shadows,
Knowing that to be human is to feel pain you still exude joy,
Worry not that your empathy is leaden. (It isn't so.)

If you impart laughlight into darkness then you have sung your brightest song.

Whirl upon your pedestal amidst the soulflowers,
Itself merely the earthen hill where the sunrise is your backlight,
Innocent wisdom becomes you,
As we are all graced to know your name,
When you light upon your castle's ramparts,
Rainbow wings folded shut and having done what you must...

Be filled with knowing that this is enough.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 09/28/2005

Author's Comments:
For Spinny.

Monday, February 13, 2017

Last Gas...


Post by AquarianM on Sep 22, 2005 at 9:52am

Last Gas...

"And they said her name was Rita..."

She came ripping up the gulf like a bad Godzilla swarm,
Mother Nature's take on B-flick horror,
Headed straight for the refineries like a tight-wound white steamroller,
Storm surges higher than twenty feet.

Those silvery Moonlight beaches of Galveston I remember will never be the same.

The pundits were screaming five bucks plus and lines at the pumps,
The stocks were at the bottom and digging for China,
Guess they had a bamboo handle on the shovel,
And all the heat in the Gulf these days must go somewhere.

Straight for the source of the tailpipe emissions.

Houston to the station - mayday, mayday, mayday,
We're on an evacuation route doing ninety North and dodging busses,
Not sure how long the cell phone will hold out,
Give our regards to Moscow and tell 'em we're sorry but runnin'.

Texas may be big but it's about to be flat.

The white clouds are swirling and underneath it's black as night,
Another three million gallons a day capacity under Mother Nature's heel and squished,
The Earth herself is nuking the source of the sickness better than Commies on steroids,
She's not whispering at all anymore folks - close the moon roofs on your SUV's.

How many more oil company CEO's you wanna elect now?

Guess we here in the North are going to be doing tent cities and soup line set up,
The refugees are on the roll again poor souls - their erstwhile hosts are joining the caravan,
So now the shoe is on both feet tight and hurting bad to blistering,
And half of us plus the computer glitch didn't want to buy the pair.

Shoulda listened to those environmental folks 'cause today is the Last Gas.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 09/22/2005
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
*Author's note: I wish I didn't feel compelled to write this. I wish we collectively had been doing our homework over the past twenty years. Still, I feel it needs to be said and I am done holding back any longer. It is time to speak out in earnest. There are those of you who may disagree with what I am saying. The root of it is this: Casual treatment of our nation's energy technologies and a failure to restrain capitalism from going too far into a land without true ethics is laying waste to our world. Do you really want to witness the entire Earth becoming a wasteland?*

Sunday, February 12, 2017

As The Ages Speak...


Post by AquarianM on Sep 25, 2005 at 9:12pm

As The Ages Speak...

I was staring a 19th century Navaho poet in the words this afternoon,
Then surfing Neruda's private seas en ingles y espanol,
Hearing the call to love the Earth with the bonds of stewardship,
A duty simply laid upon man and forgotten in conveniently complex fashion,
The albatross of sanity was flying jigs as I looked beneath a carpet of customs.

Legends and Genesis from three continents cry as the butterflies pass by,
Multicolored threads woven through a fabric of life once lush and rich,
Lunatic shears born in five fingered hands sever such yarn as they may find,
Convinced of dominion yet holding no understanding of the shape of that mountain,
Blindly following the blind searching for a candle already laid at their feet out of sight.

No host need come down nor Almighty lift a finger,
Walking the highway to Hell is all down hill from here,
Girded by entrenched walls of silence and fear,
We were given a job and our fears have hands in the small of our backs,

As we lie down and the clocks tick by a Revelation nears our door and it is Us,
Stagnated in the walls of tradition and habit and who do you know deals,
Speaking of ideals in nonchalant splendor and failing to live His word or our own,
What we speak and live is what defines us and our fate.

The time of Tribulations is rooted in a simple failure of vision, social compact, and too-glued traditions -
All God has to do is sit back and watch; all we have to do is Steward the Earth and each other,
As the ages speak of Tribulations come and gone only now we can do it bigger and bolder,
Such is the nature of duopoly consisting of duty and free will.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 09/25/2005

Author's Comments:
I saw a poem written by a poet I admire and respect the other day, suggesting we were entering the Revelationist time of Tribulations described in the Bible. Perhaps she is right - but if she is it is only because of our own collective insanities. That doesn't mean God doesn't exist - it just means I believe we've been screwing up badly enough on our own that we'll easily be able to fulfil prophesy if we so choose without Him doing anything.

Saturday, February 11, 2017

Of Whispers And Secrets...


Post by AquarianM on Sep 17, 2005 at 12:23am

Of Whispers And Secrets...

In the calm place that should be my mind the words are winding up to pitch,
I lay on the cotton thick and darling - unprepared to sort wheat from which,
Internal ear muffs and denial like ambrosia for the blind,
I see too much and hear too much and live in interesting times.

The muse comes and lays down tracks like a rock star in high fidelity.

There is no ignoring the pace of the race that no one seems to be winning,
Insipid whispers howling and faces all around scowling,
Tied up like rats in the maze when we only need to let the words go soft,
Find the strength it takes to abandon fears of weakness and bear the character of kindness.

It's written in ancient books and modern songs what salve to the wounds we must find.

The answer my friend is blowing in the winds of change and potential is charging,
Spiritually the way to love can not be forced or coerced or feared into being,
Only one path leads to salvation founded in mortal coil or spirit,
As He said love thy neigbor as thyself - stop treating yourself so badly.

Love is a slow and undefined path where fear is a greased toboggan run to doom.

When you open your eyes and ears fully what voice are you choosing to hear,
Faith or fear and love or lies - in this space there are no shades of grey,
There are two kinds of angels and I prefer those that fly rather than crawl,
The ones who simply state and never whisper.

Honestly - Love needs no secrets.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 09/17/2005

Friday, February 10, 2017

Milkweed Magic...

Milkweed Magic...



