tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-24970373135736018982024-03-21T08:53:51.776-04:00Only The Lonely HeartsI am the master of my fate,
I am the captain of my soul.Nicholashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10068554759939893170noreply@blogger.comBlogger19125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2497037313573601898.post-82820668283246387252019-09-21T22:27:00.000-04:002019-09-21T22:27:00.152-04:00LEAVESBright tulips wilt and start to fade<br />
as flocks embark on their parade<br />
<br />
and trees undress and start to yawn<br />
and suddenly the summer's gone.<br />
<br />
The leaves that once danced overhead<br />
fill up the barrow by the shed<br />
<br />
and winter wind will start to blow<br />
and coat the barren boughs with snow.<br />
<br />
One day the geese will travel north,<br />
the sun will bring back all its warmth,<br />
<br />
returning flowers to the glen —<br />
and leaves will dance above again!Nicholashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10068554759939893170noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2497037313573601898.post-56087245121366058382019-05-31T23:05:00.000-04:002019-06-04T22:39:02.740-04:00POURWhat shall I write about
this dreary eve?<br />
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I look down at my desk and
then in kind</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
the pen and paper also stare
at me.</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I try to think but nothing
comes to mind.</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Outside I hear the sound of
pouring rain</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
inviting me to come and soak
my feet.</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
If nothing else, distraction
from the pain.</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I grab my coat and head out
to the street.</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I'm still as aimless as
before, and yet,</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
although I know not where I
will arrive,</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
and even though my feet are
cold and wet</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I can't remember feeling
this alive.</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
I think perhaps I'll write
about the rain</div>
<div align="LEFT" style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
and how it makes a dead
thing live again.</div>
Nicholashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10068554759939893170noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2497037313573601898.post-7611269450283168312019-05-29T00:07:00.000-04:002019-05-31T22:58:56.731-04:00GULLI noticed a bird at the edge of the dock,<br />
alone and apart from the rest of its flock.<br />
The gull I was watching then took to the sky<br />
and masked by the trees it soon flew out of view.<br />
Then wishing that I too were able to fly<br />
I sat for a bit, just a moment or two,<br />
<div>
then slowly stood up and continued my walk.</div>
Nicholashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10068554759939893170noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2497037313573601898.post-68481277337124952472019-05-14T21:45:00.000-04:002019-05-29T00:13:13.526-04:00GOLDThere is a saying often told<br />
that all that glitters is not gold.<br />
But love is worth far more than gold<br />
and crave it all, both young and old.<br />
Unseen by human eye and ear,<br />
it must be fed or disappear<br />
and shared with those whome we hold dear<br />
— lest all its warmth grow cold.Nicholashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10068554759939893170noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2497037313573601898.post-66011141297663059452018-12-01T09:32:00.000-05:002019-06-22T00:38:32.000-04:00FIRST SNOWFALL<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Upon awakening today<br />
my eyes were filled with great delight.<br />
They met the most divine display —<br />
a world painted milky white.<br />
<br />
It was a cozy quilt of snow<br />
which piled up in banks head high<br />
and still more came. It fell so slow<br />
there seemed a limitless supply.<br />
<br />
A couple hurried down the lane,<br />
a squirrel darted up a tree,<br />
and what before had seemed mundane<br />
I gazed at now adoringly.Nicholashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10068554759939893170noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2497037313573601898.post-88072977089199489132018-09-30T20:43:00.002-04:002019-06-04T23:46:11.908-04:00ACHEIt isn't something you can buy<br />
down at the local lumber store<br />
and it’s not something that you’ll find<br />
stashed deep inside a dresser drawer.<br />
<br />
Its power knows no earthly bounds<br />
and spans all time and space,<br />
emits no light or heat or sound<br />
but found in every place.<br />
<br />
And sometimes you can feel it,<br />
like the joy when lovers kiss,<br />
or when a pang consumes your heart<br />
for loved ones that you miss.<br />
<br />
Love is the greatest gift, it’s true,<br />
and yet the greatest curse.<br />
Of all the pain I've suffered through<br />
a heartache is the worst.Nicholashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10068554759939893170noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2497037313573601898.post-47200430364728457762018-03-15T22:32:00.002-04:002019-06-22T00:34:28.431-04:00THE LOOKOUTThe old tin rooster on the shed<br />
waits patiently to sing its song. <br />
The trees are quiet, wind is dead.<br />
Soon dawn will break. It won’t be long.<br />
