Читать книгу Flashbacks From a Roller Coaster Ride - Austen Barnes - Страница 2

THE WARM, WISTFUL, AND THE COOL

HALO

The lamp

lights dimly on

the cobblestones

at the end of the street,

halo'd by the yellow aura

of English fog.

As I wait, late,

for the empty tramcar

footsteps reverberate -

impatient, feminine, firm, but -

the high heels

ring unsteadily on the curved stones

as the pale glow of her light raincoat

shows her form -

in highlights and shadows,

and her soft features

are visible for but an instant

as she hurries, preoccupied,

through the damp chill.

And the street reverts

to silence as her footsteps fade

and the fog swirls behind her

around the lonely street lamp

glowing misty bright,

speckling murky stars

on the wet cobblestones.

And I ponder who she might be,

and what is she like,

but I hope whoever she is

she is nice to know

as she walks her straight walk

and leaves her wake in the fog

as it closes, curling its yellow halo

around the lamp at the end of the street

and I wonder, wistfully

if she will catch my late tramcar

at the next stop

LOVE

I loved you much

and you loved me

and we together

built the bridges

for the children

to the stars

It took its toll-

the endless toil

the hours beyond

our time were spent

to bend their sights

to better goals

No limits set-

our planet yet

begins its trip

along its destined track

of fire to glory

and extinction

For minds beget

the brief success-

the triumph of

the right to guess

the flashes of the future

for their burst of time

Their minds were set;

the facts and form were given;

degrees begot and they were let

unleashed with power

to spare, and flew,

for we were there

Your love was deep

for all our keep

and when you left, we wept-

your death killed each

of us in part-

our part of you

And now, in retrospect

your love profound, pragmatic

was loyal, sound, and true-

you pulled us through-

but love was always there for you

in deepest passion

ICE MAIDEN

Ice,-

tough,

hard,

cold.

The shrouded shell

of atrophied personality;

the grim facade

of sometime riches fallen in a well.

Ice,-

pure,

crystal,

compacted.

Frozen tears

of disappointments' bout

transparent yet obdurate;

immune to pick and probe

of sharpened wit or warmth without.

Ice,-

beware,

bewildering

barrier

of spirits flight;

filterer of thought

and dampener of psyche,

your blanket dims

the brightest light.

Ice,-

tasteless,

blue,

bleak.

Pour weak from warmth within;

turn fast to water

ere the dance be done,

before the heart cools

and the pulse is thin.

Accursed ice,-

bedamned,

bedevilled,

begone!

Your time is come

for still the world is young

and nature's kind

for springs' begun.

DONUTS

Gleaming, glazed, precise,

the immaculate rows of cultured donuts

reflect the crystal glow

of polished glass and lustrous stainless steel -

the perfected prism; the proven franchise magic mix -

converging all to inevitable success.

The formula defines all aspects

of the structured layers of support -

to move the short lived product

from mix to oven to shelf to tray, and hand to mouth

for those who choose to pause and think, drink,

and be merry for a brief instant, with a donut -

in hurried breaks from fast lanes of our time.

Almond eyed, sometimes the dragon-cat; the mini hostess,

brusque and bold, and cold, snatches money from the proffered hand

as quick as claw, the pretty gaze ablaze

in discontent as sterile as the the stainless,

and foreign to the color tones of warmth;

contrasting nurtured smell of welcome coffee;

a slipping cleft of hidden lifequake yet to come.

By the window sit the couple; elderly worn,

gazing wistfully at the bustling street,

sipping on their memories of slower times

and elegance of manners past;

numbed still from jobless misery, war, and peace precarious -

yet grateful of the giant leap of time

that war itself is near passe; as obsolete as chivalry.

How little worry now, they thought;

if only we can handle waste and wanton hate;

and not get sick with ails, but even those dissolve

- likely after we are gone.

Gently they rise, poised for re-entry together,

mutually aware, an aura of support

in a non supportive capsule world of detached freedom.

She gathers the cups and plates onto the tray and he carries them,

slowly, carefully to the counter; gently pushing them toward the mini-hostess -

they both smiled, and made their pained way to the door, opened it,

as the noise rushed in; they enter the outside bravely,

quickly, like jumping into a high wave, and strike out strongly,

back in the swim with mayhem.

The almond eyes follow, fill, and soften in admiration;

the tense mini frame loosens, and becomes a girl.

The rosy afterglow of the couple pervades,

briefly all is in harmony with the warm welcoming, immaculate,

brown tone tiled floor, of the coffee and donut store.

WIDOWER

We danced our dance so well,

we did the most we could

with time we had, and more;

by effort gained and some by chance

around the crystal we would go

like phantoms in a magic box,

twirling friendly shapes on those around

dancing to the tunes we knew so well,

calling them in sequence as we sent

our future music on its merry

way to us, to fuel our feelings

for the dances yet to come.

We danced our dance so well

we did the best we dare

with what was there, and more

until the dance was done -

we had our fun

and we had won our future,

tickets for the tunes to come,

but stern the piper called

and played no more-

said one of us must leave the floor

forever, and you were taken, crying

to a more important place

in a coach I couldn't follow.

I was left to find another-

waiting lonely in a corner

seeking solace and a partner

for the final taste of music

when the piper plays awhile.

We will joyously go round

to the old familiar sound,

and making most of what we have, and even more;

we will hear you clap in time

as you echo in our minds-

the gentle ghost who left the dance,

but lit my way before,

and when the piper stops again

and points his finger to the door

I will leave my partner true

and dance again with you just as before

until she joins us too

and we'll welcome her anew

and form a threesome, dancing on

to find new music to delight

as we dance forward to the light

making most of what we have, and even more.

YOUNG HEARTS

Simmer, boil, bubble

the heart beats

its song of summer

while youth prevails

as beaus and seasons pass,

and thread

their chequered net of life

about the great impasse

then

a flash

the line is fast

the instant clasp of hearts attuned

and all before is past

when in the looking glass

beside myself - is you.

The quest is done

the heart is won and life has just begun

when two can be as one.