Life Of A Dual Nature

 

Author	Date Entered/Modified	Views
Daniel A. Stafford	10/5/2000 4:49:12 PM 10/8/2020 1:43:30 AM	1052

Life Of A Dual Nature

Many years went by as I struggled inside,
Between the extremes of shame and pride.
White sheep, black sheep, I could never know,
What was the truth, and did it show?

Two families, two positions in them.

Brother and sis by my Dad,
They were the good ones,
I was wild and bad.
Looked at from a different angle.

All twisted up in confusion inside.

At Mom's house, I had a heart of gold,
I was the nicest sheep in the fold,
Brother and sister kept me on the run,
Trying to stay one step ahead of their fun.

I guess we all fit different in our minds.

Two ways of looking at myself,
Good little bad boy, here's to your health.
Interesting thoughts now that I'm grown,
If Mom had stayed with Dad I'd have never known.

What's clear is that it's who you're around.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C)2000

Author's Comments

It fascinates me now. If things had been different, if I had grown up in a different environment, I would have seen myself so differently on the inside, my evaluations of who I was, my personal definition of me, well, that would have been quite different than it turned out to be.

Author	Date Entered/Modified	Views
Daniel A. Stafford	10/5/2000 4:49:12 PM 10/8/2020 1:43:30 AM	1052

Author	Email	Web
Daniel A. Stafford	aqmstaffo@mailbag.com	www.mailbag.com/users/aqmstaffo/index.html

Total Comments: 1

Comments
Janine Daniel	spinnys@hotmail.com	www.spinnys.com	10/7/2000 12:40:44 AM
I understand perfectly what you're saying. Maybe we all wonder what we would be like if our childhood had've been different. My thing was I was bad on the outside and good on the inside and totally misunderstood. Another thought provoking poem by "Daniel's Creations" .... *S*

The Call Of The Wheel

Author	Date Entered/Modified	Views
Daniel A. Stafford	10/5/2000 4:27:49 PM 10/10/2020 5:12:40 AM	743

The Call Of The Wheel

Can you feel the pull?
The need to escape the endless samness and discover?
The silence, the radio, the rushing sound of tires.
Start again in a place that's new.

Long drives can spark the mind.

Internal conversations with my soul,
Long meditations as I roll.
Country stations and Paul Harvey's story,
And vistas along highways, American glory.

The hypnotic eating of distance goes on and on.

I wonder as the scenery goes by,
I see a bird or flowers and sigh.
I wonder what it must be like to be,
Always in one place, all the changes to see.

What that spot is like, season to season, year to year.

The feeling of the unknown to be met,
New friends and new sights,
New thoughts, new words, new night lights.
A world more lived in to see yet.

Now I'm more settled in place.

Weekend rides to see a new place,
Discovery craved wherever I can find a trace,
Something new in time and space,
But my roots aren't so hard to face.

Ride on, learn on, love the world, poet.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C)2000

Author's Comments

All of my life, I've never stayed in the same place more than four years since early childhood. Long trips to new places around the United States are like a familiar old friend, always introducing new places and things into my life. Now that I've bought a home and settled much more solidly, I find myself craving new settings now and then, like an avenue of growth and restoral is missing. Sometimes it feels like living the way I did was like having a "reset" button for life. If it wasn't so great where you were, you just hit the highway and tried again in a new place. Of course, coping with change is maybe a touch easier for it, too. I think this old pattern makes it easier for me to contemplate changes on a large scale in my life than for someone who grew up with a more "stable" pattern, always living in the same place, never being gone for more than a few weeks at most.....just my theory.

