Sunday, July 02, 2017

Alief Texas 1978...


Post by AquarianM on Jul 25, 2008 at 2:25am

Alief Texas 1978...

All the Gang was round back then,
Young and hale,
Big Lisa & Little Lisa,
Mona & Kit,
Juanita & Angie,
Scott & Michelle & Nick,
I'm sure I'm forgetting a face or two.

Mischief was always the order of the day,
One a.m. night flights to Galveston beach,
Sunshine in the pool,
Wild Parties with parents gone,
Teenage angst and lust in the heat.

What to do with life,
Who grew huge hooters,
Who didn't,
Where was life going.

I stood up for Lifeguard Laura,
Two years older than me,
Southern Belle glam and charm,
Called me her "cuter than a bugs ear" hero,
Cuddlier than her teddy bear,
Left my puppy heart behind when we moved.

It was always like that,
Uprooted every time I grew an inch,
Nothing stays in place,
Except the rosy glow of thirty years patina on old memories.

They're all lost now,
Scattered to time,
I hope all still hale and alive.

I wonder if I'd see a one on that moonlit beach.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(c) 07/25/2008

Saturday, July 01, 2017

Rock County Nights...


Post by AquarianM on Jul 25, 2008 at 4:35am

Rock County Nights...

Is there a band playing tonight,
Or will it be the DJ under the light?
Should we cruise Pier 44,
Or the City Limits once more?

Wet T-shirt Thursdays?

You said Gyro's Lounge?
How much can we scrounge?
Pulaski's has a killer floor,
And I want to dance some more.

Pitcher of Water Melon cooler, sunset in glass.

Are they Dropping The Bomb on me?
Is there a cover or is it free?
Man those girls move fine,
Might just make one mine.

Moving in stereo to the rhythm.

Colored lights and a sequin strobe ball,
Gettin' tank topped and bouncin' off the wall.
Lover Boy and Judas Priest,
It was a dancers' feast.

Thump, thump, think I'll do The Bump.

I see what you're shakin',
And I'm hoppin' 'n swayin'.
Back Bar punches out the Metal,
After we go find a kettle.

Let go of that Swamp Water, man!
It's Ladies' Night!

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 08/02/2000

Author's Comments
In my very late teen years and twenties, Beloit and Janesville, Wisconsin were home to the best dance clubs around, folks used to come from out of state just to hit the floors and boogie down. I put a few moves in in my time, too. Every one of the places I used to go to has either closed, burned, or just went under. It's a sad state of affairs. Winter nights walking home after two in the morning smiling...

Friday, June 30, 2017

Stuffed...

Stuffed...

An eerie glow fills the room,
Flick of the switch.

My own thoughts remain unborn,
My head filled to bursting,
With the carefully-crafted thoughts of others,
People I don't even know.

Stuffed.

AquarianM

By Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 06-30-2017

Rembrandt Sleeping - Poem # 20

Prodigal Poet...

Prodigal Poet...

Pages have lain bare,
Wanting for ink,
Thirsty for soul dreams,
Lonely for mind-candy's hallowed release.

More than six years pass by,
Finally my pen is back to hand,
In the wee hours,
Absent the glow of electrons and keys.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 06-29-2017

Rembrandt Sleeping, Poem # 19.



Dream Riding With Night Spirits...


Post by AquarianM on Dec 29, 2007 at 12:02am

Dream Riding With Night Spirits...

A child again I ride,
Pedaling furiously in the twilight,
The ancient oak by the rail yard,
Silent and majestic in the starshine,
Growling wolf stops me cold,
"Wrap in the white light first."

Howling he runs beside me,
In my white light suit I race the tree,
Branches laden with ideas growing all about,
A bough breaks and falls away,
I ignite the rockets to either side,
Bolted to my bicycle,
I scream up the rough bark into the sky,
Arching high over the moon,
Wolf on the back seat singing.

I admire a passing star,
She beats tiny gossamer wings,
A streak of stardust to kiss my cheek,
I see the world floating below,
Having climbed the tree of life,
I ride the winter skies in joy.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 12/29/2007

Thursday, June 29, 2017

A Perfect Night For Magic...


Post by AquarianM on Dec 30, 2007 at 10:32pm

A Perfect Night For Magic...

Silence holds me close,
Something Winter is singing,
Utter absence of sound profoundly deep,
Enclosing a glistening world of pure magic.

Each step completely a new thing,
Tracks laid in a fresh-fallen thick carpet of diamond dust,
White with a billion glitter points anywhere in eye-fall,
Streets of cloud filled with tiny gems.

Light fog lends the open field mystery,
Light-dust falling through the mist from streetlights,
Others surrounded in faded white globular nebulae,
Charcoal clouds ragged about the edge of the world.

Directly above the open sky rains constellations,
Dancing within and without the invisible clouds,
Feast and famine of light brilliant and fading and gone,
All around - trees crested in white flocked snow and frost wigs.

My breath joins the show as I set the last recycling to the curb,
An extra trip on a perfect night for magic,
The remainder of faded Christmas' lights an eerie burst of color,
The last night of the year else-wise bathed in black and white and starlight.

Happy New Year indeed.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 12/31/2007

Wednesday, June 28, 2017

Drumbeat Feet…


Post by AquarianM on Jan 3, 2008 at 12:19am

Drumbeat Feet…

I’m walking the track at the Y,
Fast paced and tired,
A thousand kids haven’t made it back to school yet,
New Year free on the basketball courts,
Dribble and shoot,
Dribble and shoot.

It’s the middle of the day my night,
And I hear the basketballs drumming,
Drumming like spirit-callers,
My eyes half close as I step to the erratic ecstatic,
Beat trance dancing I pretend it’s the savannah,
Wildebeast herds off in the distance,
Hoof-rocked and pounding stampede.

A dingo dog appears and walks with me,
Dusty trail not withstanding,
I see no lions or tigers,
Until an Aborigine man steps alongside,
Walking walking walking,
Footfall pounding the dirt with me,
Another dreamwalker.

I conjure up a snow globe,
Full of tiny wet flecks,
A nose-tickler and breath froster,
A toy so he can know snow,
He hands me a globe of hottest summer,
Full of croc breath and burning dry air,
Endless hotfooting across the burning Outback.

We smash the two together to create a balanced world,
The clock tells me to stop walking and go home.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 01/03/2008

Nothing Roasted, Nothing Drained...

Nothing Roasted, Nothing Drained...

I reach for the long blue handle of the antique English coffee mill,
Only to spin it again and again,
Lovely roasted brown flows into a paper sack,
Awaking the aroma that makes this the best-scented garage in the world,
If only for a day.

I've tried electric grinding,
It simply hasn't the soul,
Yet better than nothing.

Put your arm in it,
Along with some heart.

It's like the difference between a sea foam green Hermes and paper,
Vs. the light of a glowing screen,
You can't feel the pages,
Never hear the bell,
Don't feel the "thunk" in your wrist of the hard return,
It hasn't the grace.

Stainless steel is the basket in my percolator,
The better not to strain out the flavor you know,
The scent and steam and bubbling rattle of morning,
It's gratifying and more addictive than stopping time,
The heat of the stainless steel and the winding of the cord,
Or the bakelite handle and fuzzy aluminum with a bubble on top,
Stowed in my camping gear.

Does the scent filling the house awaken you?

Can you hear the rattling siren call?

I drift back to a younger time,
Transported,
Adrift in sweet dreams of my grandparents,
In the days before Hemingway drowned in a bottle,
When pages were real and could yellow with age,
When you could hold spirits in your hands and work flowed from flesh and bone,
Time was slow and daylight languid on a Summer weekend.

The world has gone wide and shallow and fast like rapids,
I miss the deep still lakes and the slowness of actual books,
Things that might never be really known again.

I am a deeper puddle in the muddle of splash,
Staring into the empty coffee cup of the old life and times,
Thinking slowly,
Lavishly,
"Nothing roasted,
Nothing drained..."


AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 06/28/2017

Tuesday, June 27, 2017

Appraisal...


Post by AquarianM on Jan 4, 2008 at 1:46am

Appraisal...

Shhh…don’t let the secret out.

It’s a horrible dollar amount,
Dead plastic dreams in the dust,
A breach of your own trust.

Squeak and squirm and fidget,
Find a way to sell a new widget,
Before the flood comes.

Eating on credit cards,
The gas to move the car,
A pretty house not too large,
But wages are flat,
Paid by rats.

How much is it really worth?

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 01/04/2008

Monday, June 26, 2017

Lost In The Mist…


Post by AquarianM on Jan 9, 2008 at 2:04am

Lost In The Mist…

…of time,
So little to be found,
Like grains of sand passing one by one,
A rainstorm in January,
Thunder and lightning,
Tornado roaring,
Green grass in February,
Floods and drought,
What wins out?