Soft silk bursting to float on chill Fall air,
Milkweed pods like cotton puffs release their aviators,
When the winds kick up and a hawk circles amid swirling white motes,
The sun breaks through the grey cloud fluff and mist,
A single beam onto the amber and straw prairie below,
Lancing through the center of a flotilla of Canada geese,
Lazing down a little Midwestern river,
Their follow-on mallard groupies quack and dive,
The world is slow and at peace.

Coffee mug in one hand and slow cigar in the other,
I smoke signal the sky along the walking path,
Watching toast-gold thistle crowns swaying in the breeze,
Ruling over rustling gentle bleached yellow grasses,
Yellow tiny butterflies flutter around the occasional regal monarch,
Tiny denizens daring the silvery spin of spiders' web,
Giant oak and walnut trees tower over the maple,
Red or yellow or orange or rust with sugar maples for company,
The thickets and the canopy full of bird chatter,
Flocking blackbird pit stop full of brown sparrow gossip,
The robins too good and cheery to participate,
My steps are slow and soaring easy over the path.

Feeling connected to the Earth I walk this path of peace.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 10/13/2005

Thursday, February 09, 2017

Benny The Bug's Fall Diner...

Benny The Bug's Fall Diner...



Heh-Heh,
Step it slow and cautious down my block kid,
You never know who'll punch yer lunch ticket,
Better fly high right on by,
It's a hungry day and I've got a thousand babies to feed,
I've climbed the ladder and I'm all set,
It's the Halloween hustle if you come too close,
I've got a sticky spell better than most,
A cold and calculated contract to fulfill,
I'm a bug-eyed bandit out for a thrill,
I'll sit at a witch's door full of poison brew,
Bite a black cat or a Druid what's more or even you,
Come see the pretty silvery shadows that shine,
I'm Benny the Bug and your carcass is all mine!

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 10/14/2005

Wednesday, February 08, 2017

Mister Scott's Final Miracle...

Post by AquarianM on Oct 15, 2005 at 1:18am

Mister Scott's Final Miracle...

He's going back up,
High up into the black silent void,
Where the stars never blink in myriad colors,
Riding a quaint old rocket's roaring flame,
No impulse nor warp nor ion drive,
Although he'd "miracled" them all at some place or time,
Now his ashes will orbit the Earth as is only fitting,
A little something he engineered while still alive,
The inspiration of thousands of engineers,
Aye Cap'n and a star to steer a teary eye,
They twinkle and sparkle don't ye know,
Mister Scott's final miracle utterly fitting and right,
God bless you James Doohan as you ride the endless ebony night,
For this time, you've gone where every man has had to go before.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 10/15/2005

Author's Comments:
James Doohan's ashes will ride a rocket into space on December 6th, 2005, to orbit the Earth until atmospheric friction causes them to spiral in and burn up. His vaporized remains will eventually become utterly a part of all the Earth thanks to mortality, the one ship he couldn't fix. He inspired so many young people to go into engineering he was awarded an honorary engineering degree. He sails the night with the hearts and hopes of many millions, exploring the final frontier even in spirit.

www.cnn.com/2005/SHOWBIZ/TV/10/14/doohan.remains.reut/index.html

Tuesday, February 07, 2017

Dance Of The Prairie Winds...

Post by AquarianM on Oct 16, 2005 at 9:25pm

Dance Of The Prairie Winds...



Even as the Milkweed faeries dance down the breeze in whistling sunlight,
The Thistle sisters sway their crowns like a trance waiting to happen,
A seed falls here or gets stuck on pant leg there,
A little brash maybe but no secrets to hide,
Dressed in Prairie gold they play with Zephyr princes,
Baiting foxes, stags, even wolves for a ride,
Far past their honey bee pink blush and no longer green with envy,
Fall is their amber season of reward and delight,
Even in Winter's frigid arms they show but little restraint,
They will lonely-peek over pure white blankets,
Always ready for their turn at the ball,
Pretty as gilded lilies in a simpler fashion,
Queens of the prairie waving and fluttering,
They'll always gift you a back -home feeling if you look long and slow,
Sort of child sisters of Mesmer.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 10/16/2005

Monday, February 06, 2017

Le Aqua Na Sand Castles...

Post by AquarianM on Jul 25, 2005 at 2:39pm

Le Aqua Na Sand Castles...

Dreams -

Sunlight and flowing gold -

Childhood cameos built on sand -

Golden ripples on lake water -

Hours building sand castles, a green leaf flag perched atop -

Parent and child on forever's shore -

When the green trees rustle,
When the black water ripples,
When the sunlight dapples gentle waves -

The clock will stop -

I will remember childhood dreams.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 07/25/2005

Sunday, February 05, 2017

Blessed Rain...

Post by AquarianM on Jul 27, 2005 at 4:40pm

Blessed Rain...

The tawny edges of death color the drought,
The worst in a hundred years they say,
Trees of Fall in mid-July .

The endless heat drains you like a carotid cut.

In the struggle of bucket brigades and hoses,
The falling pond where moss sweeps clear the water,
Even the mud is gone yellow and cracked.

The grey skies have come and gone simply spitting upon us.

The tease of dry dark clouds eats at the spirit,
Not a mosquito whines at an ear - not even one,
The herons stare starkly at receding ripples of brackish muck.

The scientists can battle with politicians until the cows come home.

I just thank God that today came the blessed rain.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 07/26/2005

Saturday, February 04, 2017

Bathed In Light...

Post by AquarianM on Jul 29, 2005 at 11:36pm

Bathed In Light...

A soft glow flooding to brilliance,
A small blue world hanging in blackness,
Dashed with shades of soft cloud and brown,
From every corner of everywhere comes the light.

It's only source can not be found in a small yellow star,
Nor in some electric fixture or campfire flames,
Not in the harsh glare of chemical explosions,
Nor candles in windows gleaming.

It comes from everywhere and every direction,
To save us all it's name we are given,
Earth is saved through a universal gift,
Whose simple name adorns existence.

We can truly see only by lovelight.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 07/30/2005

Friday, February 03, 2017

Opulence...

