Our Orbit
We awake
In the evening of our sleep
And this twilight is bright
But confused in muddled mind
My soul’s eyes look far
To capture visions scope
Tattered sheaves of yesterday
Stacked in hungry bind
We breathe in hesitant vapours
And withdraw out of our chamber
Sucking like a newborn baby
between hope and fear so bottled
a first day, once again
we prepare to run and leap
rejoicing in noon’s blaring shadows
and a hundred voices so mottled
a dexterity of yes’s and no’s
many voices of unwelcome
learning patience and forgiveness
and laughing at futility
‘Tis of human life we weep?
Our pulses in trying steady
Seeking midnight’s peace
it’s loneliness and purity
what is our moon?
So bright and sharp in crescent
Is it a foreign lens, far above
Or our heart of teasing face
The stars are attracted to this realm
And when the beauty of our earthly day is gone
We see this constellation
Our neighbourhood of grace
The clouds are sneaky passengers
An entrance so benign
Imposing chances of grey or black
for our thunderous minds of wary
but can we reflect this parade
of light and dark so blatant?
With our imaginations freedom
To see the day contrary
An urgent shift or cautious turn
Our eyes widening in planet
Imposing a why not theory
With modest laughter in its hold
There are no perils of night and day
And no name given to the time
We ponder this spinning miracle
Being neither young or old
DeaBeePea 11-21-18
Transparency
She looketh over the skin
So onioned of time
Brown and flimsy
Are the words as such?
Is it still strong and deep?
The hard breaths still heard
Or just a written page
And thus has said not much
The blush still within
A silent chuckle can be heard
As suddenly tired eyes
Hesitate in useless time
No reason to weep
Just listen to the music
As it flutters the lonely page
A weak and hopeless rhyme
Those melodies of the heart
Do not sing but wail
Is it anger or love?
So invisible is the flare
Touching this note
Makes the fingers shake
A fear to crumble
What heart is left to share
Her feeble murmur
Not a cry but awestruck mutter
Amazed at this utter confusion
Echoes; they refuse to calm
Is this a treasure?
Born from another
Someone lost or gone
of unrecognizable palm
Those prayers unanswered
And now a lonely visage
An old world now meaningless
or inconvenient in its smile
will an interruption be
A place to rescue the heart
Coming now or soon
On the clock’s unrelenting dial
A decision has been made
She speaks; Take him into me
Resolve my inner quake
Disregard my current play
Life begins anew
I pang in bittersweet lust
Is this a desperate plunge
Or a forever freedom’s flay?
DeaBeePea 11-15-18
Voices
Whose is the speech?
Seeping from the purest blanket
Spinning from the whitest bark
As the northern wind does cry
Is it the voice of me
A poet of the sun
Happy for this wintry blast
This joyous birth not die
Or is the other penman
Strong and silent in doom
Shivering in his heart
Dumb in mortal fear
These gales strike us
In unplanned time
From the darkest hills
And valleys clear
Memories of duality
In duration, soul over soul
Patting down sodden leaves
waiting to rise from past
Promises intertwined
Hence; No warning is needed
The hours retrieve truth
Forever it to last
We cannot deny
This duality
That we see as comical
Or confusing in its verse
Memories beset in love
Or unexpected hate
Articulated by our passion
Carried in our slapping purse
Tapping our skin
That echoes our aging refrain
Separating us from ourselves
In solitary song
The dissonance is loud
The ricochet is uncontrolled
Branch to branch, ear to ear
Activating a piper’s throng
I take recourse
And make diary of this enigma
Answering questions unanswerable
Is it I that now speak?
The path I take now
Not so worn, I am alarmed
An impatient guest am I
Holding back frustration’s screak
DeaBeePea 11-15-18
After reading some poetry by the wonderful Alice Meynell I was inspired to write this.
Our Place
The world has outlived all its passion,
Or am I blasé
I fear this inanity
In superfluous play
But certainly, this is not so!
My heart has not drowned
The sun shines for me
Amidst the darkest clay
keeping the water seeping
through my questioning soul
men ploughing in hope
women unpuppeting their steps
Is life such a farce
A comedy of errors?
Or just a stumble from toes
Calloused in schlep
Vanity and pride
Great loves and faiths
Down-trodden and torn
In a humility’s defeat
But this meekness can conquer
Seeking new mates
Whether of romance
Or labours discrete
Is Romeo’s flippant emotion
Paled in our memory?