Picture postcards in a lost museum,
Snow as high as your house,
Children in snowsuits sledding,
Night riding in a sleigh,
Melted away.

Who will remember Winter?

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 01/09/2008

Sunday, June 25, 2017

Eggnog Latte...


Post by AquarianM on Jan 15, 2008 at 1:07am

Eggnog Latte...

In the falling afternoon sunlight,
Lazy Fall Sunday afternoon,
A steaming cup of holiday,
Whirls about my mind,
Stirred and lidded hand-warmer,
From which I spill poetry.

As I sip from that cup of memories
Of holidays long gone by
I savor the fragrance of their joy
Amid the velvet echoes
Of loves' sweet caress

Creamy and dreamy,
blackness and fluff
sweetness lingers
covering the bitter bite

Last minute shopping,
frantic wrapping,
hiding all the whimsical surprises,
at last a reward of frothy delight,
time being held still with a sip of holiday enjoyment,
a sense of satisfaction of new memories
being created and old ones passed on.

By: Green Leaf Coffee House Poetry Circle
© 11/24/2007
Contributing Authors: (In order of verse written)
Daniel A. Stafford
Russ Pergram
Shannon Prahl
Mary Andersen

Saturday, June 24, 2017

The Question…


Post by AquarianM on Jan 15, 2008 at 11:56pm

The Question…

I have to ask it of you,
I must know the score,
Who is to be President,
Who will get the chore?

I’ll make you rack your brains,
The answer to guess and hack,
But what comes out of the machines,
Is what got put in the back.

If you think you have a crystal ball,
I’ve got silicon crystals to beat them all,
I’ll type at buttons and laugh,
You just voted for a blue giraffe.

An army of hackers red and blue,
A dog and pony show that’s now true blue,
Super Country killed by pieces of Nerdite,
Computer-scanned ballots black-inked on lilly-white.

Pay no attention to the electrons behind the curtain…

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 01/16/2008

Friday, June 23, 2017

Secret of the Ruby Heart...


Post by AquarianM on Jan 24, 2008 at 3:42am

Secret of the Ruby Heart...

She whispered “hold me, yet not with arms,"
A lost look in weary eyes was all you knew,
Some dream wandering hither and yon.

Close your eyes and see the ruby heart,
Pour it out upon her like chalice blood,
Delicate as life’s balance can be,
No drop wasted.

The sunset in her arms can beget a new dawn,
If you fill her cup with love under the stars,
To take the loneliness away.

Close your eyes and see the ruby heart,
Pour it out upon her like chalice blood,
Delicate as life’s balance can be,
No drop wasted.

“See me,” she whispered, "not with eyes."

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 01/24/2003

Thursday, June 22, 2017

The Pear Tree Circle Mural Project...

The following mural was painted on the wall & ceiling of our 2nd floor at our townhouse in very early 2003 by me:

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The mural was painted over about three weeks ago as we are in the process of selling the town house. The upstairs area is now a stark, sterile, neutral white. The wall to the right of the mural had been painted a warm, tomatoey red and had black and white Elvis portraits and album covers in frames hung on it. The lamp in the stairwell is an imported Italian light fixture of an angel flying with a staff of wheat in one hand and a yellow-green lamp in the other. Like most Italian art, it is a touch risque'. The ceiling had the sunset fading to a deep indigo and then to black with stars and a comet on the ceiling. All the painting was done on a scaffold made of six two-by-six boards laid on the top stair and a ladder rung, and tied together.

Dan

(C) 10/27/2005 By Daniel A. Stafford

I Was Born On A River…


Post by AquarianM on Jan 31, 2008 at 4:16am

I Was Born On A River…

I was born in the midst of frost and snow,
Ice jagged on the riverbanks,
Stars chilled almost still on a cold night,
Some small town I still see magic in.

The old lagoon used to freeze over,
Ice skaters in the warming house,
Now the paddleboats reign,
A fresh coat of paint on the doors.

The people that imbued that place with magic,
It seems many have fled to someplace higher,
Or flowed down the stream of life,
Salmon run out to sea.

Springtime comes and the fish jump,
Life awakens all about,
Green water and green hills,
Trees budding in the scent of river water.

New dandelions flower,
Tadpoles turn to frogs,
Cottonwood seed floats in the sunlight,
Yet the limestone blocks of the water tower stand.

I was born on a river,
Where the current never stops.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 01/31/2008

Wednesday, June 21, 2017

Sleeping Under Misti...


Post by AquarianM on Feb 21, 2008 at 2:21am

Sleeping Under Misti...

The Three Sisters of Arequipa,
Nearby the sea,
Saucy and hot,
Eruptive,
Chaotic.

They sleep for a time,
How long no one knows,
Your guess as good as mine,
Yet day or night,
They can roar with fire,
Smokingly explosive.

Ampato the tall one,
Chachani the middle sister,
Beautiful and dangerous little Misti,
Daughters of Peru,
What will you do,
On an Arequipa night?

Senoritas calientes…

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 02/21/2008

www.andeantrails.co.uk/misti2.htm

Tuesday, June 20, 2017

Rembrandt Sleeping...

Post by AquarianM on Feb 18, 2011 at 10:30pm

Rembrandt Sleeping...

Painting a night's impression in soft and vivid dreams,
Imagery jumbles life like a learning curve,
Pillow-lust in linseed oil tints,
A renaissance of nightly mind evolves slowly,
Whispering like momentary centuries of colored dust,
Mutable and yet credible,
Inspiration ripe to pluck,
On the finished canvas of drowsy morning.















AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 02/11/2011

"Rembrandt...Sleeping" poem # 5.

Torrone...


Post by AquarianM on Feb 25, 2008 at 6:34pm

Torrone...

A little yellow box,
Pictures of the old places,
Famous names and faces gone,
Sweet Arancio,
Vaniglia gentle on the tongue,
Lemon gentle,
La Florentine,
From the red white and green,
I grew up with them,
In each box I taste childhood,
A mystery of long ago,
And all the magic people inhabiting it,
A wonder that suits my taste.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 02/25/2008

Monday, June 19, 2017

For Want Of An Olive...


Post by AquarianM on Feb 28, 2008 at 12:17am

For Want Of An Olive...

I stalk down memory lane – hiding,
Lest a breath blow away my ghosts,
Hearing whispers of happy times,
A place where dreams were infinite.

You can’t lose here as long as you don’t disturb anything.

The filters that bring me to this place are diverse,
Songs or dishes or old antiques,
Some wisp of yesteryear on the internet,
A picture haunting a magazine page.

I can never get enough – how about you?

I tread with utmost caution,
Trying to glimpse anything I’ve forgotten,
Put it in my treasure box,
Filled with the ultimate of ultimates – memories.

My hunger growls from my gut - unquenchable.

For want of an olive my shadows hear me,
Running off to Heaven on rainbow wings,
Discovery thwarted by distraction,
A lack of hypnosis and focus.

I awaken starving for more sleep.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 02/28/2008

A Matter Of Focus...

A Matter Of Focus...

What I say,
What I see,
Large-looming things I water in the garden of my life.

It maters little if I despise them,
Not a whit if I wish to uproot,
Nor love and cherish,
The flowers or weeds I speak to will grow.

All the World should pay attention,
Give that payment to the flowers,
For the weeds grow so easily.

It's really all a matter of focus.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 06/19/2017

Sunday, June 18, 2017

When Sunset Falls...


Post by AquarianM on Oct 4, 2007 at 12:04am

When Sunset Falls...

I used to love the soft fiery orange of you,
The feel of your wheel under my hands,
Responsive and agile and powerful,
We raced rainbows and hawks,
Toured the countryside and highways,
Listened to soft jazz and hard rock,
But tonight I hear the blues.

In the silvery haze of falling rain,
You danced free of my hands,
Like a wild thing I’d found myself riding,
Throwing us both into hard concrete,
Smashing and abrading at forty five miles an hour,
In the darkness of a washed-out night.

It’s not the pain in my chest pulled,
Nor the bruises on my arm,
Nor the missed night of work,
But the hard-earned payment freedom,
The feel of something that finally fit me perfectly,
Torn and ruined and twisted,
A forlorn broken child,
Huddled in the driveway.

Instant replay keeps me near steaming,
Boiling and furious and lost,
I never thought the Sunset Truck,
Would try to water ski down I-55.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 10/04/2007











Saturday, June 17, 2017

A Breath Of Chill...


Post by AquarianM on Nov 6, 2007 at 3:12am

A Breath Of Chill...

In the clouded dark of November night,
Autumn whispers softly fall,
Starless grey-yellow glow of city lights,
Flurries come to call,
Luscious sisters to Jack Frost,
He’s been painting a delicate web,
Listening nights of summer lost,
Longing for warm covers abed,
Leaves, leaves, leaf and twig,
Dancing all about the air,
Just a falling mercury jig,
A hat upon my grey-speckled hair,
Goodnight is not yet - it’s early eve,
Treasure the light and candle’s warmth shining in the air.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 11/6/2007

Friday, June 16, 2017

Eagle Boy's Gift...