Post by AquarianM on Jul 27, 2005 at 4:37pm

Opulence...

Bejeweled spectacle of grand festival,
Ball gowns floating on airs,
Silver and gold and respectable black classic,
A tea garden atop the marble mountain.

Lies and facade and chicanery.

Aspire and desire all you wish,
Leach the life from the ground of everywhere,
Everything so that everyone has nothing,
Follow the long and winding road to glory.

Who will see you in all your opulence?

A flowing gown and womb full of life,
A quiet garden of green where hummingbirds flock and young lovers lie,
Places where neighbors know your name and share a table,
The glow of a world about to bloom.

There is a path and there are bombed-out roads.

A newborn's mother cradling in arm at the seaside,
Whales spouting and dolphins jumping at the sunset,
A small farm with fifty crops and fertile Earth,
Frogs croaking on four legs and bird flocks of millions.

Who will see you in all your opulence?

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 07/27/2005

Thursday, February 02, 2017

The Masterpiece...

Post by AquarianM on Aug 2, 2005 at 12:09am

The Masterpiece...

That's what I want to find,
That poem that just makes everyone stop in their tracks,
The one that when you read it you fall between the pages and live in it,
Swimming the words like a fish,
Breathing it in like it was part of you,
The one that makes everyone I love or ever will a little bit immortal,
And that would be this whole wide world I live in,
The times that I know like the back of my hand,
I know them like water down the bathtub drain,
I swim in that every night with the candles on,
I look up and see the stars in their orbits and I know they're mine right now,
Which doesn't make the twinkles any less yours,
My notebook is a magnifying glass Sherlock,
And it's searching for everything I know,
This universe my soul is wading in,
It could just be my masterpiece,
Just one more page and I might find it.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 08/02/2005

Wednesday, February 01, 2017

Candles For Casey...

Post by AquarianM on Aug 25, 2005 at 10:02am

Candles For Casey...

Shining in the dark night's silence, soft and warm yellow glow,
As gentle as a mother's heart.

Speaking what words cannot.

Visibly asking for love and peace to prevail.

Let the mothers stop their tears from salting the oceans.

There is a book that speaks of love and where it leads.

Reason enough to light a candle every night and fill the darkness of grief.

Fill it with the light of love and hope.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 08/23/2005


Author's Comments:



Put a candle in your window tonight?

Tuesday, January 31, 2017

A Poor Day To Die...


Post by AquarianM on Sep 3, 2005 at 8:42am

A Poor Day To Die...

In the terrible currents of fear and wind and rain,
Left with nothing but their feet and maybe not even that,
No dime no nickel no car no gas,
Maybe no job if they left - I guess now it's too hard to laugh,
The stench and the heat and the waters full of death and disgust,
Six days with nothing but bullets and broken promises,
Thirst and pain and confusion comprise everything,
Bodies plugging the bathtub drains,
Call it looting or scavenging to survive,
When the world ends without a plan,
And everything that could have been done never was,
The night falls and there are no coins for it all,
The flood of eyes that have crossed the toxic river,
The Ferryman played golf and shook his cup of tin,
In a crisp suit where workaday clothes belong,
The beach is stripped bare and the attics are filled with skeletons,
By God - it's a poor day to die,
In this train wreck they call The City of New Orleans.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 09/03/2005

Author's Comments:
There are natural disasters and there are moral disasters. Some days they converge, like the last six have exposed. I woke up early from a horrible nightmare about nuclear war last Monday morning. It seems I wasn't so far off. The guard at the elevator door to the underground shelter told me to go through the door to the left. It was the entrance to a boxcar on a train going back towards where the skies were being lit up like a billion lightning bolts. I jumped the train and awoke...to the news of Katrina.

Monday, January 30, 2017

The Simplest Evil...

Post by AquarianM on Sep 7, 2005 at 7:54am

The Simplest Evil...

All it takes is a glance,
Just look the other way in the heat of the moment,
Pretend you don't see the very stones you are standing upon.

Perhaps they won't even exist.

You can spend days creating a new reality,
No need for that hammer and nails son,
The house is standing just fine.

In twenty feet of water.

The eyes that see the murky depths are countless,
Not even the computers are sure,
How many ghosts are in the rotting rafters.

Just turn away and it's not your fault at all.

The Big Easy is now a showcase of Voodoo economics,
No more red beans and rice on Mondays,
There's only a couple of groups well fed in New Orleans these days.

Maybe the 'gators and most of all the snakes.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 09/07/2005

Author's Comments:
I wish that I could be writing of something else. It breaks my heart to write something like this of my own country, but I have to. I have to call it like I see it. It infuriates me that so many people were left on their own for so long, so many resources turned away, witheld, wasted. The things I am hearing are terrible and dark. The only plus I can see is that all this darkness is shedding light on things that have long needed to be realistically addressed. It's too much to bear without writing witness for all the souls lost. The next thing I have to do is figure out what I personally can do to help, and that will be an obligation to meet at least monthly for a long time to come, because all of us here need to do what we can for the victiims. They are our countrymen.

Sunday, January 29, 2017

What Came After...

Post by AquarianM on Sep 13, 2005 at 8:10am

What Came After...

As endless as the leaves of the Fall,
It was the Common Man who came to the rescue,
Often in outright defiance or sly and clever dodging interference,
Always with a kindness of heart that graced the scenes behind the scenes.

How many everyday heroes don't we know of?

It wasn't the sensational or the angry that prevailed,
Though they seemed the loudest in our lives at the time,
Through the days and weeks and months and years,
The unquestionable truth reigned unspoken yet utterly supreme.

Open hearts are the only balm to an ocean of tears.

When the real soldiers of God came down in droves,
They shone in a million ways only known by a million more of the few,
With their weapons of shoulders to catch the tears and hands to hold and arms to hug,
What none of the investigations may ever uncover.

The exhausted days and determined knights as they battled the Devil's due.

The true leaders that made the lie of the policy glare apparent,
The little man helping the little man for as long as it may take,
You can find your answers right there and close to home,
In the colorless clarity of those truly Human souls among us.