Author	Date Entered/Modified	Views
Daniel A. Stafford	10/5/2000 4:27:49 PM 10/10/2020 5:12:40 AM	743

Author	Email	Web
Daniel A. Stafford	aqmstaffo@mailbag.com	www.mailbag.com/users/aqmstaffo/index.html

Total Comments: 2

Comments
APoetsPerspective			10/6/2000 8:10:38 AM
Nice work Daniel, I've often thought that the gift of a poet is to be able to see the same world, but from a slightly different perspective, be it time or place. From your words, you've travelled the places that other do, but wonder at the sights. And put to words wonderfully, -j
Janine Daniel	spinnys@hotmail.com	www.spinnys.com	10/7/2000 12:31:54 AM
Can I just say ditto to this poem Dan? Did you say no, okay, then I'll elaborate... haha. Remember I had a father who was in the RAAF? We moved a lot too and after I left home this trend continued right up until I moved here where I'm living now. Buying a house tends to stop this wanderlust. But it doesn't stop the feeling that a person should move on. The good side is that you get to experience a lot. This poem expresses it beautifully... that feeling. Another great creation from you.

 

In The Soft Glow Of Moonlit Roses

Author	Date Entered/Modified	Views
Daniel A. Stafford	5/15/2000 7:52:11 PM 10/5/2020 1:32:48 AM	2285

In The Soft Glow Of Moonlit Roses

In the crystal ball of my mind's eye, I see you.
In the depths of my heart, I know you.

In the soft glow of moonlit roses, I try to spark your memory.

Do you remember, before we were begun?
Do you understand the destiny we have won?

In the soft glow of moonlit roses, I whisper your name.

The last time we were here, before we were born, you gave your heart to me.
In the mists of long ago, our love was meant to be.

In the soft glow of moonlit roses, we dance cheek to cheek.

In hours of darkeness without number, I've held dreams of you close to my heart.
In the magical Avalon of Ever Been, we once held hands and made a new start.

In the soft glow of moonlit roses, the beautiful music slowly plays.

We have shared our sparkling wine in cups fashioned of unborn memories.
In the shaded glades of karma, a forest of all knowing, we laugh and view the trees.

In the soft glow of moonlit roses, our bodies gently sway.

In days before our return from heaven, we heard choirs of angels sing.
Together we stood at the foundation of all and heard the bells of creation ring.

In the soft glow of moonlit roses, we surrender to each other with joy.

And now, in the soft glow of moonlit roses, one more we love returns from heaven to join us.

And the cycle of love winds on in harmony.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C) 2000

Author's Comments

When you find your soul mate, rejoice in the wisdom of creation, that could be so kind.

This is my favorite poem of the heart, and I thought it would be appropriate to bring back
for this month's topic.

Author	Date Entered/Modified	Views
Daniel A. Stafford	5/15/2000 7:52:11 PM 10/5/2020 1:32:48 AM	2285

Author	Email	Web
Daniel A. Stafford	aqmstaffo@mailbag.com	www.mailbag.com/users/aqmstaffo/index.html