Post by AquarianM on Nov 28, 2007 at 1:05am

Eagle Boy's Gift...

A thing of pure beauty,
Easy to rest the eyes on,
It sits on my finger in a silver circle,
Graceful oval with silver wings,
Looking like the globe of the Earth,
Perched in my own personal space.

It’s my own little ceremony,
I have three rings,
One gold and white-gold wedding band on the left,
One silver and turquoise on ring finger right,
Right pinky silver with a black and white yin-yang,
The last I bought when twenty,
On the banks of the river in my home town,
My first time at Riverfest.

The turquoise and silver was made by Eagle Boy,
It even says so inside,
I bought it at Hozhoni’s – a friend’s shop,
Janet knows the artist now retired.

Every day I put them on,
Starting left to right:
“I am connected to, protected by, and supplied by love.”
“I am connected to, a protector of, and supplied by the Earth”
“I am connected to, protected by, and supplied by God and all the Universe.”


Eagle Boy gave to me the Earth.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 11/29/2007

Thursday, June 15, 2017

Frozen Delivery...


Post by AquarianM on Dec 8, 2007 at 12:54am

Frozen Delivery...

Just a child,
Long ago,
A memory,
Of sweet young summer,
Little dark haired girl.
Daddy's girl,
Before there were ice cream trucks,
Horse's bells chased children's ears,
Brick paved streets,
Small midwestern town,
The ice man is coming,
Cut from winter rivers and streams,
Crystal shards the tongs break free,
Shine dripping in sunlight,
Given to a child,
Wood and leather and horses,
Clip clop, clip, clop,
Pet the horsy,
Blessed cool clear ice,
On a sweltering summer day,
No other relief unless water's found,
Not an air conditioner anywhere around,
Frozen fingers in the nineties,
Mom told me about those days,
I guess it's different things,
But kids don't change their basic ways.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 11/07/2001

Author's Comments

One of Mom's fave childhood memories, I
could picture this so clearly when she was
telling me about it. How men with horse-drawn wagons delivered ice cut from the river in winter on summer days before air conditioners or ice cream men existed in the everyday world.

Wednesday, June 14, 2017

Something About The Moon Last Night...


Post by AquarianM on Nov 25, 2007 at 11:51pm

Something About The Moon Last Night...

They say it's just ice crystals,
High in the atmosphere,
Twenty two degree refraction,
Across forty six degrees of sky,
But that's just science for you.

They say it means weather on the way,
However many stars in the ring are the number of days,
Frost and fraught with hazardous white,
A portent of frozen night,
But that's just folklore for you.

I say it's rare and wondrous,
The moon a brilliant pebble dropped,
The sky a frosted grey pond of night,
And wonder of folklore and science,
But that's just me for you.

All I know for sure is it covered a quarter of the sky that night.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 11/26/2007


Tuesday, June 13, 2017

Latter Day High School Saints...


Post by AquarianM on Nov 25, 2007 at 11:29pm

Latter Day High School Saints...

I looked around a bit,
In the mirror I saw what the blow dryer had wrought,
I was back to seventeen,
Wearing my Barry Gibb wings of golden hair,
Sans bell-bottoms, wide collars and stacks.

We went to the mall like that,
Stopped at the Fanny May kiosk,
The Rappers were the checkout clerks,
All giant hood and baggy pants,
It suddenly occurred,
The bell-bottom curse had grown,
Something fed in the Little Shop of Horrors,
These latter-day high school saints,
Are wearing the bell from top to bottom,
If they go polyester I'll know for sure.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 11/26/2007

Monday, June 12, 2017

Snow Skies Whiting...


Post by AquarianM on Dec 7, 2007 19:56:26 GMT -7

Snow Skies Whiting...

I look up and the sky is a close ghost,
Grey mist roof dome waiting,
Dreaming of fractal designs in crystal and soft white,
Hiding the soft underbelly of gliding hawks,
Which alight in the standing sticks like snow spirits,
Peering at an up-staring mad poet,
Who bothers so much to often notice.

The streets are push-dried and lined with plow-plunder,
Wet whispers wishing for more,
And I can’t get past the child-in-wonder in me,
Delighted despite the chores,
I fantasize snow down a co-worker’s neck,
Laughing clouds of jewel-smoke breath,
Surrendered completely to winter.

I was putting up and out Christmas just that morning and afternoon,
The perfect time to winkle and twinkle and blinkle,
Colors like candy-light over white,
Dancing boughs in the grey-blue steely wind,
The sun is a blinding white spot of haze just waiting to retire early,
I am cocooned soundless under snow skies whiting.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 12/08/2007

Sunday, June 11, 2017

Why We Need To Save The History Of Web Poetry (Video)

Online poetry is a very unique *global* culture. It speaks to the emotional mindset of a large cross-section of the world. Web poetry began in the mid-1990's, and some of the poets that started with it have already passed away. For understanding the psychological history of humanity, if nothing else, this is an important tool. How it came about and was shaped over the years is an important factor. This history is little-known, and in danger of being lost. This is the second in a series of videos I plan to do on the subject, so that at least what I know of it is recorded for posterity. - Dan  

Silent Blue Hills…


Post by AquarianM on Dec 20, 2007 at 2:38am

Silent Blue Hills…

In the late night fog freezing,
Shivering stars above,
Dancing in and out,
Moon ghost floating high,
Faded and lazy night,
Silverfish memories swim my blood,
Bone chilling wonder and regret,
Alone in the snow light,
Too much for tears ever to melt,
The silent blue hills are calling,
Wishing me into the mists,
Not ready I stand in the falling snow,
A dash of Christmas in my hand fading,
Led dazed by a cruel heart,
To water now flat blue ice,
I shall never again consent to drink,
A specter of frost and glassy ice,
Gleaming in holiday lights.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 12/20/2007

Saturday, June 10, 2017

The Golden Age... (With Video)

The Golden Age...

In this matrix everything was new,
Young,
Naive,
Hopeful,
Wistful,
Only a few imps played about.

All about the poets danced their pens,
Everywhere everywhere were their secret gardens,
Full of gemstones all tucked away,
Glittering glittering bright.

The world was crossed with them,
Neither mattered country nor creed,
The words poured between,
Quiet little treasures of humanity.

Soon enough the matrix grew up,
Bridge trolls eyeing pots of gold,
jewels are not their thing,
Gold, only gold.

They dug up the gardens and laid them waste,
The jewels buried in the rubble dissolved in the rain,
Sugar-baubles washed away away,
Ephemeral.

A few gardens survive,
Oases in a hard-paved desert,
Only a token away from the trolls' destruction,
When the last piece of gold has gone.

Who will tell the story of the Golden Age,
Will the world even remember when the poets wrote the world,
Their names and their names,
Or even their bones?

A scribe we need,
To cage the Golden Age,
Bottle it up for all to see and remember,
When the electric fields and we were young.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 06/10/2017

Author's note:
We're at a unique time and place in history. Many of us here witnessed the birth of the internet...and with it, internet poets.Too often, when a website goes down for lack of funding, the poetry goes with it. The poets, like all people, age and pass. It strikes me that the last twenty years has been a sort of golden age for internet poetry. The web has grown soooo commercial. The sharks circle the heavens, and there are ghost towns strewn about like after the wild, wild West was no longer young. If this era and these things aren't chronicled in some way, this literary history could be lost; Dandelion seeds on the Summer winds. There is a reason the Beat Poets and the Romantics are remembered. Their works were put down on something more permanent than electrons on chips. Their history and legends were chronicled, their works made available to the public. I wonder of ours.


Whisper Winter’s Name…


Post by AquarianM on Dec 14, 2007 at 3:58am

Whisper Winter’s Name…

A night of soft glow reflection on whited-out ground,
Lost in the coal-grey night starless,
Boot-crunched slip-slide among the candy lights,
Dreaming of fire-lit morning and torn wrappers,
Everything just-right white,
If the ground be seen on the eve prior,
I whisper Winter’s name,
Calling and begging for decorations falling,
Frosted window panes,
Happy music and brown grass tufts afloat in white waves,
A need for light in life’s respite,
We’re whispering Winter’s name,
Whispering wishing waiting and wanting,
Crystal art became from falling rain.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 12/14/2007

Friday, June 09, 2017

With A Little Love…


Post by AquarianM on Dec 22, 2007 at 12:43am

With A Little Love…

A sigh and a long look,
Out a winter window,
Small snowflakes fall,
White blanket to tuck the world abed,
Grey-white light fading fast,
The Christmas lights are all about.

The songs we sing are joyful or longing,
Happy or hopeful or wistful,
Tender music sculpts the holiday air,
Putting our spirits in a gentle reflection,
A year fading fast and a new one slipping in.