The only thing washing away these miseries Katrina has cried upon us.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 09/13/2005

Saturday, January 28, 2017

Divination's Dance...

Post by AquarianM on Sep 20, 2005 at 7:58am

Divination's Dance...

If I light two candles which will flicker and sputter first,
Will the light upon the wall be a simple steady glow,
Could a candle flame dance like a ball gown upon a late spring breeze?

I have a question Lord and I'm peeking for signs.

In times not so distant past people would kneel in the chapel all night,
Surrounded by saints in the quiet solitude yet one of a multitude,
Calling your name for an answer.

I guess we're not so far removed from our roots.

As the last Summer breezes play around the stars,
Somewhere just before the tree leaves decide upon scarlet and rust,
I'm facing a dilemma that asks for faith and a coin toss.

It could be a word etched in an antique glass for all I know.

If I could lie on the beach by a crackling campfire,
Listening to moon-silvered waves rise and fall,
Arms crossed behind my head I would look up to you.

Will a star fall to the left or right?

Your word and your clarity Universe - this is what I ask,
Set this simple prayer upon the world's stage,
Call it a night and await what is best for us in peace and harmony.

Under grace in perfect ways the answer now comes clear.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 09/20/2005

Friday, January 27, 2017

Hawkbelly Grace...

Post by AquarianM on Sep 27, 2005 at 8:37am

Hawkbelly Grace...

I glide above as a signpost,
Good omen lying upon a breeze that graces your face,
Soft tawny sandy underbelly and reddish brown wings of silence,
Pierce the sky over your windshield,
Simple in my need of thermal energy to rise,
The death of a small creature to fall,
Such is nature without compassion,
I will share with you the message of a feather falling,
Look up at crisp skies of blue,
See the grasses at your feet before the tawny Fall comes,
Let the wind kiss your cheek and God grant you open skies,
Let the Universe itself hold you up from falling,
Bank into your favorite tree,
I am your omen today,
As you travel a good path.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 09/26/2005

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.
---------------------------------------
All of my published poetry is at:
www.lulu.com/spotlight/coloringbookforallages

Thursday, January 26, 2017

Unintentional Solar Art...

Post by AquarianM on May 28, 2005 at 10:14pm

Unintentional Solar Art...

Go to the corner of Wacker and Washington,
Turn East and go half a block,
Puffing on a big cigar with a mug of coffee in hand,
Be sure to be on the South side of the street.

Between seven a.m. and seven forty in April,
On a clear sunny morning,
The sun will shine on you there,
Warming you from one side despite wind.

People walk by in their hundreds,
Always looking forward as if to see their destination,
Barely a glance at the world around them,
Unless sirens are screaming lurid alert.

Standing in your sacred spot smoking,
You adjust your sunglasses and look North,
Seeing the buildings across the empty lot,
Where they tore down the old Commodities Exchange.

How long the lot will remain open is a question,
This view didn't exist two years ago,
May not in another year or two,
Yet for now the way is clear to see.

Look North and find the low brick,
The building with the arched entry,
There with the yellow banner,
Spanning the top of the arch.

Look up over the roof line and higher still,
Over the top of the parking ramp behind,
To the glass building standing on the bend over the river,
Leaning out a foot towards the current.

On the side of the building you will see,
Squiggles and curlicues and strange symbols,
For all the world like some alien language,
Written in the warping of the glass and sunlight.

Glowing like white-hot neon in the morning sun,
I wonder what language they speak,
If their strange and transient message,
Somehow is meant to awaken those who see.

"Look, look at the wonders around you, for miracles are always free."

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 04/27/2005

Wednesday, January 25, 2017

Back On The Train...

Post by AquarianM on Apr 14, 2005 at 5:57am

Back On The Train...
 
Hot magenta sun rising into orange indigo,
Fade to burning yellow and soft cool blue,
People stand at the station darting glances,
A word maybe here or there between coffee sips,
News paper rustles and we shuffle on board.

After the clanging blinking stop,
Blue suit man the Conductor taking tickets,
Swingin' swayin' roll past houses or stores,
Parks and factories and churches,
Phone poles stand guard like whispering sentinels,
Watching the baseball diamond tennis court swing sets,
WHUFF an outbound train whips past,
The world reappears and the buildings rise.

Downtown and into the Underworld,
Hoping for a second of window-reflcted second hand sun.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 04/04/2005

Tuesday, January 24, 2017

Soft Pink Morning...


Post by AquarianM on Apr 19, 2005 at 8:04pm

Soft Pink Morning...

Hot magenta balloon rising softly,
Only to brighten crawling across sky,
Fire-lined clouds in crimson and gold,
Birdsong greets the coffee yawns,
There at the edge of the rails.

Young old and middle all huddle in bunches,
Together but alone to await the lights,
Clanging blinking train downtown,
Only to disperse to myriad places dark,
Hidden away from sunlight for our toil.

Young Miss in the pink blazer,
Not even twenty riding with Mom,
Does she even notice I held the door,
Yawning into the seat to nap the ride,
Just another face to fade into the world?

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 04/19/2005

Monday, January 23, 2017

Just A Different Shirt...

Post by AquarianM on Apr 20, 2005 at 8:34pm

Just A Different Shirt... 
 
A different colorful color every day,
A very fine deal on the sale rack,
Ten new crisp work shirts,
Sure to fit my mood - or not.

It's a new day every day,
Not much has changed at all,
Just another shirt gets me along,
I love clean colors and sharp lines.

Cotton blue checks or orange or yellow,
Fire engine red or maybe green,
I pull ten stick pins a day,
Stick them through the size sticker.

Toss them away with the plastic necks,
It's a new color - a new day,
Is it just another shirt?

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 04/20/2005

Sunday, January 22, 2017

Morning Birds...

Post by AquarianM on Apr 18, 2005 at 7:59pm

Morning Birds...
Train ride together with all the world,
Outside the circle a touch of suspicion,
Dark Indian hair and smooth coffee complexion,
Soft spoken accents maybe of Bombay.