<br />
<div>
The air is calm, the sky is red,<br />
but perched up high for all to see <br />
without a wink of sleep our friend<br />
maintains his outpost rigidly.<br />
<br />
A breeze begins to cross the plain.<br />
It starts up gently, then it grows.<br />
The stoic, weathered weathervane<br />
without a warning stirs and crows.</div>
Nicholashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10068554759939893170noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2497037313573601898.post-40465757207745330102017-10-13T09:17:00.000-04:002019-06-22T00:33:36.487-04:00AUTUMN<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyUsDr8caTLbMigUZ7AVyNAHBWDQLNzxldebTgGFGSIoa4Es1hSUGLVA7-qPlC2WI4COPxvE61KYX4fL0ORefTUYfZMu_BAY0wVAVtV6d5dvafS96P7s-7rw4j-Y_jLEIeNmebRx3Vxis/s1600/fall+painting.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1194" data-original-width="1600" height="236" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyUsDr8caTLbMigUZ7AVyNAHBWDQLNzxldebTgGFGSIoa4Es1hSUGLVA7-qPlC2WI4COPxvE61KYX4fL0ORefTUYfZMu_BAY0wVAVtV6d5dvafS96P7s-7rw4j-Y_jLEIeNmebRx3Vxis/s320/fall+painting.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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The darkened forest is so bare<br />
and fallen leaves are everywhere.<br />
Wind whistles through the lonely trees.<br />
They twist and turn with graceful ease.<br />
An aging man walks slowly there<br />
amid the sharp and frigid air.<br />
He slows his gait, then stops his stroll.<br />
On him the years have had their toll.<br />
He taps his cane against the ground.<br />
Old Man Autumn’s come around.Nicholashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10068554759939893170noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2497037313573601898.post-50914518438633336772017-06-03T15:42:00.000-04:002019-06-22T00:31:18.104-04:00THE COWBOYThe cowboy lights a cigarette<br />
and deep in silent thought<br />
he wonders how much sleep he'll get,<br />
the sun and soil so hot.<br />
<br />
The parched earth is ablaze.<br />
The stench of muck is sweet.<br />
The oxen blindly stare and graze<br />
amid the scorching heat.<br />
<br />
The horses stomp their angry feet,<br />
the cowboy wipes his sweat,<br />
he hears the cattle's heavy beat<br />
and puffs his cigarette.<br />
<br />
It's evening now.<br />
The coyotes howl.<br />
The sun begins to set.<br />
The cowboy sighs and takes his lamp<br />
and lights another cigarette.Nicholashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10068554759939893170noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2497037313573601898.post-52889383214391374892017-05-13T18:35:00.000-04:002018-09-19T20:17:05.043-04:00SHOESI think I’d rather be a shoe<br />
and find another shoe to woo.<br />
The reason should be clear enough:<br />
although like people shoes will scuff<br />
it’s very seldom that I see<br />
a single shoe that's lonely.Nicholashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10068554759939893170noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2497037313573601898.post-3297111851337377832017-05-08T23:03:00.001-04:002019-06-22T00:29:46.453-04:00OAK TREEBeneath the massive old oak tree<br />
they carved their names for all to see.<br />
The lovers very soon were wed<br />
and underneath this tree they led<br />
a peaceful and untroubled life.<br />
He was her husband, she his wife.<br />
Time went by and they grew old.<br />
Through cruel winter's bitter cold<br />
the giant oak will safely keep<br />
and calmly watch them while they sleep.Nicholashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10068554759939893170noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2497037313573601898.post-89630970225716621672016-03-15T21:53:00.000-04:002019-06-04T22:25:58.353-04:00IDES OF MARCH<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGa3aAcJDTLlxK8XVGdGszlWhImCsEXp1Mn0LZSrwDvSl57npVwxY1JrOmHJBMoqKihyphenhyphenyebCyXlNsYv508e8rgB2D-yU2ciygDTid4A1Sb09y7c8WgM1ZN79Drs3XCRAQmfSXn1BfdzFo/s1600/Caesar+blog.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="222" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGa3aAcJDTLlxK8XVGdGszlWhImCsEXp1Mn0LZSrwDvSl57npVwxY1JrOmHJBMoqKihyphenhyphenyebCyXlNsYv508e8rgB2D-yU2ciygDTid4A1Sb09y7c8WgM1ZN79Drs3XCRAQmfSXn1BfdzFo/s400/Caesar+blog.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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On marble steps stained deep and dark<br />
the senate slew Rome’s patriarch,<br />
stabbed as if within a play<br />
beneath the theater’s arch.<br />
<div>
Oh, rue the day! “Et tu, Brute?"<br />
<div>
<div>
Beware the Ides of March!</div>
</div>
</div>
Nicholashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10068554759939893170noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2497037313573601898.post-38260422677863276882011-09-16T21:24:00.000-04:002019-06-22T08:24:06.988-04:00BALLGAME<div class="mbl notesBlogText clearfix">
It was the bottom of the ninth and neither side was winning.<br />
Each member of the pent-up crowd was anxious for the inning.<br />
The batter smiled smugly as he stepped up to the plate;<br />
his eyes were fierce and focused and his fingers burned with hate.<br />
He doffed his dusty baseball hat and gripped his trusty bat,<br />
and then with poise and confidence he cleared his throat and spat.<br />
The pitcher's brow was sweaty as he dug into the mound<br />
and then he threw a slider which then sank and struck the ground.<br />
Then came the harsh resounding cry which ruled it a ball;<br />
let there be no mistaking that it deeply thrilled us all.<br />
The seasoned pitcher threw the next ball just above the plate<br />