Walking in breath clouds we dream,
With a little love our tears slip out,
Maybe washed away by snowflakes,
Maybe we’re just a bit more open about the heart right now,
All dream-wide and mystical.

With a little love.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 12/22/2007

Thursday, June 08, 2017

Steppin' Over The Line...


Post by AquarianM on Sep 7, 2007 at 11:02pm

Steppin' Over The Line...

I feel the pull of a puddle of jet,
Trying to keep my feet from getting wet,
I'm high-steppin' to leave it behind,
Burning the darkness from my mind,
A waste of breath and ticks of the clock,
I'm seeking the light from bottom to top,
Goin' to turn left or right just in time,
'Cause there's just no use,
In steppin' over the line.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 09/08/2007

Wednesday, June 07, 2017

Tree To The Sea...


Post by AquarianM on Sep 11, 2007 at 10:09pm

Tree To The Sea...

Drumbeat waves roll - heartbeat sand crashed night,
Into the small cave by the sea,
Climbing glowing drú into the upper world,
Wading dream-time star seas,
The voices of waving grasses sing,
Chants of stones and sea-foam moonlit,
Lightning symbol crescendo emphasis,
Wounds bound of dry sea oats,
White light whispers from heaven,
Hawk guides albatross to my shoulder,
Climbing down we emerge,
Healing union.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 09/11/2007

*Note: drú - Gaelic for oak*

Tuesday, June 06, 2017

Dear Sally...


Post by AquarianM on Sep 17, 2007 at 8:58pm

Dear Sally...

Ahhh, sweetheart -
You've been our girl next door since I was just a teen,
Amazing yet and all the better,
You still are.

You've got a heart on you hon.
I can hear it -
They might not want me to,
But oh yes - I most definitely can.

I remember that about you,
It was always there as long as I remember,
And you reached out with it on that stage again,
But the fox is a hound and tried to muzzle.

Dear little riding the Bandit's hood,
You said it like it is,
And all the stop action in the universe failed,
Because you've got a heart on you.

You've got a heart on you hon.
I can hear it -
They might not want me to,
But oh yes - I most definitely can.

Dear, dear Sally.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 09/17/2007

(For Sally Field)

Monday, June 05, 2017

Of Grass And Tree...

Post by AquarianM on Sep 13, 2007 at 12:09pm

Of Grass And Tree...



There is no world without trees.
There is no world without grass.

Tall and strong and whispering flutter on the wind,
Leaves and blades rustle and wisk,
The color clock of seasons shades the hour,
Holding the land steady,
Soil firmly in place and neither wind nor rain diminish that life,
From the deep earth they nourish,
All the beasts of the land live by their sacrifice.

The air itself is thus replenished,
The sky is balanced and whole in their presence,
The butterfly and bison,
The cattle and the sheep,
The grasshopper and spider,
The earthworm and the bear,
The chipmunk and the squirrel,
The wolf and the cougar,
The tiger and the lamb,
The owl and the man.

Of God who gave the gifted world to us,
Use it and them as we will,
God put our life in our own hands.

Balance lives, and all else falls.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 09/13/2007

Sunday, June 04, 2017

I Want To Believe...


Post by AquarianM on Sep 23, 2007 at 10:18pm

I Want To Believe...

I want to believe,
Yes I want to believe - oh, believe,
In something bigger than me,
In something more than a season,
Of change,
Or more of the same.

Love can hold away the blues,
Sometimes -
Think you might know what you'll find,
But the winds never stop,
They just blow and blow.

I want to believe,
Yes I want to believe - oh, believe,
In something bigger than me,
In something more than a season,
Of change,
Or more of the same.

Can we touch the world,
Some way beautiful,
Some way sane,
Some way fine?

I want to believe,
Yes I want to believe - oh, believe,
In something bigger than me,
In something more than a season,
Of change,
Or more of the same.

You color the spring and summer and fall,
But winter always comes,
Freezing for a frightened soul,
That doorway each faces alone.

I want to believe,
Yes I want to believe - oh, believe,
In something bigger than me,
In something more than a season,
Of change,
Or more of the same.

What goes around,
What goes to ground,
What everyone remembers,
Maybe just for now.

I want to believe,
Yes I want to believe - oh, believe,
In something bigger than me,
In something more than a season,
Of change,
Or more of the same.

I live by this season's love,
A gift so precious,
I'll give and receive but never let go,
It's all the forever I get to really know.

I want to believe,
Yes I want to believe - oh, believe,
In something bigger than me,
In something more than a season,
Of change,
Or more of the same.

Come with me every night,
Every winter's cold road,
Every lane to a fireplace,
You know the only way home.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 09/24/2007

Saturday, June 03, 2017

Weather Wishing...


Post by AquarianM on Oct 1, 2007 at 2:18am

Weather Wishing...

Whispers inside you sigh,
Rain from a cloudless sky,
Bring the silence of still air just in time,
Grow the grass and feed the trees,
A touch of warmth lingering longer by the year,
When the cool breath of Fall finally blows by,
Black birds and geese rule the sky,
Herons and mallards and peregrine,
In the hush of a misting mind I sigh,
Turning to watch the stars.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 10/01/2007

Friday, June 02, 2017

In The Quiet Hours...


Post by AquarianM on Oct 1, 2007 at 10:30pm

In The Quiet Hours...

The clock rolls round past the mid-mark,
Into the space of the inside,
When we’re all closer to the ragged edges of space-time,
Not far from the gusher of raw undermind,
And specks of light fire the imagination,
Lack of sleep breaking down barriers,
Let us forget “reality” for an hour or three.

If you stand under the stars on these cool nights of fall,
Feel the hackles on you rise,
See off into distant space,
Feel closer to some ancient camp fire than electric lights,
Don’t worry much about it.

Poets do that all the time,
See things with inside eyes,
Illuminated more by heart-light than cold reason,
We touch the stuff of everything,
Trying to bring back a little something,
In the twisted little cacophony that words become,
When compared to that vision.

Maybe some night,
A hint of melody will follow them through,
Reason enough for this life’s quest.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 10/02/2007

Thursday, June 01, 2017

In Dreamtime...


Post by AquarianM on Oct 6, 2007 at 1:53am

In Dreamtime...

Whisper a lovers' secret,
In a word artist's nibbled ear,
Something gently gleaming,
Of stardust and golden stairs,
Far away in twilight's forest,
A clearing of moonlit glade,
My siren my dryad darling,
Break through my rosy haze,
Dancing with silver spring waters on our feet,
Rippling in love-night's aching glow,
The music in the trees rustles softly,
An orchestra of wayward stars,
Give me a lover's token,
To whisper over mere mortal ears,
Slumbering upon pillows far below.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 10/06/2007

Wednesday, May 31, 2017

The Glowing Hour...


Post by AquarianM on Oct 8, 2007 at 10:31pm

The Glowing Hour...

I suppose it's as close as the sun can get,
To casting its own shadow,
That hour when it's fallen below our horizon,
But it still paints the sky,
When the planets and then stars begin to emerge.

We walk the twilight,
Searching Halloween decorations,
Every rustle in the cornfield a hair-raiser,
Every shadow fresh and new,
The charge runs up my spine.

Halfway between day and night,
I wonder what is stuck there,
Lurking in the glowing hour?

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 10/09/2007

Tuesday, May 30, 2017

Seeing God At Night…


Post by AquarianM on Jun 2, 2007 at 2:06am

Seeing God At Night…

Some might think it a lonely walk,
Chicago at 2:30 in the morning,
Quiet while the wind gently whispers,
Twinkling lights across the river,
A quiet soul or five far down the street.

I don’t feel it lonely,
The ants all left the hive,
A beautiful city so few see like this,
Windows in the distance – some few with lights,
The art of the night-lit buildings and quiet little spaces I see.

Restaurants with chairs up on tables and empty,
Glowing neon like a morning invitation,
Or glass plate sculpture of backlit dinner plates and glasses,
The Chagall tiles at the fountain plaza near the bank,
Stained glass windows near the church tell a story.

A million zillion little wonders,
Never seen in daylight,
It might be the hand of man,
But any fool can look up and realize,
There’s nothing gentler than seeing God at night.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 06/02/2007

Author’s Comment:
I feel a sense of quiet reverence when I get to go out for a walk on break at night. God crafted so many different and unique souls, and some of their prettiest works surround me when I walk downtown Chicago on summer nights. Most people would find the big city frightening late at night in their six o’clock news imaginations, but in reality it’s peaceful and quiet down here, mostly utility workers and street crews doing clean up. There are many, many little and large points of interest in the architecture and lighting of Chicago’s buildings at night that are rarely if ever photographed. Most picture books of the city will show you everything of daylight’s marvels, but there is a whole other side to the place they’re mostly missing.