Total Comments: 7

Comments
Mia Jennings	Mia@pconline.com	http:www.pconline.com/~cwj/miwha.html	5/15/2000 8:17:51 PM
Daniel This poem was absolutely beautiful. I enjoyed reading this one. Mia
Janine Daniel	spinnys@hotmail.com	http://www.spinnys.com	6/22/2000 9:18:35 PM
Dan, it's me again. I'm still shivering after reading this one. (Am I allowed to say that? haha) Really though, ooooh, it made my spine tingle. It really had an effect on me and you may remember (or maybe not) but I love this sort of poetry. I don't know if I could describe how I felt reading it as graphically as I did after reading the first one but I think you know me enough to read between the lines. Your girl friend (woman) is one lucky person in my book. Thank-you Daniel for giving this person a moment of shivers in her other-wise dull existence ... :o)
Claud	klugecc@jps.net		7/19/2000 4:16:32 AM
Hi It occurred to me that as poets we tend to be somewhat self-centered at times and thereby miss a lot of good things that others have to offer. I, therefore, have undertaken to read and comment on all the poems posted on the 50 most veiwed and 50 most recent catagories. I can find some good in the poorest of poetry and something to critisize in the best of poetry. The project may take some time but the fact that you are reading this should indicate that I've read this piece and enjoyed, at least, some if not all of what you ‘ve written. I'll leave the judging to the experts. It.s enough for me to know the you cared enough to share your work with us all. I would also encourage you all to share your thoughts with me and all the others that have contributed to this website. Just remember: A SONG IS NOT A SONG ‘TIL YOU SING IT A BELL IS NOT A BELL ‘TIL YOU RING IT LOVE IS NOT PUT IN YOUR HEART TO STAY LOVE IS NOT LOVE ‘TIL YOU GIVE IT AWAY Claud
Sue Allie	bttfly9@yahoo.com	http://www.geocities.com/Heartland/Garden/9843	7/21/2000 8:05:43 PM
Sweet visions fill my mind when I read this one!
Maven	determined2@hotmail.com	http://www.homepages.go.com/~jasondallas/raven.html	9/28/2000 4:15:56 PM
Some things you can look at, but not touch. Typical romantic interlude. "thought provoking"
APoetsPerspective			2/15/2001 1:01:36 PM
Thanks Dan for bring this one back to the fore front for this month's theme on love. Good poetry is timeless and this one is right on the mark any time, and more so for Valentine's day. Thanks for sharing this one with us again! -j
Leigh	marin@kci.net	http://leighscorner.com	2/15/2001 7:30:21 PM
This is utterly beautiful, Dan. It says everything that finding your soulmate is. It leaves one breathless .... Leigh

 

Innocents & Futures

Author	Date Entered/Modified	Views
Daniel A. Stafford	10/5/2000 4:21:39 PM 10/16/2020 12:03:39 PM	859

Innocents & Futures

Have you ever had a child give you that look?
You know, the one that goes straight through you, it's so honest?
The one that pierces to the heart of the matter as they comment,
Not even thinking of anything but what is and should be?

Have you ever seen a smile as openly given,
Or a laugh so genuine and free,
Or "wow" said quite as honestly?
Where can you find a purer hug,
Or more distilled to the most basic feelings?

Everything new arrives in a child,
Dreams, visions, ideas, futures.
Bearers of hopes they know little of,
Angels or imps, filled with happy mischief or love.

The sweetest visage of cuteness you know,
The picture of innocence that you watch as they grow.
Tradition and history is all needed and fine,
But without their hope it's the end of our line.

Nothing survives without them, you see.
They are our gifts to the future and to you and me.
Laugh along and teach them your best,
Then watch and wonder as they invent the next of the rest.

There's nothing quite as pretty as a new mother's glow,
Except a happy giggle, with a tiny smile in tow.
Everything we do in this world, in our days,
Belongs to them in every way.

They are all, everything, of true importance that we leave.
In your children, heartily believe,
Love them with nothing at all up your sleeve,
And feed them knowledge, forget to deceive.

After all, shining eyes look up to you.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C)2000

Author's Comments

Children are all the hope we have in the end. Our job here,
is to be the best teachers we can be. We must teach by
example, by caring, by informing, and by loving.
As well as we do these things, so will our world be
them after we pass beyond our time.

Author	Date Entered/Modified	Views
Daniel A. Stafford	10/5/2000 4:21:39 PM 10/16/2020 12:03:39 PM	859

Author	Email	Web
Daniel A. Stafford	aqmstaffo@mailbag.com	www.mailbag.com/users/aqmstaffo/index.html

Total Comments: 2

Comments
APoetsPerspective			10/6/2000 8:11:58 AM
I think children are our best teachers. They are still learning and sometimes we find that we have forgotten how to learn and see. -j
Janine Daniel	spinnys@hotmail.com	www.spinnys.com	10/7/2000 12:21:04 AM
This's the best poetic description I've seen about children. Your poems get better and better Dan. I love this poem.

