Looking at the Face

Looking at the face by Jeff Darling

Saturday, August 13, 2011

10:24 PM

Looking at the face in the street

Reflected in the eyes of his soul

Challenge raised to all he meets

Love within has gone so cold

And sometimes he is just so afraid

Just get away from all the talk

About how there's a better way

Worry about your own walk

I take care of my pay

Injustice speech or empty tirade

Even when you think it is a choice

Be like you I'd be just fine

I know this hollow voice

The price to pay is what is mine

You leave smiling over what you saved

When tomorrow's paper comes

Man you're sure you know that name

Another body in the dump

Can't be him 'cause that one's saved

Come and see the brand new grave

Two Stars

Two Stars

Sunday, August 07, 2011, by Jeff Darling

1:42 PM

My grandma came from New York

She gave us little flags and

Told us they were new

Two more stars, for two new states

I knew, heard on the radio

It meant our country took more

People into our freedom

Under our wings, into our arms

It was like that then

To the arctic, right next to Russia

Halfway across the ocean and

Almost to Japan was now America

I went by my dad to the tavern

Memorial Day smelled like beer and smokes

The old veterans Sung patriotic songs

How America was so grand now

And people there would have a better life

America was like that then

Sarge cried a little and said don't tell

He gave me a dime and

Said to remember the great day

Sarge was a hero in the Great war

If he was bent and old

He was still a great man

If Sarge said these places being states

Was a great thing, I knew it was

We were like that then

Arbor

Arbor

Friday, August 05, 2011
11:02 AM By Jeff Darling

I wander to a spot I like
I face East and you are there
I look at you in wonder,
my heart and mind are sure I've missed something
What are you to have such a long view?
Time for you is shaped differently
When axe bites long you feel
A Scrutiny macro temporal
As ages pass and races come and go
A sense of you lies within
A sense of sentience
A self short in two dimensions
Long in time and stature
Leaving of self, pieces of scars
Misshapen by human standards
Yet glorious in its light
Eyes that see a hundred extra colors
From thousands of perspectives
In their joy and pain
We knew you
In Africa you gave us life
You still do provider and friend
A radical sentience revealed
Not all have forgotten
In a modern gift of air we can breathe

Moon Watchin'

Moon Watchin'

Thursday, August 04, 2011
2:18 PM

I got an old telescope
Set it up in the back yard
Actually found all the parts
It was so hot and sticky outside
Which brings the fireflies in droves
Sweat dripping and laughing at ourselves
Silliness reigned and we laughed so loud
Mosquitoes till the spray came out, adding to
Damp smell of coming rain and grill smoke

We took turns looking through the scope
Every one , each in turn was awestruck
We've seen the moon all our lives
Seen it in the sky, TV, magazines, internet
Hi-res hi-def, 20 megapixel, kodachrome
The wonder of seeing it live, as a place
On a summer night hot and sticky
Took our breath and made us stop
And soak in the wonder of it
The kids won't forget it

I Hear a Sound 22

I Hear a Sound22, by Jeff Darling


Waiting for a bus,

I think I hear a sound like people talking

a distant echo spoken to some ghost.

Through diesel cigarette stench

I seek the source, trying to hear clearly

And see to my left a seated hunchback

A mumbling young man head hung down

Eyes uplifted childlike, seeking

redemption from some specter, He alone sees

Why so wretched in his penance?

He plaintively entreats for redemption

In lingua schizophrenia, explaining with reluctance to his ghost,

The shade demanding penance, which he gives.

As I see him buckle under to the lash


As discovery steals his comfort, his ghost moves,

But the man simply sighs, and makes it clear

He understands, my intent foretells no harm

Yet he apprehends to end his mournful chant.

My own mouth opens to ask, who? Why?

Or maybe offer comfort or acceptance.

Though its stricture pains, he won’t give up the chase

Of his ritual. I see a flicker of a twitch

At the corner of his mouth, Caught up, I mime

The sad man's chorus and I realize

That for once he sees a familiar face.

History of Sylvan stand

Sylvan
Tuesday, July 12, 2011
12:12 PM

Sultry sylvan sanctuary
Lily pads give witness to
Stillness otherworldly steaming
Scent of sea and swamp wafting

While a billion tiny hunters
Live short lives within the stew
Belching out from acrid water
Alchemy which nourishes the new

Vapors gathered silent as a
Blanket snatch away my breath
Ancient stands of floating Mangroves
Broken into tiny grains by time

While the detritus of ages
Floating on the mire of pitch
Squishes through my rooted toes
Life restored by Vulcan’s ancient kiss

Pond's surface mirror-like
Amplifies the slightest twitch
Froggy tongue reaching outward
Stick around for dinner, side eyes

Two small rings roll out
Across the water's face
A certain sign of dinner
To the stalker that awaits

The predator who lives
By eyes that see the slip
One twitch can give it all away
Motions slight and quiet sing its dirge

Drama here unfolds at the
Tip of Earth’s dynamic pyramid
Where ends the cycle begun
With the soul-searing majesty

Of the raw radiation and a
Million megatons of instant death
Rendered in a micro second
To the face of planet as light

Raging destruction meets the
Boundary of biosphere
Till atmosphere’s magnetosphere
Has filtered the deadliest particulate

Rays started from its heart
Five billion years of rage battle to battle
Each with power to destroy or resurrect
Fusion and Destruction of Sol’s very soul

Till joined together as a noble
Casting his photon as a gift
Creating all the life of Home
With the nurture of the Sun. Amen