Juliet’s devotion so spoiled
Growing dim in our obsolescence
We grab for that cup of gold
Boasting of our favours
Awaiting reward
Over our neighbours fence
We laugh over our ale
And wine is poured
Celebrating survival
And its teasing story
We clamour not
For deaths signal
Our awareness lingers
In current glory
Our over-taught brains
Not loosening with time
Unless we perplex
With imagination’s words
So we twist and turn
And love in maddening passion
This is human goodness
In thundering herds
DeaBeePea 11-13-18
Early
A November snow is falling
The sky apart in morn
Small planets
Kissing the earth in greeting
There is no wind
Is this a gentle hello?
Peace and wonder floating
Sadness now is fleeting
No seasons neglected
This is a circle of life
The mountains looking down
Their shadow a generous cast
The eyes of roots looking up
At this white dust so pure
Filling the crevices of doubt
The buried fears amassed
The moon and sun are brothers
Spectators of this cover
Tenderness creeping over grass
As scattered light does search
This blanket a protective bed
No sound of angry voice
Have the flocks strayed away
And left this lonely birch?
When snow slid from an overweighted leaf
The spirit of a bird of past
These fluffy wings
Whirring with its winter feathers
Frozen nests await
A season's softening song
As a horizon howl is heard
The dogs in teasing blether
Silhouettes with melody
Singing heaven’s promise
Thankful for this miracle’s blessing
Coats to warm their hope
The thatching of the white
As flickering fires in flame
Blend with evening stories
As dreams and prayers elope
The breath is seen rising
To skies of changing colour
Disappearing into future’s fate
The daughter of infinite love
The month still lingers
As stillness plays in hours
Knowing of coming storms
Watched over by the dove
DeaBeePea 11-9-18
My Echo
there is no silence
and I am not even sure if I spoke
the echo keeps coming
in its chameleon cloak
the format of a dream
in the sunlight of day
teasing me with irony
as if I'm innocent prey
the message not clear
pounding me with tears
taunting my conscience
with embellished fears
there follows a laughter
from out of the blue
a nervous nagging
confusing my cue
is this a warning
of future's path
or guilt of the past
and uncured wrath?
the voice is clear
less garbled than my words
spraying its spectrum
like a chorus of birds
is it an invasion
or an offering of Paradise
showing me light
with horizon's advice
I will never be free
of this God-given call
as it scatters its leaves
in effortless fall
when the dream floats by
in blackness' robe
it conjures morning
in priceless probe
I speak and write
awaiting the rocks
to answer my questions
with infinite clocks
pulse for pulse, breath for breath
you are invited
blowing your wise wind
my relevance now sighted
I accept you now
in maturity's place
tolerant and humble
in my limited grace
DeaBeePea 11-8-18
They are Home
tattered tennis balls
and mounds of stuffing
squeals and shrieks
the puppies are roughing
squeaky toys destroyed
artificial flowers hewn
streaks of vomit
and paper strewn
noses in air
demanding their share
when I am cooking
to enjoy my fare
let everything fall
to the floor I say
they'll clean it up
in their licking play
they cover the bed
no room for my feet
in snoring imposition
they hog my sheets
they know when it's dinner
they have an inner alarm
so I have to be ready
in my teeth-clenching swarm
time for a walk
with leashes all tangled
with scooper in hand
on this asphalt wrangle
there are times of peace
and they are relished
it's quite a story
no need to embellish
DeaBeePea 11-8-18
Autumn
the leaves are falling
and so are my pants
with the musical trees
I shall perform a dance
DeaBeePea 11-6-18
Silence
the house is asleep
yet vulnerability cries
darkness bursting its skin
the blackness never dies
invisible clouds with eyes
dreaded winds look down
on murmuring trees
the roof is yet a clown
between the walls is hope
a warm and softened floor
the hearth is smiling peacefully
and the lamp looks through the door
where is the anger?
from outside in the competing stars
or simmering in our sleep
the headboard's prisoning bars
is this tricky peacefulness a warning?
the shingles slowly peeling
and a crumbling chimney
to send my heart kneeling
whose tracks are on my planks?
the gentle angel's feet
or a sinister toe of fate
with fingers of coldest heat
Is love open to the pane?