She disappears into homework notebooks,
MP3 player rocking on his ear,
Napping to the beat as rails sing softly,
Train sways his dreams and my pen.

Trees spring blooming drift by,
The morning sun rises pretty and bright,
Pull the hat down over your eyes Sir,
The day is long and bright ahead.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 04/15/2004

Saturday, January 21, 2017

Between Sunbeams...

Post by AquarianM on Apr 18, 2005 at 8:00pm

Between Sunbeams...
 
Cigars are peculiar things,
Most people love the scent and sense of relaxation,
Smokers - the texture in your fingers is warm,
They need air and hate wind,
Burning sideways in a strong breeze.

I lit mine in the underground rail yard,
Climbed up the steps and walked East,
Across the drawbridge over the river,
Straight into the rising sun.

The breeze was slow and gentle today,
Gulls swooping and gliding gracefully,
My sunglasses awash in morning sunlight,
The world fading at the edges.

Entire buildings appear and disappear,
Washed out in golden glare,
People caught faintly at your eye corners,
You wonder if angels travel somewhere there,
Dancing between sunbeams.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 04/15/2004

Friday, January 20, 2017

Lime-Eyed Man...

Post by AquarianM on Apr 19, 2005 at 8:02pm

Lime-Eyed Man...
 
You see him on the brick wall,
From the passing trains.

Some graffiti master's awful dream,
Eyes of green lime slices huge and round,
One half slice makes a graffiti wink.

He's got a pale moon head,
Ultra-rounded face of silver paste,
Sharp white collar tuxedo in black,
A gold ball-capped walking stick gleams in hand.

Living on a brick wall and passing dreams,
The scowl of lime-green disapproval,
Ready to guide you through darkness,
To face all that lies under your mind,
With a martini in hand and aloof.

A green-eyed monster of a dream.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 04/19/2005

Thursday, January 19, 2017

Shores Of Naked Sand:

Post by AquarianM on Jan 25, 2004 at 1:12am

Shores Of Naked Sand:

I leaned upon the rail and peered into the night,
Cygnus the swan twinkled back down on me,
There in the deep darkness amongst the stars in their thousands,
It was the eye of the Bird the Hunter followed that chilled my bones,
Amongst all the Heavens you can no longer see ashore.

The Albatross glided slowly into the night.

I looked to the bow in the morning,
Sure to find leaping dolphins and cheer them on,
Yet seeing only blue water breaking,
My eyes wandered off to the distant cloudless sky,
Chastised like a disappointed child I walked away.

The Albatross was a distant speck out of sight.

We saw a fishing vessel every other day,
Our grim-faced Captain gritted his teeth and turned his face aside,
I often wondered at that moment what iceberg struck his heart,
Yet at dinner that night he held a plastic smile,
Roast pig was at the table yet the only fish was an ice sculpture cornered.

An olive branch floated past but no bird circled above.

We passed the island at calm sunset,
Not stopping for a moment and I had to ask why,
The Mate just said a plague was there,
And I saw not a canoe under swaying palms,
Nothing darted through the bare blue sky.

True North was gone mystic for I'd never see a guiding bird.

It happened in the night everything flew across the stateroom,
We were going down yet not a shark was circling,
Perhaps some comfort in bare waves breaking upon one lonely uncharted rock,
My eyes fell below the blue and I sank like a stone,
Noting the palm trees underwater just before the stone.

I dreamed of the Albatross as my body glided down to bare sand.

Going into the light I realized,
I still have never tasted fish, Old Man.

The Albatross stared at me cold without a tear in his great red eye.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 01/25/2004

Author's Comments:
Wandering albatrosses are huge, solitary, near-mythical birds who mate for life. With wingspans of up to four meters (12 feet), they're the largest flying creatures on Earth and can spend months far beyond land, seeming to revel in the fierce winds of the Roaring Forties. They are Southern Hemisphere, circumpolar birds, as are most of the other 23 albatross species. They also were a prominent feature in a most famous poem, Old Man Of The sea. To see the inspiration for this piece, go here: www.enn.com/news/2003-01-23/s_12292.asp

Wednesday, January 18, 2017

Chorizzo Con Huevos Y Queso En La Tortilla...

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

Chorizzo Con Huevos Y Queso En La Tortilla...
 
Caught the early ride out express,
Track swayin' my newspaper 'n coffee,
Sunrise not yet sunny side up.

Shuffled off down the ramp,
Be a good sardine and no pushing,
Up the upscalator staring at a thousand backs.

Step in line at the counter,
Order my hot steaming breakfast burrito,
Chorizzo and egg with cheese no salsa.

Watch the cook flippin' the spatula,
Stuff it in a paper sack and off I go,
Grab a little table and hot goodness...

Una poesia para ustèd.

Good morning, Buenos dìas!

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 04/08/2005

Tuesday, January 17, 2017

Monday Dusk...

Post by AquarianM on Apr 14, 2005 at 5:59am

Monday Dusk...
 
Hustle shuffle feet if you want to make it,
The six seventeen just rolled up clanging,
Blinking and squealing I'm stuffing the pay box,
Two bucks for slot 610 at 6:10,
Sun glow barely warming East.

Sit on the first car behind the hooded sweatshirt,
Dark navy with the electric bluebird on the back,
Hood drops and young,
Pretty straight black hair,
Turn of ear with small black earring,
Hoop and nape and the sweats go up,
Pillow on the window soft pink shoulder,
Red tank strap sleepy.

Train sway shakes my hand slow letters,
Back yard flower trees springing by green.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. stafford
© 04/11/2005

Monday, January 16, 2017

Grounded In Grey...

Post by AquarianM on Apr 14, 2005 at 6:00am


Grounded In Grey...


 

The roof of the world is grey today,
Chilly and dripping wet drops,
Tote-a-roof people rushing with bent splines,
A floppy umbrella edge suggests a painful cause,
I duck for cover at the building edges.

Sea gulls squawk from ledges of concrete,
Grounded in the chill wet winds,
Only a few brave birds glide over river water,
The distant myriad window lights,
All the warmth a soggy psyche can find.