 

Halloween Costumes & High School Fashions:

Author	Date Entered/Modified	Views
Daniel A. Stafford	10/4/2000 4:53:07 PM 8/21/2020 12:14:34 AM	850

Halloween Costumes & High School Fashions:

As a little child, dress-up meant to me,
Being the coolest monster,
On a Trick-or-Treat October spree.
My favorite shirt looked like Will Robinson's,
Poor kid so lost in space.
Remember the robot's warning,
Or the fear in Doc Smith's face?
My sister loved being a dinosaur,
Mom had sewed it so well,
She laughed giggled growls,
Dragging a long green tail.
I looked like a giant bear,
Smoking a huge cigar,
Fedora hat on my furry head,
A laughing grizzly guy.

In high school, dress-up meant to me,
Long hair, feathered back,
And the biggest bells on bottoms,
Flared out jeans making me as cool as I could be.
Looking for approval in my schoolmates' eyes.
Sis was wearing halter tops,
Painted on jeans our style,
Adidas or cool Nike's, the shoes with which to go,
In a seventies kind of glow.
I remember oh, so well, looking just like the TV show,
My Mom had that hair, and we all used hair dryers that blow.
Madison Wisconsin, a cool place to be,
Although there were kids a lot cooler than me,
My friends joined in and we fit in our places,
Trying our best to be,
Cooler than cool, all of you and me.

As an adult, dressing-up means to me,
Nice clothes and neat hair,
Shaved and pressed respectable,
But when I want to kick back,
Hang with friends casually,
I still love seventies clothes,
I can't kick high school out of me.

You see, it's the child inside I will always be.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C)2000

Author's Comments

I guess I want to point out that none of us ever
really "grows up". We all remain that teenager we
were at heart, no matter what the calendar reads.
You learn not to do some things, and that others
are still good, so you do the things you really
hope, are happy and well understood.

Author	Date Entered/Modified	Views
Daniel A. Stafford	10/4/2000 4:53:07 PM 8/21/2020 12:14:34 AM	850

Author	Email	Web
Daniel A. Stafford	aqmstaffo@mailbnag.com	www.mailbag.com/users/aqmstaffo/index.html

Total Comments: 1

Comments
Janine Daniel	spinnys@hotmail.com	www.spinnys.com	10/4/2000 5:19:31 PM
I was one of those kids who used to wish I could be like you cool people (watching from the outside). Big family, no money, only allowed to wear school uniforms, pouring over the fashions in magazines and on TV. But still... even if reality said no, my imagination kept me up with the "latest fashions" .... *S*

 

As Our Lord Wishes

Author	Date Entered/Modified	Views
Daniel A. Stafford	10/4/2000 7:09:08 AM 9/17/2020 7:44:26 AM	809

As Our Lord Wishes

All my life, all my days,
I am created as the Lord God would have me be.
My creator determined the basics of me.
I try to live my life in the loving way of which he has spoken,
Even though at times I know my heart has been broken.
Forgiveness and kindness are the vitues he teaches,
And we should all rejoice and be happy,
When these are the things our heart reaches.
The cross was born by God himself,
Though Jesus wore a mortal shell.
He did it in love and for love's sake.
Thanks to him, you and I shall not partake,
Of the harsh logic of justice in the end,
Should we give over ourselves to love,
And make our lord and our saviour our best friend.
This world, others hearts, not mine or yours to judge,
Our place is on Earth to learn how to love.
The only one qualified to dictate fates,
Is high up above, past Heaven's gates.
Place no one in ever under your judgemental rule,
Treat them with kindness, acceptance, and love.
These are our tools.

Know your place, and no one else's.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C)2000

Author's Comments

Let no one tell or order another in religious form,
it's your duty to keep your own house.
If you are keeping the morality of another clean,
Let it be through example, of the loving kind.