that refuses to shut its glass
sadness lurking so fragile
in cautious fearful chasse
faith waning in the blanket
as dark as evening's glare
dreams rescuing the doubt
with imagination's flaming flare
when morning comes, it is wisdom
gathered in restless sleep
as we go to conquer life
guarded by what we reap
DeaBeePea 11-6-18
Bereft
what a cool word
it sounds so sophisticated
and what it means
depicts various scenes
lacking money
that's no big deal
I'm very comfortable
with a means so conformable
void of humour
now that would be death
no self-deprication
now that would be a horrid vacation
lacking booze
another tragedy
I'd be spittin' cotton
and feel totally rotten
without someone to love
yes, that would be sad
but I'd always have me
someone called DeaBeePea
without shelter
well, that would be a fix
how to survive in the cold
on an open windy wold
not having a library
to ponder every day
I'd have to watch TV
what hell that would be
no food the most delectable
I'd be chewing on my thoughts
I'd lose a little weight
but what would be my fate?
without the capacity to write
these silly little poems
I'd have to keep it all inside
my mind would be my bide
DeaBeePea 11-5-18
Collage
a donut craving
is not worth saving
they're not as good as rolls
and they're full of holes
television can be addictive
and the endings are predictive
but when the golden oldies are on
I might stay up till dawn
I try to draw
but I think it's that last straw
I can't draw a square
or a rotten pear
asparagus is unusual
it is very strange fuel
it makes my urine green
and the smell is obscene
it don't mean a thing
if it ain't got that swing
it's a jitterbug crave
that my ancestors gave
elections come and go
but I'm in the throe
it never gets better
it's a political fetter
what is sleep?
but an unconscious leap
into a frightening nightmare
of a rejecting affair
if I am dead
I'm in rather good stead
my mind is clear
and I'm full of good cheer
they're giving beer funny names
and making unique claims
strange additives and hops
let's pull out the mops
it is quiet out now
I think of pigeons and cows
of silent mooing
and undetectable cooing
my mind is fractured
ideas no longer captured
it could be quitting time
as I run out of rhyme
So I bid you good night
from my writer's plight
sweet dreams my friends
as my stories end
DeaBeePea 11-5-18
Midterm Blues
don't you leave me
forever my sanity
as the winds that blow
are carrying vanity
give me hope
and cancel my fears
and hope that votes
accompany the jeers
he says it's a big one
well, that is for certain
the chords are minor
through that idiotic curtain
representing who
in global warmings doubters
and populism
and its ignorant flouters
political news
manipulated by fox
and a den of wolves
in their antiquated box
there could be a standoff
to tighten the strings
leaving room for revolution
from outside the rings
some blockheads ahead
by a few percentage points
with two days to go
before they anoint
many people ask
does it matter
but I can assure you
there is meaning to the clatter
I understand cynicism
it has been well earned
but we must bury the asshole
as my stomach churns
things are looking up
at least a bit
but I don't those multitudes
that prefer the nits
I'm not holding my breath
but I'll keep one eye
on Tuesday's results
preparing for sigh
it's a referendum of sorts
of what is the comfort zone
the dumbing of America
and that piggish drone
DeaBeePea 11-4-18
Poetic Political Commentary That Makes Little Sense... Therefore Appropriate
voting and polls and bullshit goals
piles of crap and numerous saps
freedom of speech discounted in breach
north or south, it's all the same mouth
below there is Trump as dumb as a stump
and above is Ford and his sinister hoard
blaming the past and evasively fast
screwing us all without even a call
global warming and its threatening storming
being refuted, the message muted
the truth is feared as people are steered
by populist lies and partisan cries
why don't we dare to support those who care
a humanist theme that casts a warm beam
if we believe what is false and that vocal waltz
why not believe what is true and avoid our stew?