Across the gently bouncing rattling drawbridge,
Millions of stamping wet feet dodge cabs,
That scourge of the streets never trusted,
How fast can you spin that final revolving door?

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 04/12/2005

Sunday, January 15, 2017

By Your Calculation...

Post by AquarianM on Jan 28, 2005 at 4:14am

By Your Calculation...

The silence of beautiful voices haunts me like a cold winter night,
The stars above call without speaking,
And the faery ring around the Moon is at a quarter this sky,
Just a few hours from the rise of a brilliant Winter Sun.

Still you are swearing black-hearted and frigid,
So busy counting every snowflake in the pile,
Certain your wretched gold must lie beneath the bank.
And the glare of your Antarctic indifference may just kill us all.

Put a good woman away out of work in a dark night,
Silence the warmth of clever-jeweled voices,
For the pennies that lie upon that now bare floor shine to your fingers,
And the despairing silence is the easier course in this blizzard...

By your calculation.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford

© 01/28/2005

Author's comments:
Barnes & Noble corporate has eliminated their Events Coordinator position,
and canceled all events at specific stores that were not meeting an un-specified
revenue volume. Of course it doesn't matter that the store where Plainfield Live Poetry
reads is in a subdivision that is currently building five thousand new homes within three miles of it,
or that they had a wonderful person in the position. I just got the news the day after one of
the best readings we've had, with things poised to begin growing. I'm choosing to look at it
as an opportunity to find a better venue, but it does chafe a bit, and I am holding hopes
that the gal that was handling events there gets a new gig soon.

Saturday, January 14, 2017

Don't Buy No Rotation Babble...

Post by AquarianM on Feb 5, 2005 at 10:44am

Don't Buy No Rotation Babble...

The doctors are out there,
Spinning the whole Universe from the inside,
Total rotation of creation,
A bad day in Everyland with electromagnetic complications.

I tell ya it's a poison plant but you can't see,
...blinded already with some meaningless devotion.

Fricasseed little brothers and sisters,
Like flies without wings or even legs and the camera is too shy,
All because of the great green voice that's speakin' broken,
A bad day in Everyland with electromagnetic complications.

I tell ya it's a poison plant but you can't see,
...blinded already with some meaningless devotion.

You think you can pick but you really just shovel,
All unknowing and smelling roses upon command,
Never get your real demand like you're thinking,
But when everything's frying on the sidewalk you'll still be blind.

I tell ya it's a poison plant but you can't see,
...blinded already with some meaningless devotion.

Brother have you got a dime for some really cheap minds,
It's just a simple button-pushed modem white-wash,
Viscously flowing down blackness underneath uncountable lies,
And when everything's frying on the sidewalks they'll still be God-waving high.

I tell ya it's a poison plant but you can't see,
...blinded already with some meaningless devotion.

I went to the garden store some more plant food,
It made with rotation-babble pie,
Was gonna throw it right on the other side of the yard,
But the long-faced donkey tree wilted like globally warmed salad.

I tell ya it's a poison plant but you can't see,
...blinded already with some meaningless devotion.

It's why I won't buy plant food.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 02/03/2005

Friday, January 13, 2017

Flying Fish...

Post by AquarianM on Feb 9, 2005 at 12:43pm

Flying Fish...

I saw the sky in gun metal grey,
There were dots over the horizon.

Lost on the floating scales I was dreaming,
Soaring over water like spirits in the morning mist,
Silent-eyed souls like flying fish.

I sat at the table by warm candle light,
Red wine with a halo refraction on the tablecloth,
The glare of silver was not as bright as my soul in that moment,
There was a lifetime smile across from me speaking in silence.

It wasn't so much the what as the when,
All the silent ghosts hovering,
Taking this or bringing that for their evening,
I wondered at being their servant in my turn but was un-trained,
Thinking my wishes for how to someday thank their flight.

I never look down my nose,
I might miss the flight of fish,
Those who make our life so much more graced,
Little reward in terms of respect in many cases,
I speak my "thank you" at every possible passing,
Because I recognize it takes every kind of fish to make my ocean live.

The flight of fish to my table is all the evidence I need.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 02/09/2005

Author's Comments:
This poem is dedicated to waiters, to busboys, to maids and shoe-shiners. To every one of those whose time and effort makes our time and efforts possible. if we had to handle everything they do ourselves, we'd never be able to do much of what we do. At every chance i make sure to thank them, and make them know I appreciate what they do. We were out for my birthday dinner tonight and this point was once again brought home to me very clearly. I wrote about the celebration here: www.whizzyrds.com/020805_Birthday.html - so I though I'd write about those who helped make it wonderful up there, where the poem is.

Thursday, January 12, 2017

This Crazy Battle of Love and War...

Post by AquarianM on Feb 12, 2005 at 2:03am

This Crazy Battle of Love and War...

Singin' songs and a carryin' signs,
It's a day of blood and tears in how many places?
Ranting on this group and rolling over that,
Like some football fanatics in star-spangled hats ya want to go dyin'.

The big screen is advertising rolling green and the flag is waving for it.

How many moniker markers can you concoct,
False labels for a cruel imitation of Godly devotion in motion,
You walk right past the stone tablets without a glance,
Taking unreported prisoners and acting like Jezebel because,

Because, because, because the might of your wrongs makes anything right?

There was a crown of thorns and scourges that were supposed to be the last,
Borne so that no one else need endure and the plain of blood awaits irrigation,
Because of your actions reality might mirror predictions of flames and bones,
But from a God of Love who'd rather He could leave us alone.

So you seem to say it's all been laid out and said.

I wish you could read,
Because the book said "follow now the path of love,"
And according to your purported hero it's the ones who won't...

That will truly be dead.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 02/12/2005

Wednesday, January 11, 2017

From Where The Music lives...

Post by AquarianM on Feb 12, 2005 at 2:45am

From Where The Music lives...

I hear Led Zeppelin pounding on my ears,
Angel feathers living in summer heat shimmers,
Whispering of times that live in my heart -
Golden fire and reeds in the wind,
Every note a cherished moment.