Author	Date Entered/Modified	Views
Daniel A. Stafford	10/4/2000 7:09:08 AM 9/17/2020 7:44:26 AM	809

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Daniel A. Stafford	aqmstaffo@mailbag.com	www.mailbag.com/users/aqmstaffo/index.html

Total Comments: 1

Comments
Janine Daniel	spinnys@hotmail.com	www.spinnys.com	10/4/2000 5:09:00 PM
I think you know already that I agree with you. I may have different ideas to the next person, but we all meet in the same places in the end.

 

The Price Of A Moment

 

Author	Date Entered/Modified	Views
Daniel A. Stafford	10/3/2000 3:12:56 PM 9/13/2020 3:18:14 PM	867

The Price Of A Moment

Can you find a gentle place in your heart,
Or somewhere that smiles are born?
Where is the land where kindness plays it's part,
And love is happy, never forlorn?

As time sends you on the wild ride,

Can you take a moment and look inside,
See what makes your loved ones smile,
And hold it up with a kind, laughing pride,
Bringing joy into being for just a little while.

That's how to spend your time in style.

Sweetness and light are hard to find,
And there's a price that must be paid,
Tears and a face that's lined,
The cost of a moment when you left your smile behind.

Relax, love, just unwind!

Look in heaven's treasure chest,
Just a sneak peek of curiosity,
See with your own eyes what is the best of the best,
It's love, happiness, and harmony.

Share the wealth.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C)2000


By: Daniel A. Stafford

Author's Comments

I think we pay a tremendous price when we forget what life
is really about, loving those we love well. I know life's
demands can pull us all away at times, but if we all at least
do our best to return to this loving, kind place, maybe
it wouldn't cost quite so much for a moment.

Author	Date Entered/Modified	Views
Daniel A. Stafford	10/3/2000 3:12:56 PM 9/13/2020 3:18:14 PM	867

Author	Email	Web
Daniel A. Stafford	aqmstaffo@mailbag.com	www.mailbag.com/users/aqmstaffo/index.html

Total Comments: 2

Comments
Claud	klugecc@jps.net		10/4/2000 12:34:41 AM
Well said, Dan. Introspection can be a good thing at times. Most of us don't do enough of it.
Janine Daniel	spinnys@hotmail.com	www.spinnys.com	10/4/2000 5:04:44 PM
I agree Dan, a wonderful poem ..... *S* ..... :o) *S* = smile :o) = smile

Misty Time Wine

 

Author	Date Entered/Modified	Views
Daniel A. Stafford	9/22/2000 6:02:24 AM 10/6/2020 10:54:15 AM	692

Misty Time Wine

Sweetheart, you know it's true,
I love you gladly through and through,
My heart swells with pride,
Thinking of the day you'll be my bride.

So glad you came along, think it should be our song.

Hard work, I might do,
Hours and hours to see us through.
As long as you love me, I'll be fine,
But if you ever leave, I'll die on the vine.

I'll cry a bottle of Misty Time Wine.

I've seen sadness in my day,
I've had lovers go away.
I've lost family and friends too,
But I pray I never lose you.

No, that particular sadness just won't do.

I see happiness coming my way,
When you tell me you're here to stay.
Sweetheart, by God's design,
You are my definition of mighty fine.

It's time to put away the Misty Time Wine.

Old teardrops from afar,
Now there's dust upon the jar.
Memories quite distilled,
But it's with you I'm really thrilled.

I might revisit younger days in my mind.

They say you never forget what you leave behind,
But in the end you'll find,
That in the depths of time,
It's all just Misty Time Wine.

Because I'm yours, and you're mine,

There's dust on the bottle, of Misty Time Wine.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C)2000

Author's Comments

This is dedicated to my sweet Saren, who has changed my life
so much for the better. She is my wellspring of hope and love.

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Comments
Janine Daniel	spinnys@hotmail.com	https://spinnys.blogspot.com/	9/30/2000 2:40:04 PM
Another wonderful one for the love of your life. A beautiful poem Dan.