we are basically the same in our funny game
trying to survive amidst our strive
we vary in ability and emotional stability
but what the hell we've heard the knell
I'm shaking my head as I lie in bed
sick of the babble an unruly scrabble
but the music must be faced as we are all disgraced
revolution is in the books, untender hooks
DeaBeePea 11-4-18
Nonsense II
adding a dash oh what a splash
apron streaks from my splattering dekes
dodging burns and crumbly ferns
beside me the tart in uninhibited fart
poisonous gas is of our mass
poorly dispensed with little expense
grease and oil preventing the spoil
hollandaise sauce and a salad tossed
my nerves not grated so cheesily stated
in a parmesan tone and meddlesome bones
filleted humour in a mercury rumour
don't think of that you hungry cat
dill weed and wine and tomats from the vine
dirty pots and seasoned thoughts
cleaning after in a mindful rafter
the party if first with my gluttonous thirst
so intense this recreational fence
a darting lunge of gastronomical plunge
advancing with vigour in unstoppable rigour
where's my drink, did it fall in the sink?
cookbooks and Google no need to be frugal
if Cognac is needed, it shall be heeded
which plate which fork? how done is the pork
more questions than answers, holding my slicing lancers
my reputation burnt, and I wish it weren't
but I cover my ass with gourmet class
I have desserted my post and ignored the roast
cheers my friend, this is the end
DeaBeePea 11-5-18
Nonsense
Drippity mud oh what a thud
All that crap, turn on the tap
Endless ravioli and all the guacamole
Wine is flowing and faces glowing
Party on and last till dawn
Yell and scream in your tasteless dream
Get off Facebook before you look
Too many friends as the laughing ends
Leaves in a pile raking in style
Pissing in the woods because I could
Walking dogs, spying on ground hogs
Losing perspective with little objective
Not knowing the time or the right rhyme
Sour grapes and unplayable tapes
Those halcyon days of hairy plays
Sexual naivete confidence at bay
Tomorrow is Friday what can I say
It means very little in my foolish spittle
The internet is down, now I’m a clown
What’s the score, I don’t care anymore
A reason to write in laughable plight
Thinking I’m great on weak ice I skate
I think he’s a jerk, he’s no Capt. Kirk
Pointed ears and meaningless tears
I might die someday as I play in the hay
Heaven or hell I’m ringing that bell
I don’t really give a shit in this bottomless pit
Goodbye for now you silly cow
DeaBeePea 11-1-18
Magic Heart (a feminist essay)
so many
have that magic heart
that disposes of thought
fearing the part
of, hate and love
embroiled in a stew
but conscience calls
and expectations are due
that nurturing hair
brushed with care
and the dress of white
avoiding the glare
listening to sorry
with a dutiful ear
and thinking of how
to fix this uncheer
having the mind
this envelope ignored
not wanting to unseal
for its insecurity stored
but the heart speaks opposed
listening to this tirade
specific in its pitifulness
temporarily forbade
remembering that motto
of being behind
every great man
the credit unsigned
yet not taking advantage
of the underestimate
of a women's power
and her passionate spate
looking in the mirror
do you see the wise?
or the aging mistake
of misjudgments guise
time is eternal
but our pardon is not
and the banners must wave
to refresh the rot
the players must be interviewed
to qualify their propose
checked at the door
for their egotistical clothes
it cannot be a takeover
but a negotiated truce
an unnatural challenge
for those on the loose
DeaBeePea 10-30-18
NO
don't take this for an answer
the bullies must have their day
you've been raised on bullshit
and not been allowed to play
the rules have been rigged
the mongers are ruling
and capitalism as grown
to diamond banjos dueling
nothing will pass
it will be forever
unless the ship is overturned
as we sink the Endeavor
patience no virtue
and diplomacy not cautious
to rise in courage
in a creative raucous
be naked voices
with tears of passion
and strip to reality
throwing clothes that refashion
silencing those stupid voices
that want belief
to be an admiration of heroes
whose lies bring grief
history tells us
that if we let go
the handle might be hidden
and lost from its glow
throw if you must
but let the stones be truth
and stolid persistence
with the loyalty of Ruth
please take over
from our gutless leaders
and be monarchs of the heart
to help our bleeders
the fight is worth it
the means is justified
as to live in this world
is a questionable ride
and the joy of battle
can be so rewarding
the cheers and hugs
our hope now boarding
a new ship called FAIRNESS
with its planks secure
docking in each port
with your arms in moor
DeaBeePea 10-29-18
Hope and Prayer
So steadfast
This unrelenting feather
Light and so wispy
But bold in stormy weather
A day and night shadow
Clinging to my vine
Stringy branches of thought
Looking for a smile to dine
Like a little bird
I try to keep it warm
Thwarting all my doubts and fears
Where deadly threats do swarm
My steps are often unsteady
And the sidewalk’s cracks do grow
as I reach too hard to catch
the plume in cynical throe
quiet in belief and prayer
not a bandwagon’s greedy rider
but waiting with an honest nod
living dreams as soft as eider
no matter, where I go
I sense a magnetic charm
Attaching me to barbules
Immunized from harm
I ask, what is my calamus?