Monday, May 29, 2017

Sweet As Soul Stone...


Post by AquarianM on Jun 4, 2007 at 11:52pm

Sweet As Soul Stone...

Mmmmm….Baby that voice,
AwwwWWW!!

Honey you blow my mind,
Just a little or a lot,
Note by ohhhh – whoa YEAH,
By note.

I don’t need to see to believe, Sugar.

Just sing it at me.

Super, duper, ohhh yeah.

Chills little sweet bird,
Right up and down my spine.

Sing it again, Joss –

That Chokin’ Kind.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 06/05/2007

Author’s Comment:
I’ve been a huge fan of Joss Stone’s music since the first second I heard her album Soul Sessions. What an amazing and powerful voice, and just 16 when she accomplished re-raising Soul music. www.jossstone.com/

Sunday, May 28, 2017

Frisbee Trucker...


Post by AquarianM on Jul 3, 2007 at 12:23am

Frisbee Trucker...

They’re flying through the night,
Multi-colored saucers chase the moon,
The open road is calling,
The Great WHAMO has laid ten thousand eggs,
And the Frisbee Trucker is about to rock,
A whole town worth of kids tossed into flight,
What a crazy-cool job,
Breaker one nine,
Flying fast,
One of those is mine.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 07/03/2007

Saturday, May 27, 2017

Harmonica Summer...


Post by AquarianM on Jun 30, 2007 at 1:30am

Harmonica Summer...

I’ll never forget that cracker barrel day,
A little breakfast of biscuits and gravy,
Marion blueberry pancakes and coffee,
Laughing with my Honey.

Passing the counter to pay the bill,
I saw a large pile and my thoughts quieted,
Red white and blue boxes full of silver,
Entitled Bluesband and made by Hohner.

An idea sprouted pretty as a dandelion,
I bought one up and walked out smiling,
Little boy big and blowing sweet tunes,
I’d found a harmonica come late June.

So much fun I had since that day,
I went back with money and ideas,
Bought up five more with a gleam in my eyes,
The gift of music was something I’d play.

I gave two to the neighbor boys next door,
After asking their daddy of course,
I gave one to a friend and to a bum,
Now begging is tuneful and entertaining for sure.

I gave the last to the gal down at the desk,
It turns out her nephew loves it quite dear,
Or the gal who sold them her little brother did play,
When he was little played himself off to sleep.

For the price of a nice dinner for two,
I can buy seven seven-year-old Christmas smiles,
The kind that go on in the heart forever,
Like Gabriel releasing the seven horns - but much nicer.

I’m going back every pay day,
Buying up gifts,
I’m looking forward to a city full of riffs,
By the end of Harmonica Summer.

AquarianM

By Daniel A. Stafford
© 06/30/2007


Friday, May 26, 2017

Flight To Cupid's Castle...


Post by AquarianM on May 26, 2007 at 6:23am

It's been months since I've heard from our friend Janine Daniel, our Faerie Princess from Down Under - so I thought I'd send her some "thinking of you" vibes by re-posting one we wrote together way back when.

Flight To Cupid's Castle...



I am the Faerie Princess Miriam,
From the land of Zillmere,
I feel confused and scared ,
Of the task facing me,
A curse has been cast across all the land,
I trembled with fear ,
When the witch Zarinda raised her hand,
"Let it be heard", screeched the crazy old crone,
"No more will I be cast down and spat upon by man,
A blight will pustulate across the earth,
Then all things will perish and rot unto death,
And only true love can stop the plague!"
So now I must journey,
To find a solution,
To vanquish this curse,

I am the poor Prince of Elves of Ellendae,
Aeronel, child of Elven rulers am I,
And upon our beautiful kingdom is an ancient covenant,
True love only may be the reason a ruler takes a royal spouse,
Or down will come crashing the kingdom,
'Twill be sunken beneath the sea,
Leaving only the Emerald Castle upon a lonely island,
Surrounded by an ocean of tears from sea to sea,
And upon my majority of yesterday,
I have one week to be upon my journey,
For I must travel the world in search of love,
And never may see the Emerald Castle should I fail,
And upon this Friday I must set my course and sail.

I've been travelling across the dying land,
I'm very tired and my wings are cracked and dry,
I haven't seen any living creatures for hours,
I've seen devastation all around and I can't help but cry,
For the last three hours I've been following some tracks,
Of man, beast or elf I know not what,
Now I'm lying prostrate and hidden behind a rock,
And I think I'm going quite out of my mind,
For up ahead resting under a tree I've spied,
An Ellendae Elf..... I can't believe my eyes,
He's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen,
And that's why I think this must be a dream,
If I wake myself up will he still be there?
I will approach him then if only I dare!

I've sailed my magic balloon o'er the Ellendae sea,
And touched down at it's shrinking edge,
'Twixt dried out creatures out of water I'm wandering,
And I've cried out my tears at the land's condition,
Not a living thing to sight nor sound,
The sun's heat is all pervasive in shimmering waves,
Ahead is the remnant of a mighty white oak in a ring of rocks,
A place to rest my weary bones after battling currents of air,
And sip a few draughts of enchanted Elven wine,
From a golden rune covered flask,
And carry on to the sight I see before me,
For might it be the answer to the world's prayers,
It's Cupid's Castle standing dancing in the heat shimmers,
And what is this, a beautiful Faerie hiding behind a rock?

I don't think he saw me hiding behind my rock,
I felt shy, nervous and excited all at once,
Should I trust this stranger with the beautiful smile?
Can I know someone just from the gleam in his eyes?
I pondered on these questions and became dismayed,
When the Elf left the clearing and quickly disappeared,
I cautiously stepped out and followed along the track,
He led me to a castle and I watched him enter a door,
What do I do now I wondered and I could feel my heart beat race,
My curiosity got the better of me and I decided to have a peek,
I opened the door slightly and surreptitiously looked inside,
He was waiting right there for me and he held out his hand,
For the first time that day we were standing face to face.

The Faerie lass has followed me in,
It was time we were introduced in close to proper manner,
We seem on the same path here in the blasted land,
So I think I will greet her and offer friendship's hand,
She is a sight to behold of great beauty,
Though her travels have been difficult it's plain to see,
"Dear Faerie lass I am one Aeronel Ellendar by name,
and the Prince of the Elves of Ellendae,
I can see you thirst and have travelled far,
Care you beautiful lady for a sip from this golden jar?"
"'Tis Elven wine and magic, too,
For it will restore your strength to you,
And I would not see harm come upon you,
Even though I have a quest I must see through."

"Sir Elf I shall if I truly may,
For a long flight it was to come this way,
And while we are sharing names so politely,
I am Miriam of Zillmere and Princess of the Realm."
I curtseyed in greeting and took a sip,
My wings gained back their shimmer and shine,
And all in all 'twas a pleasant find,
Here in this strange castle that looked so lovely,
Amidst a blasted blighted land that needed a tender hand,
Yet I wondered how could it be I would find,
A true love in the midst of this place and time.
"Do you know oh Prince of Ellendae,
The name of this castle of such good cheer,
And precisely what it is doing here?"

"Why, 'tis Cupid's Castle we are in this day,
And the reason for my quest leads me here,
Though I can not speak of it's nature until it has been fulfilled,
I think to speak with Cupid I will be thrilled."
"This land has suffered greatly it seems,
And I should love to see this awful blight gone away."
I thought then again how strange to find,
A Faerie of such beauty in a land so ill and awful,
And I wished not her company to lose,
For there was a terrible loneliness in even this place,
It struck me strange that such should be,
For this was the Keep Of Love in which we stood.
"Might we go, sweet Princess,
And find the master of this castle without delay?"

I held my breath and held my tongue,
For if this truly was the Keep Of Love,
I should seek it's master at once and without delay,
For He would be my best hope of vanquishing the curse,
For the crone had declared I must find true love,
Outside the borders of sweet Zillmere,
Or the blight would pox the world entire,
And only death and lifelessness would endure,
And I could not speak of the true nature of my quest,
And like the Elven Prince I could not dally,
For many lives hung in the balance,
So willingly I took his handsome hand.
"Kind Prince please lead on,
For I seek also to speak with the castle's master."

I walked towards the center of the keep,
The Princess's hand held within mine,
And somehow I was unsettled and felt unsure,
A feeling I'd never known before,
I had her constantly on my mind,
Though I should be thinking of the task to hand,
And the thick and stout walls as we walked echoed each footstep,
And with each step the hanging plants grew more flowers,
A lush array in which butterflies danced riots of colors,
And we quietly marvelled as love birds flew in sweeping arcs cooing,
And nightingales sang in sweet duets of birdying notes,
Small creatures in pairs of many kinds,
But not a single person did we spy,
Until at the central fountain did we arrive.