and number seven swung so mightily – but just too late.<br />
But as each patron held their breath and perched upon their seat<br />
there came the crack of bat and ball; the thud of running feet!<br />
A heartfelt cheer then shook the stands as Seven ran to first.<br />
Two hundred hands applauded and our foes began to curse.<br />
He bolted on towards second, then thundered on to third<br />
and nearly wiped out passing it but he was not deterred.<br />
The cannonball of leather he had smashed began to fall<br />
and finally it smacked into the sand across the wall.<br />
With a final score of five to four the home run won the game.<br />
The winning team went wild – and the conquered bowed in shame.</div>
Nicholashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10068554759939893170noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2497037313573601898.post-20103090548238298272011-08-11T21:30:00.003-04:002019-06-04T22:26:04.140-04:00DRIFTWOODAlong the shore I paced and stood<br />
among the varying debris<br />
and found a piece of driftwood<br />
which I took back home with me.<br />
<br />
I looked out to the silky sea<br />
to clear my thoughts and eyes<br />
and finally it struck me<br />
as a boat in a disguise. <br />
<br />
At once I sat to whittle<br />
and slowly I began<br />
to craft a tiny vessel<br />
from the block within my hand.<br />
<br />
I stained the carving crimson<br />
and I made a tiny oar.<br />
Its maiden voyage has begun<br />
with a bathtub to explore.Nicholashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10068554759939893170noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2497037313573601898.post-15939558931625710492011-08-07T20:09:00.002-04:002019-05-29T00:14:44.411-04:00FARMHOUSEThe green felt table, strewn with cards,<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
stands in a stuffy room.</div>
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A light mist coats the darkened yards</div>
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– a layer of perfume.</div>
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The gentlemen are on the porch</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
weaving yarns and smoking.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
Their sweethearts talk and clean the pots</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
and plot the next day’s cooking.</div>
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The clock strikes ten. The womenfolk</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
can hear the talk and smell the smoke.</div>
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
It has been a bad year for corn.</div>
Nicholashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10068554759939893170noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2497037313573601898.post-30393474692706513082011-08-01T23:03:00.000-04:002018-10-06T08:04:08.396-04:00SCARLife’s a flattened Good Year tire.<br />
It's a Jewish woman restrained by wire.<br />
<br />
It's a black man hanged up high –<br />
a silhouette against the sky.<br />
<br />
It's the passion of a love that burned<br />
although that love was not returned.<br />
<br />
It's addiction to escapes.<br />
It's a box of old keepsakes.<br />
<br />
A mother's star.<br />
Her son's at war.<br />
<br />
Life is a scar.Nicholashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10068554759939893170noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2497037313573601898.post-70745501292696088852011-07-30T21:07:00.002-04:002019-06-20T00:19:18.300-04:00THE WOODSMANThe old axe rang true<br />
with each solid thud.<br />
It neatly sank through<br />
the blocks of thick wood.<br />
<br />
The woodsman stood up,<br />
then slowly bent down.<br />
His arms made a cup<br />
and gathered it 'round.<br />
<br />
He loaded his cart<br />
and went on his way<br />
with a weight in his heart<br />
that he had to obey.Nicholashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10068554759939893170noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2497037313573601898.post-24481931332336928012011-07-27T22:51:00.000-04:002018-09-24T19:12:41.015-04:00DENIMOn a rusty gate I waited for our eyes perchance to meet<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
but she fancied that she was alone amid the gilded wheat.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
So I simply stood adoring as she donned a daisy crown</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
and I looked upon her walking in her regal, denim gown.</div>
Nicholashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10068554759939893170noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2497037313573601898.post-7505593477872003302011-07-25T10:10:00.001-04:002018-09-19T20:28:50.075-04:00THE THINKERWeary and alone I stand<br />
<div>
evoking tender moments passed,<br />
deep in thought and head in hand.</div>
<div>
<br />
Forever loving thoughts withstand<br />
the waves of torment and hold fast.<br />
Weary and alone I stand<br />
<br />
recalling beaches, softly tanned,<br />
on which the lovers kissed the last.<br />
Deep in thought and head in hand<br />
<br />
I clear my thoughts as blown like sand.<br />
The final tide has gone. Alas!<br />
Weary and alone I stand,<br />
<br />
looking o’er the lonely strand<br />
and on toward seas of colored glass,<br />
deep in thought and head in hand.<br />
<br />
For lovers never understand<br />
that nothing’s here that’s here to last.<br />
Weary and alone I stand –<br />
deep in thought and head in hand.</div>
Nicholashttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10068554759939893170noreply@blogger.com