When the last beat sounds,
Something new comes up in the sunshine,
I've never heard before yet I feel it breathe alive and shining.

I can feel the brass in my hands with love just waiting to be born,
The mother of pearl keys crying for my fingers to be pure,
The fire and pain of endless repetition will carry me like wings,
All I have to do is beat them hard enough and believe.

If it's act of a higher power flowing through me,
Or even just a pouring down of universal love,
I will some day play...from where the music lives.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 02/12/2005

Tuesday, January 10, 2017

Cosmic Shower Three...

Post by AquarianM on Mar 2, 2005 at 1:06am

Cosmic Shower Three...

The seven part harmony of grace is a reflection,
All the world is a vast vibration divisible by the louder number of God,
For the Cosmic speaks in the harmony of sevens' effects on three.

It's a song of sorts and one that neither ends nor has limits,
Or a vast intelligence that quietly emphasizes grace,
All around us and yet we believe we can't see.

Perhaps it's too obvious right under our noses,
Because we're only seventy percent the eye of God,
Blended with all the other colors written by Infinite Intelligence.

Love speaks best in a harmonic chord with two parts gratitude,
A simple truth that rests between sunlight and silvery moonglow,
One part oxygen to two parts hydrogen and the most fluid part of everything alive.

Can you feel the spirit each time you walk along the beach,
Feel a cool mist on your face or dance in warm summer rains,
Lick a snowflake from a whirling grey sky near the burble of ice-jeweled creeksong?

Each molecule of vapor in the air can hold a universe,
Each reflection of all there is flowing everywhere upon this world,
Within and all about us and connected to everything upon this Earth.

You know it every time you see it or taste it or scent it or breathe it in,
Water is a sacred thing of utter beauty and now they say the very eye of God,
Perhaps and seeing that all of what we call reality is God's endless song.

Say a prayer of thanks for every snowflake and raindrop,
Love every bit of pristine and clean sparkling brook and lake,
Sing praise for the gift of oceans and rivers and clouds.

The frequency of a human being is over five trillion yet divisible by seven,
Seventy percent water which is the only substance able to resonate to every frequency,
In such a beautiful blue world how can you claim never to see miracles?

May God grant you the gift of fresh mountain snow.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 03/02/2005

Author's Comments:
Two must-see sites:
www.bariumblues.com/conscious_water_crystals.htm
www.wellnessgoods.com/messages.asp

Love & Gratitude:

Monday, January 09, 2017

Grasshopper Tracks...

Post by AquarianM on Mar 4, 2005 at 2:12am

Grasshopper Tracks...

Hot and sunshine beaten,
The grass is tall over our heads,
Wandering along the rusted rails and timbers,
Grasshoppers bouncing off our ankles step by step.

Sneakers tied tight over tube socks,
Birds were flying over and perching on wires,
I remember the oil-browned poles with blue and white glass insulators,
How the wires could sing at times the birds grew wary.

Garter snakes slithered off into the grass harmless,
Pocket compass and toy binoculars,
What kinds and colors of stones best fill your pockets,
Footpads in bicycle world with un-wound watches.

Wade through the pricker bushes pulling burrs out of socks,
Climbing trees for a lookout or to stare down clouds,
It was a lucky day when the trail ended in watermelon slices on the porch,
And hide 'n seek was the show for the night by lightning bug lights.

July had just started and tomorrow was the lake,
Corn on the cob and hot dogs with lemonade,
Digging up clams from the mud and getting dog-shake splattered,
Grasshoppers bouncing off our ankles step by step.

I wish I could burn THAT in a board with a magnifying glass.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 03/04/2005

Sunday, January 08, 2017

Swallowing Lump Coal:


Post by AquarianM on Nov 3, 2004 at 7:12pm


Swallowing Lump Coal:


 

Choking bursting gagging,
Eyes fill and heart breaks,
Coal the lying diamond lies in my throat,
Unmoving uncaring and heartless,
Somehow I must will have to,
Spit it out.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 11/03/2004

Saturday, January 07, 2017

Drumbeat Windows:

Post by AquarianM on Nov 3, 2004 at 7:35pm

Drumbeat Windows:
 
The rain falls striking windows,
I can hear it drumming behind me,
The sky is black nighted the color of lightless clouds,
There is nothing in my eyes save a candlelit prayer,
Something held cherished in memory,
I am in constant effort to see,
Anything alive in these drumbeat windows.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 11/03/2004

Friday, January 06, 2017

Thank You...


Post by AquarianM on Nov 25, 2004 at 10:11pm

Thank You..

Thank You for those who shed light on darkness everywhere,
Who give everything of truth for us to see.

Thank You for the freedom those before left us,
That we have the light given us to see.

Thank You for our needs being met,
In whatever manner that may be.

Thank You for every moment of peace in our lives,
And the many more there will yet be.

Thank You for the gift of snow's pure white,
That replenishes so much life for the coming spring.

Thank You for the love gifted in each moment of kind intent,
The light that we most and truly need.

Thank You,
However we each might know your name.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 11/25/2004 and given in thanks to public domain.

Thursday, January 05, 2017

A Driving Need For Christmas...


Post by AquarianM on Nov 26, 2004 at 12:40pm

 A Driving Need For Christmas...

Looking out the window at the melting fade of Wonderland,
The grass coming through the failing purity of the snow,
Fallen on Thanksgiving Eve it was to the heart more like Christmas.

Covered in white and crystal like a delicate soft dream.

In the restaurant yesterday Thanksgiving dinner was rushed,
Pushed and prodded by staff trying to turn over tables,
In a manner which no subtleties reside commercialism gone rampant.

Still I gave thanks in the face of barely restrained greed.

I find my day after thoughts turning to decorating,
Pondering a pile of bills and a pile of cash waiting a turn to grow,
One definitely being higher than the other at the moment.

Can I find reasons white as snow for canceling holiday dinners or do I see tufts of green?

I hear whispers of war and dead upon the land of civilizations' birth,
Angry voices raised everywhere from here to there,
Praying for success at harm to others in the mistaken belief that violence isn't a circular notion.