I walked along with the handsome Elf,
And it seemed as if I was falling under some spell,
For the castle had a sweet beauty and cheer,
But the butterflies in flight had cousins in my stomach,
And I felt nervous at every step,
And I could not ever remember feeling this way,
Even as I noticed the Elf looking my way so strangely.
Then we came upon the central courtyard,
And four great eagles stood at the compass points,
And a beautiful fountain rose at it's center,
A soft rosy marble and filled with pink light,
It's plumes misting to incredible height,
And rainbows danced in amongst the spray,
And it seemed at first a dove was flying our way.

"Hold fast ye two and move another step not!"
A great voice rolled over the pretty Faerie and I,
And I saw a white winged man settle upon the ground,
A great bow in his strong hands and quiver upon his shoulder,
And all set in gold and rubies and white roses,
And he held out his hand in a halting gesture,
And at this Miriam of Zillmere gasped a single word.
"Cupid!"
I found my arm around her shoulder,
And I knew fear for her safety in great measure,
As Cupid stared at us with a rose red gaze,
And then he spoke in a quiet yet powerful voice.
"You may not come near the waters of my fountain,
For 'tis there my arrows are dipped!"

"I am Cupid, Eros, Cherub of Love,
Son of Venus, child of Aphrodite,
And you walk my grounds uninvited."
I knew of course their names,
And yet these two beings walked my grounds,
A halo of mystery surrounding their purpose in my domain,
And never have I been denied sight,
Nor knowledge of every corner of any creature's heart,
Save this time with the Elf Prince and Faerie Princess.
I drew my bow and strung an un-dipped arrow,
Prepared to strike if some evil was afoot,
And quite confused at this entire scene.
Being a God of Love is a lonely position,
For one can never see with clarity,
When one's own heart is involved,
And could not give a magical love away on one's own behalf,
Knowing that such had been induced rather than earned,
Yet this was the only unclarity I had ever seen,
And of these twain I was most wary.

"Speak now and tell me your purpose in this castle,
Beginning with your royal highness of Zillmere!"
Cupid said unto me with great power,
Eyes flashing rose-colored daggers our way
"I am told Lord Cupid that I cannot say without ruin,
Yet a God I may not disobey so you shall hear."
"I am charged by the evil witch Zarinda to find true love,
Outside the bounds of sweet Zillmere in the barren lands,
And within the span of one month or the blight will spread,
Engulfing all the land and ending all life upon the world."
At this news Prince Aeronel gasped and looked wild,
As if some great shock had struck him like an arrow.
"Now yon Elf please speak your tale."
I heard Cupid's velvet and power voice say.

"Lord Cupid I find this quite strange,
Especially on the heels of Princess Miriam's revelation,
For I am charged to find true love outside dear Ellendae,
Or the seas will swallow the world within the month,
Leaving only the Emerald Elven Castle Eadaeling to stand,
And nothing left living in all the world,
Just the dead floating in a sea of tears."
I heard the princess gasp in shock at my revelation,
And Lord Cupid looked both perplexed and ponderous,
And I could see he was deep in thought.
"I can see no lies in either of your hearts,
And these secrets you reveal are unknown to me,
Which has never before come to be."
"Stand fast and move not lest you destroy all." said Cupid.

These magic folk of royalty posed quite the issue of the age,
For if they truly were charged to seek true love,
It could not be bespelled from a magic arrow,
It must arise of it's own accord within their hearts,
Lest all the world be blighted, flooded, or both,
And somehow I must make them understand that I could not,
Should not and dare not give them the arrows,
And surely that is what they sought here upon my grounds,
'Twas plain to see they'd hoped a God of Love come to rescue,
An avenue from peril to be saved.
'Twas then I spied a glimmer of hope,
For in revealing their secrets to me the veil was lifted,
I could again see within their hearts plainly,
And knew my mother had granted life back to the world.
It was upon me to make these twain see their salvation.
"I shall be forced to kill one of you twain,
For in so doing I can end one curse and help the other,
And save the world from devastation."
"You must choose among you which it must be."

I gasped in horror at the God's proclamation,
And an awful feeling stole my very breath,
And I, Princess Miriam of Zillmere wept crystal tears,
For I did not wish to die while so young and hale,
And then the terror invaded my brain in white agony,
For when my thoughts turned to the death of Aeronel,
I found that this I could not face nor bear,
He was kind and handsome and young and brave,
And had done his best to save the world as he was charged,
And in that moment a realization stole my sight with tears,
For I knew then what love was in truth,
And what the threat of loss of love was in horrid truth,
For I had fallen in love with Prince Aeronel!
"It must be I, oh Cupid, hurt Aeronel not!"

"Nay, 'twill be I and not Miriam!"
My brain had gone to white fire,
I, Prince Aeronel of Ellendae,
I could not let this beautiful creature that I,
That I loved?!
I could not fathom a world denied her beauty,
A world where such a kind heart was laid waste,
And dearly as I wished to live I could not let her die,
So I leapt forward ready to throw myself in combat,
Willing to face an armed and angry God for her sake,
And knew I would die upon the moment,
Yet Miriam and the world would have a chance to live,
For my death would negate my duty,
Giving all else a chance to live including beautiful Miriam.

When both these royals flew at me,
Showing their nobility in truth,
And revealing the truth I had seen in their hearts,
I knew the day was won,
For they held true love right there in their hearts,
Beating strong and true,
So I froze them still in mid spring,
And called them each by name,
"Miriam, Aeronel, can you not see now clearly?"
"Has love so blinded you?"
I waved my hand and conjured us clear of castle and fountain,
And we all stared in awe as tiny green shoots rose all about,
And the land slowly came back to life.
A great bush of white roses grew in half circle round lovers twain,
And I placed a white rose in Miriam's golden hair,
And another upon Aeronel's chest,
And with tears in all our eyes I made them husband and wife,
And thus terrible Winter was held at bay,
For in their loving was birthed young Spring.

Spinny; AquarianM

By: Janine Daniel & Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 09/10/2001

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Daniel and I and our poem have been chosen for "Feature Poets" (October 15 thru November 15, 2001) by Literary Angels for their website at poetryclub.com



*~*~*~**~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

This poem was given an award by Mystic Wings from
Flowing Quills Poetry forum called
"Mystic's Award for a Magical Moments Poem" 13th September 2005

Thursday, May 25, 2017

Caught In The Battle Of Hearts And Minds...


Post by AquarianM on Jul 28, 2007 at 4:16am

Caught In The Battle Of Hearts And Minds...

Summer weighs over us,
We are grasses on the prairie,
Wind-swept in waves and dancing,
We struggle for the capture of cooling rain,
Helpless when thunder rolls and rumbles,
Some burnt by the heartless lightning.

We whisper and rustle and lean with the wind,
Holding to our roots for all we’re worth.

Yet if our seeds take Earth’s embrace,
We may yet cover the world in our life.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 07/28/2007

Wednesday, May 24, 2017

Who Will Fill This World?


Post by AquarianM on Aug 18, 2007 at 12:40pm

Who Will Fill This World?

I sit in the grey rainlight wondering,
Amidst clouds of pillowed steel,
Reading my peers and feeling,
I breathe in the angst like burned steel in this air,
Feeling a tentative green ghost waiting to be born,
A future we might yet bear to fruition,
A whiff of hope drifting up from my cup,
Of ginger-peach iced tea.

When you remember everything good in life,
Isn't it the moment someone you cherished cradled you,
Stroked your hair or hummed gently holding your hand?

What I know is that using anger like a tool burns you,
From the inside out it eats you alive,
It doesn't matter if you're an entire culture or a lonely heart,
It will make you its breakfast lunch and dinner,
As surely as this world spins 'round the sun -
I've seen it happen with my own two eyes.

We were great as a nation and as a people,
At those moments we were most filled with these things -
Dreams, hope, inspiration, compassion, vision.

What I know is that love fills you,
Feeds you and nourishes you and gently guides you,
And if you want to revere the past and those who went before,
Let their angers subside and yours as well,
Get closer to your ghosts in the memory of those moments that glow,
When they dreamed and loved and accomplished,
Give your ghosts a real future -
By dreaming and loving and accomplishing.

Tearing down takes moments,
Building up is always the real work.
What is it you birth?
Who will fill this world?

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 08/18/2007

Tuesday, May 23, 2017

Cherry Moon Prayers...


Post by AquarianM on Jul 29, 2007 at 10:57pm

Cherry Moon Prayers...

Tall in the full moonlight,
Leaning the heartwood cherry staff upon his own ground,
Centered under a red star and white,
The moon-glow fell through into the land,
Words flowing.

"Let light flow through this wood and I,
Let love be the color never denied,
Let fear fade like a distant dream,
Heal us now - love life,
Let us live beside you and in you,
Let us live beside and inside one another,
Let life love,
I will so serve."