My brain or foolish heart
Hearing haunting lyrics
As I sing of choices carte
The power within me is tainted
Unless I take a channel
That joins the bouncing breeze
For my humanity to empanel
My laughter at times is evil
Succumbing to empty disdain
So with caution I do impart
To ease the pina’s pain
As I clasp my hands together
Forgiveness is not wanted
But forgiving all the others
To praise with love unvaunted
As I ponder in distasteful anger
I feel this lilting caress
Removing the cumbersome load
A warm and comforting undress
It is immortal
And as old as Father Time
And will be my downy friend
Throughout my enlightening climb
DeaBeePea 10-27-18
TODAY
If you don’t think I am thinking
You are wrong
Not only that
I am pondering
Crying and laughing
Worrying
Thinking about death
And living a lot longer
My kids
Are they happy?
Is the world
Coming to an end?
Then I realize
We don’t know very much
But I do know that
I am drinking coffee
And writing something
And looking at the dogs
And wondering
What movie I will watch
I love old movies
Black and white
Not like life
I have things to do
I don’t know why I am doing them
But they are fun
I recommend it
If it isn’t fun
Don’t do it
Good advice
Don’t you think?
I am also thinking about furniture
Why it is chosen
And if it should be rearranged
And sliding doors
And electronic kitchen appliances
People who I haven’t seen
For a while
So if you don’t think
I am busy
Just look at my mind
Very busy
Like a collection of rubble
Swept by a tornado
Where will I land?
Besides Document 1 of Microsoft Word
I hope in someone’s heart
That would be nice
Oh… love
Now that’s something I haven’t
Thought about yet today
Well maybe I have
Like
Every second
Cool
DeaBeePea 1-22-19
Orange Moon
travelling to titian
with my juice-splashed eyes
through the white branches
of birch tree skies
the stars all gathered
awestruck in glare
against the blanket
a shiny black snare
the silence is still
I dare not quiver
though my body trembles
in winter's shiver
but I feel not cold
my body seems warm
suspended in space
in a dream-like swarm
I look down at my feet
they are still on the ground
as I look up again
affirming what I found
this apricot giant
has taken me over
with a bittersweet song
and smelling burnt clover
a fireside chat
with gods of the night
reclaiming belief
in miracle's might
I will rest my head
in its spinning ream
of magical illusions
in a tangerine dream
DeaBeePea 1-21-19
KNOWING
This is not exactly what I mean
Because of knowledge
And suspect attachments
And thoughts wayward path
Yes, the sun is the sun
But our labels suspicious
Do I intend more closely
With my perception of shine
This awkwardness
It shall be the protagonist
Defining itself
In its contaminated bath
But there is levity
Self-effacing stumbles
Slapstick noises splashing
Where the waters dine
The world and I
In a brotherly feud
Respect and love
But so doubtful and sour
Searching for whereness
As I become an eye
Finding my bearings
And the earth’s wobbly compass
Do we ever meet
This spacious void and I
The first move in question
As the wind starts to scour
My vulnerability beckoning
As my heart opens wide
And my mind is rattled
In its armourless rumpus
What is this literary sword
Filling in for fear?
I suppose this admittance
Is honesty’s mouth
With this maturity, comers a draw
No winner arrives
But a contented sweat
Trickles down my chest
There is advice
From those of inclination
And I absorb this voice
In my wisdom’s drouth
Motivation found
In immortality’s cry
A perilous journey
To this unreachable quest
DeaBeePea 1-20-19
Existence
There is pain
In my centre
Circling and hurting
Going here and there
Exaggerated anger so diverting
The sun is shining, today
In the vortex
Solid and secure
Nothing to do with me
I only have its heat to endure
A constellation
Of sparking agony
Is there no door?