Shall we pray for death and destruction from a God of love?

What is driving this unspoken need for Christmas everywhere around me,
Is it the result of what's without us or the flames hidden within,
That need some show of love in stores and snow and lights?

Perhaps we should seek those lights in the candles of a church...

..That remembers Christ's birth was meant as an act of love.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford

Wednesday, January 04, 2017

Dreaming In Druid:


Post by AquarianM on Oct 5, 2004 at 8:38am

 Dreaming In Druid:
 
Sitting in a calm chair slowly,
Early October afternoon sunshine drips between my crossed feet,
Like the wax of a candle made of whispering yellow leaves,
Falling and drifting and rising in spinning glee amber,
Tall grass rustling in tune to the wind dance,
Wildly gyrating young leaf-spangled Oak and Maple,
Cloud of blackbird flock endless whirl in the visions haunting me,
Someday to walk in a church with no roof,
All stone heavy immense and thick breathes in slow flowing heat,
Candles flickering in the twilight as leaves spin rustle round pews,
Stone seats that pass through time like soft water parted,
Broken bits of fallen leaf fade to soil in time,
Source of all God's gifts are in the rich black Earth we turn,
And the secret whispered by the stars and echoed on wind,
Along with dominion comes stewards' responsibilities.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 10/04/2004

Author's comments:
Genesis 1-26: Then God said, "Let us make man in our image, after our likeness; and let them have dominion over the fish of the sea, and over the birds of the air, and over the cattle, and over all the earth, and over every creeping thing that creeps upon the earth." Genesis 1-29: And God said, "Behold, I have given you every plant yielding seed which is upon the face of all the earth, and every tree with seed in its fruit; you shall have them for food." Genesis 1-30: And to every beast of the earth, and to every bird of the air, and to everything that creeps on the earth, everything that has the breath of life, I have given every green plant for food." And it was so." Genesis 2-15: 15 The LORD God took the man and put him in the garden of Eden to till it and keep it. Look up the definition of the word "keep" at www.dictionary.com sometime and read all the definitions. This is from the King James version. The American Standard Version shows 2-15 as "and care for it."

Tuesday, January 03, 2017

Between Dandelion And Snowflake...


Post by AquarianM on Nov 25, 2004 at 10:28pm

Between Dandelion And Snowflake...
 
The dandelion has dried up in a puffball state,
Seed released upon the wind - drifting.

The snowflake has evaporated from a backyard pond,
Gathered crystal layers in a cold high cloud,
Fallen down upon the wind - drifting.

In a fluke the dandelion seed was carried in an updraft,
Blasted by the jetstream into the far Antarctic,
Laid deep into a glacier for millennia.

In a one in a billion billion chance the snowflake never fell,
Tumbling over Paris in summer or Madrid in winter,
Chaotic twisting air kept it high in the stratosphere for millennia.

In ignorance the last drop of oil was sucked from the ground,
Burned and blown high to trap the sunlight here.

In the new world that then came,

The last crystal of ice on Antarctica melted and released the seed,
The last snowflake fell upon the South pole,
Each unique in all the universe.

Between the dandelion and the snowflake the world shrank,
Yet the waters rose.

It was a simple result of what was or wasn't carried upon the wind.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 11/26/2004

King Of The Orange Track:


Post by AquarianM on Aug 15, 2004 at 5:49am

King Of The Orange Track:

Fifty cars strong,
Two Slingshots,
Rubber band powered zoomers,
Two loop the loops,
A California Eight set,
Juice Machine and ten Sizzlers,
Twin side-by-side thirty foot runs of orange track,
The best Hot Wheel set in town,
The pinnacle of it all,
A purple 1968 Dodge Charger RT,
Would run the whole circuit every time,
Never flew off,
Eight year old King of the Orange Track.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 08/07/2004

Author's Comments:
1970 Genoa, NE

Monday, January 02, 2017

One Black And White Step:


Post by AquarianM on Aug 15, 2004 at 5:50am

One Black And White Step:

Third grade I remember,
Teacher said it was something special,
Something completely amazing,
Rolling a black and white TV out,
Front of the room on a metal cart,
Quick draw the shades so we can all see,
I heard the tinny voice live,
Tranquility Base it's one small step,
Followed by incredible bounds,
Eagle had landed on the Moon,
And in those moments everthing had changed,
In all our hearts hope sprang forth,
Earth was tiny and beautiful,
Too small to hold us,
We'd witnessed the fire three days back,
Burning away the infancy of Mankind,
We all grew up expecting to someday fly.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 08/07/2004

Author's Comments:
Winter 1969, Genoa, NE.

Sunday, January 01, 2017

Stars After Sunset:


Post by AquarianM on Aug 15, 2004 at 5:47am

Stars After Sunset:

The cool breeze of the evening whispered from the left,
Grasses waving and tree leaves danced,
Birds flew and gold lined every cloud,
The sun was fallen below the building across the street,
Cigar smoke was swirling slow and easy,
The fading blue and orange West called to me,
Haunted by the twinkling lights overhead,
The first stars winking knowing another day gone,
Further and further from roots and nostalgic longing,
Closer and closer to whatever knowledge or wisdom,
Well something like that I suppose,
The music on the new CD full of beautiful angst,
The red cherry of my cigar glows,
Still I wonder what we really know,
Thankful the only lights and sounds,
Only music and grass rustles and glowing stars and clouds,
Underneath all our worlds we know it,
The sadness is borne each day in bloody blackened sand,
Search for hope or meaning whatever you will,
Should we hurry or hold slow a major dilemma,
Another day’s light is going out,
And I want to crawl slowly through the beautiful night,
Up into the far haunted twinkling bejeweled sky.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 08/07/2004

Author's Comments:
The politics of the day seem unwilling to leave the back of my mind. I want to see right and humane choices made, want the country I grew up loving to touch once more it’s kinder and hopeful soul. I feel like we’re all searching for that somehow, like we’re all lost in a nightmare with morning glowing just out of reach.