The night answered in crickets on the breeze,
In rustling grasses and firefly flashes,
In the twinkle of the stars glinted off his watch bezel,
Simplicity in the passage of time,
The night is filled with shades of grey,
For color there is little light.

The day will surely come.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 07/30/2007

Monday, May 22, 2017

Totality...


Post by AquarianM on Aug 28, 2007 at 5:00am

Totality...

I reached for my cherry staff and walked,
In the whispering subconscious of pre-dawn,
Intent on seeing the Blood Moon,
Totality - the Earth's shadow eating Luna.

Sadly the fractal clouds hid her demise,
She would be reborn on the other side of Earth,
Child of our mother-world that she is.

I had to satisfy myself with another rare view,
Earth's brother Mercury tucked between two rosy dawn clouds,
I whispered to the Messenger,
Playing notes softly at the Crossroads,
Just a few whispers of harmonica.

The un-finished cherry staff stands as tall as me,
Filled with the un-seen energies of the Blood Moon,
And the visible energies of the Messenger,
Still wearing its rough bark and un-capped,
A sphere of Brazilian Amethyst awaits to crown it,
Once I find the runes true,
I will focus the sun-glass on the bare wood,
And burn its true name in Rongrongo.

Then and only then will I finish it,
Give it its foot,
And walk with its totality.

AquarianM

By Daniel A. Stafford
© 08/28/2007

Sunday, May 21, 2017

Beach Glass...


Post by AquarianM on Sep 1, 2007 at 8:53pm

Beach Glass...

Softened bauble tossed by waves,
There in the tumble of my favorite lake,
You dance with pretty stones and driftwood,
Washed up and old but elegant.

It's something gentler the waves bring,
Walking down the sand with the gulls,
They float and they dance,
The waves break and break and break.

A soft roar and a driftwood stick,
Footprints and foam and green and blue,
Sunshine and yellow-tan with glints all about,
Looking for shells and other treasures,

We drift along in timeless reverie,
Until it's time to just lie still,
Sun-baked and wind-washed,
Filled with the beach-scent of the lake.

We take one shell,
Soft violet tinge inside,
And four colors of beach glass,
Green and amber and white and faded blue.

Treasures to set in a cigar box,
Children at play in endless time,
Tokens and omens and wishes of fishes,
An art of life that's sublime.

I turn it in my fingers and see all the beach glass colors,
Softly in my mind summer is ending,
Sharp edges gone and nights just beginning to cool,
Tumbled at the edge of Lake Time.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 09/01/2007

Saturday, May 20, 2017

12 Years Old And Waiting For Christmas...

12 Years Old And Waiting For Christmas...


(Image copyright Electra Bicycles [ www.electrabike.com ] - do not copy.)

I saw it right after the Ghost Rider movie,
A blast back into childhood,
Visions of cruising down to the corner store,
Transistor radio strap dangling from my wrist,
Headed for the beach or the swimming pool,
All towel and wind and sunshine,
A gleaming simple dream,
I could recover forever,
If I could just have one for Christmas,
Every friend I ever had riding with the pack,
Maybe in Christmas future,
Maybe in gleaming dreams,
Ride in the sunshine,
Ride like the wind,
Ride like you'll never stop.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 02/20/2007

Friday, May 19, 2017

Atlantis...


Post by AquarianM on Sep 2, 2007 at 12:11am

Atlantis...

We lost her,
Slipped between the waves,
Magical and mythical,
Or maybe not.

Was there a time before time,
All men and women spoke a common language,
All colors were equal and equally needed,
Magic was more than a dream?

The Earth rocked and volcanoes rolled,
Sea rose and land fell,
Knowledge became only dreams,
Mist and steam fogged history.

They say Atlantis was beautiful,
Grand and accomplished,
A wistful grace and strong face,
Everything we could have been.

I wonder,
Deep and blue I wonder,
What lies below,
What is under the sea?

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 09/02/2007

Thursday, May 18, 2017

A Lace Of White Light...


Post by AquarianM on Jan 5, 2007 at 11:41pm

A Lace Of White Light...
I had a vision once,
Saw what's underneath everything,
Or maybe inside everything,
The floors - the walls - the ceiling - the sky,
The birds - the bees - illusions of you and I.

It was beautiful,
Graceful and gracious,
Something to fall back on in darkest hours,
The greatest composition ever recorded.

Everything effervescently interconnected,
The most beautiful knots ever crafted,
Knit and tied in the finest structures,
A fountain of laces,
In an energy field of pearly gold-flecked white light.

I blinked...

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 01/06/2007

Wednesday, May 17, 2017

I Can Hear Why They Speak Of Soul...


Post by AquarianM on Mar 9, 2007 at 6:05pm

I Can Hear Why They Speak Of Soul...

Those saxophones will wail under your skin,
Grab you by the heartstrings and pull your hackles up to Heaven,
And when Coltrane has A Love Supreme,
Divinity gets a gift,
Uplifting even my poor freshman efforts,
I am one with the brass for a few minutes after listening,
Grafted into the mother of pearl that tweaks sculpted air,
The springs fall with precision,
And if I reach for the distant stars and barely touch clouds,
It's because I've yet to find the Rainbow Bridge,
But I can hear the soul light across the horizon,
It gleams from their footprints,
Harp - Koz - Hawkins - Alexander,
I am pulled in their updraft,
Wishing for flight.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 03/09/2007

Tuesday, May 16, 2017

Set In Stone...


Post by AquarianM on Jan 17, 2007 at 11:06pm

Set In Stone...

Tiny hammer and intricate chisel,
Needles of brass and copper,
Walls of paper and cherry blossoms falling,
Silk upon my shoulders,
I set the world in stone for a calling,
Pictures of everything for a perfect price,
Years or weeks in the making,
No consequence in time,
Regardless of difficulty it is the art,
Always the art.

One must have patience to achieve the sublime.

AquarianM

(C) 01/18/2007

As I was writing this, I was thinking of the artisans of long-ago China, and the exquisitely detailed works they'd render in jade and white ivory. Stunning examples very ancient can be found in a small museum called the Lizzadro Museum of Lapidary Art in Elmhurst, IL I believe, and in the Jade Room at the Chicago Field Museum. This poem is for those who work the stone.

Dan




www.lizzadromuseum.org

www.fieldmuseum.org/exhibits/exhibit_sites/jades/index.html

Monday, May 15, 2017

Sunshine And Barefoot...


Post by AquarianM on May 8, 2007 at 9:11am

Sunshine And Barefoot...

Sweet soft old songs ring through my mind,
A maybe we remember it kinder, simpler time.

Gone fishin' - there's a sign up on our door.

The foundations of hate down low and dug up dirty,
like the roots of a poison vine to burn inside-out.

Gone fishin' - we ain't a-workin' anymore.

There's a whole lot of sun just shinin' cross the country,
And I love to go barefoot where the green grass grows - slow.

Gone fishin' - we're only havin' fun.

Under a shady tree I dream of my brothers being there with me,
Black - white - red - brown - yellow laughin' and tugging on taut string.

Gone fishin' - by a shady-wady pool.

We'll sit and joke and watch big cigar clouds change shape,
That blue sky we share full of visions.

Gone fishin' - glad we're that kind of fool.

I see an image of screaming meanies in the news and point it out,
We stuff their mouths with sweet potato pie as a big blue heron flies from the South.

Gone fishin' - our hound dogs by our sides.

An army of gentle clouds rebuilding everything everywhere together,
Cloud guns raining down to soak away in the ground.

Gone fishin' - the fleas are biting at their hides.

We do it better than before in ways that heal the land,
Side-by-side Mother Nature and every shade of hand.

Gone fishin' - instead of just a-wishin'.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford, Louis Armstrong, Bing Crosby
© 05/08/2007

Author's Note: The single-line "gone fishin' " refrain is from a duet sung by Louis Armstrong (Satchmo) and Bing Crosby. The rest of the lines with it are mine.

Sunday, May 14, 2017

Houses Unholy…


Post by AquarianM on May 10, 2007 at 12:03am

Houses Unholy…

Double-dipping mortgage Queens,
Sucking energy sight-unseen,
Death traps down in New Orleans,
A self-imposed case of ball-n-chains,
Phosphorus fountain spewing into the Gulf until the fish all gel,
Artisan crafting a red-tide Hell,
All due to demand for that elegant classic design,
We can’t seem to trip beyond the status of Grandpa’s time,
Architects - the Energy Hog loves your sign,
I’m desperately trying selling mine,
Of solar panels and hot water I never found the time,
Still working off toeing Com Ed’s line,
Sucking on the Nicor straw like a buzz saw,
Chewing up my wallet in a Home Depot maw,
Created by a now-enriched demon spawn,
At least I refused chemicals to poison up the lawn,
A sweet little picture by the online for-sale sign,
God please help me – it’ll again be moving time,
Sweep and mop and paint and hammer,
If we don’t pay up it’s the Poor Man’s slammer,
And we laugh at the ‘fools’ begging in the streets,
While these houses unholy commit a third of global warming deeds,
So kill some more oceans with that brand-new key,
Turn up the lights and feed the fish more mercury,
I’m making save-me-from-the-evil-eye signs,
Wishing I’d hired a master architect with a really green design,
But at least the sheets are washed and we’re all appropriate,
Fully decked out in the stealth commission of Halloween,
Oh – my lord – there’s a hole in the screen,
Shouldn’t have bought it sight un-seen,
But our household devotion,
Is sinking island nations under the ocean,
Holy oblivious, Batman, we're aggregate and solely,
Idiots chained to houses unholy.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 05/10/2007

Saturday, May 13, 2017

Sultry In May…


Post by AquarianM on May 9, 2007 at 11:00pm

Sultry In May…

The ceiling fans are a brown swirl down,
Windows open breeze rush through the house,
TV droning lazing on the big plush green couch,
Cats are panting off in their curled up spots.