All my nerve-endings tined
Pointing me to my infinite floor
is there no affair
Of the heart or the mind
Am I dissolving
Or just avoiding
With the paramount project of resolving
first, is my location inside
Outside
Nowhere
Irritations focal point inside
Outside
Nowhere
I am sensitized
Feeling sorry for myself
This comic creation, as advertised
I cannot count myself
Numbers don’t do it
A chance to rejoice
True or false
Not really multiple choice
gaining sophistication
Rather funny I say
Taking the stabbing to a new place
I am the false quantity
Injecting my selfish poison defaced
I see myself
Neither consonant or vowel
Hard to pronounce
Maybe a metaphor
Taking on humanity’s denounce
there seems to be
A draw in battle
No victory for my joy
Or neither in my ache
Playing with my life-long toy
Dancing girl’s in pigtails
Or dastardly men of noir
Is there a pattern
To I see everything
From benevolent leader to dingy slattern
Each fascination takes hold
And the fever sweats
Recycled into energy
Yes, I have strength
Overcoming fates elegy
crawling out this window
In search of myself
My clothes growing tight
In a nervous swelling
As my eyes expand their sight
DeaBeePea 1-17-19
POETRY
I, too, dislike it, but where is this discontent
A knowledge of my mortality
Vocabulary so limited
Or without genuine sadness
But there is discovery
As I play this instrument
As, with a hole in my head
And hands waving about
Is my hair rising
Or palms asweat
Looking over these lines
Plagiarism of previous madness
organization so lacking
But does this matter
In allowing me some liberty
And the freedom of my doubt
interpretation beyond meaning
From those who simply are
Not sure of where they come
Not knowing what they read
some say I am holding a bat
Others, brushing a feather
Others still; making love
Where is my foolish heart
the continuous chain
From laugh to cry
Is an anecdote: child to adult
And back again, my guilt is fed
there comes before my eyes
A collage of recurrence
Without previous caution
In the hope that I do part
am I a critic
Angry because I do not understand
Lazy and pompous
Thinking I am first
Oh, I am plagiarism’s friend
I should continually laugh
But my poem is me
And that should be the road
Thou friend and gallery
Of my words so long
Do not expect to learn
Or satisfy your peculiar thirst
Just ponder for a moment
Then say “This is what he wrote”
It is simply that
My past forever towed
DeaBeePea 1-17-19
The Pit
So bottomless in its conceit
Unwilling to banish
A master of remembrance
As we dress in our denial
We divide our light
And define by light and dark
But the contours meet
Each and every day of breath
Cubes and cylinders
Mock us in shape
As our mindful dictionary
Speaks in gloating style
And the science of our brain
Daring us in hypothesis
Tells us of burial
And ideas of death
But there is no clock
And the hands are bird-legs
The tick-tock is a song
A hymn of our despair
The films and books
Give us a performance of truth
And our shovels pause
Enamoured in love
And this black hole so far
And deep in its intrusion
Ignored by our faith
In the human flair
The odours seep
Through the soil of our doubt
And we begin to ask questions
With our tattered gloves
Our blood filters through
This layered mess
A history of hate
Mingling with lust
Even when I don’t see the fire
The flames are felt
The crackle is my hope
For earthy rebirth
This growing muddle
In words we write
Are a poetic mud
In playful robust
Forgetting is our demise
Understanding our mucilage
Standing over this miscellany
With our arms in girth
DeaBeePea 1-8-19
Reversal
My days
Are they dreams
And in my slumber
My life ensues
Am I afloat
My pain merely the wind
My vision a cloud
Breath a fire
Is the unimagined
All that I know
My body motionless
Paying sinful dues
The sun shines on me
But only in death
My voice is slander
Of history’s dire
My blood is not mine
An ancient river
my skin a blanket
keeping dreams within
the playful spirit
that splashes in the dark
with ruffled pillow
and sheets of sweat
and when I wake
my drowsiness lives
and I am confirmed
in my cynical grin
but through the night
unrestrained is my joy
miracles flourish
like a magical toy
where am I tangled
is it when I’m acting
on my conforming stage
with a director of slight
those hours of rest
and freedom of mind
are wild and free
as my quiet heart beats
do I know of grief and pleasure
Yes… under the ceiling of stars
Knowing all that is between
Where life has its smite
Is this a mysterious secret
Or am I bedded with all
And sharing my passions
On the lifeless streets
DeaBeePea 1-8-19