Sweetheart Beach: Two

 

Author	Date Entered/Modified	Views
Daniel A. Stafford	9/20/2000 5:44:49 AM 10/10/2020 11:59:37 PM	1071

Sweetheart Beach II

Sweetheart Beach II:

The Assumption:

All eyes upon us, waiting for our words.
You can just feel the questions waiting.
The room is silent as our words are awaited.
The plain facts are what come first.
Everything must be looked at, changes made with care.
Caution, a need for the team to pull together.
We depend on these people as much as they depend on us,
And ALL of us depend on Sweetheart Beach Hotel.
If Sweetheart's broke, so are we.
To get across that we need them, that the worry is not needed.
Get used to changes, you'll do some things differently.
Get used to sameness, some of what you did was great.
We'll be here beside you, pitching in everywhere,
Trying to learn the normal scent of the very air,
Making this thing a go,
Sweetheart Beach party on a long term roll.
The smiles grace the French glass and Sun,
Once they all learn that we're going to give it a run.
The long tables clear, faces moving out,
White cloth draping, chandelier rainbows reflected about.
Head out on the beach, a moment to relax,
Breath in the salty air, we put away the axe.
It's time to learn how to walk on water and run on sand.

Smiling off into the waves.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C)2000

Author's Comments

A wish for a good start off on the right footing
with the hotel staff, let them know they
are considered a part of the team. And we
intend to be, too.

Author	Date Entered/Modified	Views
Daniel A. Stafford	9/20/2000 5:44:49 AM 10/10/2020 11:59:37 PM	1071

Author	Email	Web
Daniel A. Stafford	aqmstaffo@mailbag.com	www.mailbag.com/users/aqmstaffo/index.html

Total Comments: 1

Comments
Janine Daniel	https://spinnys.blogspot.com/		9/21/2000 2:52:59 PM
I'm looking forward to reading part three. This's as good as reading a novel. Chapter by chapter written in verse. Quite brilliant really...*S*

Sweetheart Beach: One

 

Author	Date Entered/Modified	Views
Daniel A. Stafford	9/19/2000 4:28:18 AM 10/4/2020 4:39:56 AM	726

Sweetheart Beach 1

Sweetheart Beach

Part I: Arrival In Paradise

The place looked a bit haunted, but it would surely do.
There was plenty to whitewash, a lot of work to go through.
The wooden planks on the hardwood porch,
Grand columned entry facing east, inviting.
Red carpet dream for a new pair,
Awaiting grace for a coming affair.
The couple both stopped and stared, late in the day,
At the place where their dreams just might come shining through.
An old hotel, in need of repair,
Marina slips with waves lapping, a sultry air.
The palm fronds wave hello.
Looking out through the french doors glass,
Dining room over beach, elegant hard wood and crystal class.
Down on the sands with a drink in the setting Sun,
The fire popping and crackling,
An ocean blue bed for Apollo's Chariot to rest upon.
Slow, curling breakers, constant rhythmic background.
The first of stars appears, here a wish may be found.
The new owners take in a slice of heaven before they retire,
Relaxing in darkness now descended, next to the fire.
Soon there will be a million little things to do,
Clean up here, there, fix that, too.
Meet with the staff, encourage the team,
Cook up more details of the marketing scheme.
Live a bit of life and make love in between.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C)2000

By: Daniel A. Stafford

Author's Comments

A recurring fantasy of mine, living a bit in my poetry.
I'd like to see how it developes.

Author	Date Entered/Modified	Views
Daniel A. Stafford	9/19/2000 4:28:18 AM 10/4/2020 4:39:56 AM	726

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Daniel A. Stafford	aqmstaffo@mailbag.com	www.mailbag.com/users/aqmstaffo/index.html

Total Comments: 1

Comments
Janine Daniel	spinnys@hotmail.com	www.spinnys.com	9/21/2000 2:46:42 PM
I'd like to see how it developes too. A wonderful poem.