Outside it’s shirtsleeves and sparkling stars,
Flowers in the dark and leaves on the trees,
A hint of rain scent like a held-back promise in the air,
The grass is creeping ‘round my ankles awaiting a fresh mow.

Cigar lighting and stereo tuning,
Thinking of saxophone riffs as I drive off to work,
Truck window partly down,
Reveling in summer’s preview.

One could fall in love with these sultry nights in May.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 05/10/2007

Friday, May 12, 2017

I Can’t Speak…(But I can Still Feel)


Post by AquarianM on May 11, 2007 at 11:13pm

I Can’t Speak…(But I can Still Feel)

Faded,
Lost,
Replaced,
Chased,
Was,
Because?

Hidden,
Suppressed,
Repressed,
Squashed,
Ignored,
Like a pink elephant.

Time,
Ticks,
Tocks,
Nothing,
Done,
Undone.

Cheerful,
Perfect,
Faded,
Jaded,
Persuaded,
Touched,
Hushed.

Cinnamon in my blood.

Another night dawns.

Question,
Living,
Dead,
Happy,
Sad,
Here,
There,
Where?

Forever,
Never,
Ever,
Hush,
Shush,
Off,
Close,
Dry,
Eye,
Lie.

No matter,
Not after,
Just remember,
Purple and auburn,
A night,
A scent,
A sight,
A vision,
A decision.

It’s not regret,
Just inevitable,
What fire does to fuel,
Supernova,
Dazzled,
Disgraced,
Replaced,
Forget,
Forever,
Never,
Helpless,
Ever,
Heart.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 05/12/2007

Thursday, May 11, 2017

A Crown Of Straw And A Starry Sky...


Post by AquarianM on May 22, 2007 at 3:40am

A Crown Of Straw And A Starry Sky...

He saw the Sun slinking out of the hot pink sky,
Fading down to indigo with Evening’s delectable satisfaction,
Tears of joy dribbled across her cloud tresses,
Companion Moon out to chat with the comets.

It was the luxury of a balmy not lurid night.

Aurora played light-footed across Heaven at his wish,
The straw hat crown upon his head slightly tilted,
A blue heron gliding home to roost like a marsh ghost,
Street lights glowing in the distance.

Cicada violins screeched out a lonesome tune.

He was the king of this field,
Minions by millions fireflies danced their sky,
A tom cat yowled off in the distance,
Somewhere off across the tall grasses a stereo played.

You could forget you weren’t a child on a night like this.

Leaning back in a blue and white lawn chair throne,
His cigar of cherry signaled for peace,
Brought it down in waves,
A satellite dimly raced over the horizon.

A king of grass with summer just begun.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 05/22/2007

Wednesday, May 10, 2017

Call The Heart Into It...


Post by AquarianM on Jun 5, 2007 at 2:28am

Call The Heart Into It...

If I could bend a ray of starlight down to Earth,
Touch it to breast like a mirror,
Angle it just exactly soul,
It would touch every heart on Earth at the speed of light,
Connect us all as visually as we already are,
And just once everyone could feel and see the same,
Even for a moment,
All superficial differences forgotten,
The perfect work of art finally complete,
All I’d need is just the right note,
To call the heart into it.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 06/05/2007

Tuesday, May 09, 2017

Quicherbichenenwhinin...


Post by AquarianM on Feb 9, 2007 at 10:24am

Quicherbichenenwhinin...

I was listening to that old disco stuff the other day,
Pumped and hiking and feeling strong,
Upped and ready to steamroll my way anywhere,
And I thought about why it went like that.

The music was UP,
The lyrics were UP,
The volume was UP,

Something you mostly find in 50's n' 60's -
Or under a sequin globe with strobes and blacklights,
Stacks 'n polyester wide-collars.

Quicherbichenenwhinin,
I'm tired of sad whiny and angry effeverbody muzak,
Lazysorry gangstasrapp.

Get out the can-do,
Get out the get-go,
Get out the strong self,
Pick up yoassis 'n move um,

Quicherbichenenwhinin cuz it's never gonna go UP,
Get dat tunepower back,
Lift da monkey off yo back,
If you don't see it 'n do it no one will,
U can cry an holler all ya dang want to,
But if all you vision is da bad 'n da ugly,
Yeah, well, U gonna be all THAT.

I wanna go where da action is,
I'm gonna SEE it,
I'm gonna HEAR it,
I'm gonna FEEL it,
I'm gonna ACT it...

I gotta boogie,

Cuz I am deaf dumb an' blind ta allyerbichenenwhinin,

I am up and outta da cloud,

Kiss off Clearchannel and stuff it Carlisle,

This mind-game down-sukin' da mood black hole is gone,

I am UP with my old dusty but trusty tunes,
Cuz I got control of my choice of mood and ...

I ain't one a da fools.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 02/09/2007

Currently listening :
Saturday Night Fever: The Original Movie Sound Track

Monday, May 08, 2017

A Gentleman Of Every Color...


Post by AquarianM on May 18, 2007 at 7:12am

A Gentleman Of Every Color...

In the distant space of a colorblind whirled,
Flags are anachronisms best kept furled,
Something of darkness missing and away,
All we need is sunshine to spend happy days.

I'm not sure where the words come from but I know truth when I feel it.

Slanting by decorations is so utterly silly,
Foolishness slapped about all willy-nilly,
If sunshine were blue,
Could you still be all-white and believe it true?

Forget it man, halos are in rainbows...

A dash a dot and an old mahogany fiddle,
Answer me quick one simple riddle,
Was it lack of soul,
That kept so many packed in the Bowl?

I'll call my friends from everywhere to watch the stage.

It's a simpleton idea whose time should end,
Open your hearts and find good friends,
Dance in the streets and jump for joy,
Life is a place where a kind word is more than a toy.

A dashing figure was split through a prism...

A gentleman of every color.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 05/18/2007

Sunday, May 07, 2017

Sunshine And Silence At The Green Leaf...


Post by AquarianM on May 19, 2007 at 11:53am

Sunshine And Silence At The Green Leaf...

The karaoke machine is dark and dusty - un-plugged,
People in the corner reading have no idea poets exist,
The sun is streaming down just out the window,
A palace of birds and butterflies.

The wooden chairs and tables out front bleaching,
For lack of shade from a bum -
I eat my organic hummus plate,
Sipping ginger-peach iced tea.

Conscious Choice looks fun this month,
A big green leaf on a black and white backdrop,
Something beautiful waiting,
Waiting in a colorless world.

Everyone loves an audience,
Even and especially poets,
The audience is us my friends,
Because poetry is OUR love.

A tree grows from its roots,
Persistent and strong,
Yet without each leaf and branch,
A hollow trunk it becomes.

It takes consistency to build a venue,
They never come already-made,
Someone sat through quiet days and nights,
Before the poets all stayed.

I'll come here after working all night,
A sunny day inside a quiet space,
Waiting for all my friends the leaves,
I know they're blowing on the wind.

Someday Spring will come,
The dawning leaves will bud,
I'm enjoying my tenure in peace of place,
Sunshine and silence at the Green Leaf.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 05/19/2007

Saturday, May 06, 2017

A Great Time To Go Green...


Post by AquarianM on May 24, 2007 at 1:42am

A Great Time To Go Green...

Grass blades blowing tall sway over -
Short ripples on the ground -
Waving branches laugh above.

The Earth is tender-loving her worms,
Sun-soaked and lurid,
Flower bursts sail the wind,
Faerie dust sprinkles on each gentle breeze.

Eyes completely full with lush,
Birds joyful of song everywhere,
If we could just hold our foul breath,
Exhale love and walk - walk - walk amongst all this.

Green reaches in and grabs your soul,
Imploring for barefoot on her organic best,
Reconnect and revive and survive,
Even though it's lovely swimming in true blue...

It's a GREAT time to go Green.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
© 05/24/2007