Cruisin' Plainfield

 

Author	Date Entered/Modified	Views
Daniel A. Stafford	7/27/2000 8:58:30 PM 10/12/2020 9:16:28 AM	949

Cruisin' Plainfield

Cruisin' Plainfield:

Plainfield, Illinois. A small town at the edge of a giant, reaching for identity.
Slightly slower place in time, small town feeling like home, I find, for me.
Takes me back through the years, nostalgic feelings holding free reign.
Summer in another time, another world restored from which I cannot abstain.

Bass rumble of American V8 Iron, gleaming chrome and the smoothest colors.

A thousand trips to yesterday rumble down her streets on Cruise Night,
Every Tuesday from May to September we remember by sight.
Camaros, GTO's, Mustangs, Thunderbirds, Impalas, Shoeboxes.
Everything from a Model T to this year's PT Cruiser carry foxes.

Every man's teenage dreams reverberate or roar down the main drag.

Lockport Street houses hundreds ogling over two hundred beautiful rides.
Gleaming, screaming, throbbing steel chariots doing graceful glides.
We love them and admire them and adore them truly,
When you put your foot in it and sound a bit unruly.

My son and I both stand together and cheer wide-eyed.

White headlights, red blue-dotted taillights, dreamy reds, whites and blues.
Candy Apple Red Fury, Gleaming Pearl White Electra 225 I'd choose.
Aqua Teal '66 Convertible GTO in immaculate white trim,
Champagne '57 Chevy, Stingray Corvettes, white-wall and chrome rim.

The Model T owner gave my boy a seat, then hand cranked the T.

Old Lou rides off into the sunset in a 1914 vintage machine.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford
(C)2000

Author	Date Entered/Modified	Views
Daniel A. Stafford	7/27/2000 8:58:30 PM 10/12/2020 9:16:28 AM	949

Author	Email	Web
Daniel A. Stafford	aqmstaffo@mailbag.com	http://www.mailbag.com/users/aqmstaffo/index.html

Total Comments: 1

Comments
Janine Daniel	spinnys@hotmail.com	www.spinnys.com	7/29/2000 9:24:13 AM
Dan, I felt like I was standing next to you and your son, cheering loudly too. I've seen something like this and can remember how exciting it was. I loved the sound of all those engines as they went passed.

Sunrise, Surprise, Sundown, Go Round

 

Author Date Entered/Modified Views Daniel A. Stafford 5/6/2000 10:19:39 PM 10/19/2020 1:22:09 AM 954 Sunrise, Surprise, Sundown, Go Round It lights up......my world. It lights up......our world. It lights up......in orange. It lights up......in gold. It lights up......wake up. It lights up......make up. It lights up......we give. It lights up......we live. It lights up......we love. It goes down....we frown. It goes down....it's dark. It goes down....the stars. It goes down....see Mars. It goes down....lights on. It goes down....another day gone. It goes around....and comes around. Twinkle in the twilight.....start, finish, return. Our world changes in a flash.....forever. AquarianM By: Daniel A. Stafford (C) 05/06/2000 Author's Comments Sunrise and sunset are two times a day that fascinate me. We are between moments then. Our world changes in a flash.....forever. Noted 06/14/2001: This poem is pending publication over the winter in the International Library of Poetry's next anthology. ISBN number will be added here later. Author Date Entered/Modified Views Daniel A. Stafford 5/6/2000 10:19:39 PM 10/19/2020 1:22:09 AM 954 Author Email Web Daniel A. Stafford aqmstaffo@mailbag.com www.mailbag.com/users/aqmstaffo/index.html Total Comments: 3 Comments Larry O. Stafford lostaffo@inwave.com 5/8/2000 7:04:07 PM I like it. Both times are good times of the day. Myself I think that sunset is the best time of the day. It's like the lord is painting a beautiful picture each and every day to lighten our lives. Janine Daniel spinnys@hotmail.com www.spinnys.com 10/1/2000 4:41:34 AM A very artisiticly written poem Dan. Well done. Sue Allie bttfly9@yahoo.com www.geocities.com/bttfly9/ 12/8/2000 2:18:31 PM I notice the beauty of the sunrise on my way to the bus stop. Filled with reds, purples, oranges, etc. On the way home I notice the the clouds catching the rays of the last sun. Beautiful poem to remind me of these images!

The Word Tornado:

 

Author Date Entered/Modified Views Daniel A. Stafford 1/30/2002 2:11:38 PM 10/6/2020 10:22:42 AM 534 The Word Tornado: I spun a poem, You spun a poem, They spun a poem, That spun a new poem outta me, That spun a new poem outta you, That they spun a new poem from, And the ideas all bunch up, Waiting to drop into the funnel, That the Muses hold over, Each poets head, Laughing, At the pretty word tornado, As it whirls through the idea garden, Throwing up all those leaves and branches. AquarianM By: Daniel A. Stafford (C) 01/30/2002 Author's Comments Inspired by my friend Art's poem, That was inspired by mine, That was inspired by another poet's.... Author Date Entered/Modified Views Daniel A. Stafford 1/30/2002 2:11:38 PM 10/6/2020 10:22:42 AM 534 Author Email Web Daniel A. Stafford aqmstaffo@mailbag.com www.mailbag.com/users/aqmstaffo/index.html Total Comments: 2 Comments Debbie Hunt hu6nt@yahoo.com.au 1/30/2002 11:08:46 PM Oh WOW, Dan! Just fantastic!! Ahhhh, the Word Tornado...kinda' like an inspirational merry-go-round!!! *smile* As it whirls through the idea garden, Throwing up all those leaves and branches. Well put, Dan!!! Debbie ART PAUL SCHLOSSER artpaul@mailcity.com http://www.geocities.com/artpaulhomepage/1 1/31/2002 7:55:20 PM I just had to comment on this that not only this is kind of funny but I suppose your right that everything is coming from everything else

Sanctuary...

Sanctuary... 

The old poetry boards,

Deep in the Old Country of the web,

Small cybertowns I have known for decades,

A few residents still left,

The ghost towns of the mind,

These places where only we web poets go,

Smell the flowers,

Coffee with the neighbors,

Share soul and heart,

Leave the dogged citadels of social media,

I can breathe here.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford

© 10/18/2020

The Daydream Deficit..

The Daydream Deficit..

We were told,

Children,

To focus on the here-and-now,

Sit up! Pay attention!

It was punished and ridiculed into us,

Practicality enforced with a social baseball bat,

We got it so well,

Dreamless to our bones.

Is it any wonder then,

We drug the daydreams out of our children,

Run a chronic national sleep deficit,

Rule our exhausted world with an iron fist?

Was the human need to dream and imagine so dangerous,

That we abhor it to the point of our own collapse?

It's known by psychologists,

Humans laugh at things that cause them social tension.

Is this why it's so hysterical,

When I dream of a world built on love?

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford

(C) 08/29/2010

Poetry In The Dark...

Poetry In The Dark...

I may never win a Nobel prize,

Yet I write.

In the moments just before sleep,

The clock being shaved,

The morning with it's green paper chains,

Art is a "quaint notion","

Here is this goal-oriented gilded cage,

Yet I write.

Torn between technology and artistry,

One fuels my intellect and wallet,

Yet poetry keeps the soul alive,

Like rice and ramen in a famine,

Perhaps some days red beans and rice,

I write.

The Ferenghi would fear our engines of profit,

The warp in our drive,

This haven of capital,

Bastion of corporate motivation,

The place that craves every click,

Yet I write.

With love,

I bid we automatons,

Good night.

AquarianM

By: Daniel A. Stafford

© 10/16/2020