Tag: poetslifeforme

Poem – Patio (Draft) by Galen Skye

Poem – Patio (Draft) by Galen Skye

Patio

You build it together.
A new outdoor space for
Entertaining, play and peace.
You build it with sweat, aching backs
Even a little bit of blood and a few
Tears of Frustration.

When it is done, though, there is
Accomplishment,
Satisfaction,
and Exhaustion.
But that is not even the beginning.
As it turns out, you created so much more.


It is an oasis on a troubled day.
A fortress, ready with turrets and
A lookout post.
It is a spacecraft, hovering over
Strange people and worlds.
It is no longer a layer of bricks.
It is a time machine taking you to
Fascinating places filled with
Adventures just waiting to be explored.

This place, this simple patio, becomes
Solace and hope during a complicated time.
And as the smile on your son’s face brightens
With imagination, it lights up your world.

Then, when the storms roll in and
We scramble to put things away, and
The wind kicks up,
A patio it becomes again,
Until another day, when imagination reigns and
The possibilities take flight.

G. S. Skye

9 June 2020 (Draft)

Patio, a poem by Galen S. Skye
Draft (2019) – I am not ready

Draft (2019) – I am not ready

I am not ready.

Today when my child came home from school I turned off the TV and
The unending reports of scared children after yet another shooting.
He curled up on my lap and didn’t notice the sudden lack of news.
Instead, he hugged me tight and told me of his day.

He hugged me tight, not knowing how much I needed
His small yet strong little arms wrapped up in mine
His wonderful, animated face full of love and excitement.
He talked of future days in school
And I grasped that thread of hope and clung to it;
I clung so tight that I hugged him again and thought not for the
First time—

I am not ready.

I am not prepared to talk to this precious child
About the realities of life.
I am not yet able to formulate the words that
Someday will fray the edges of the safe blanket
He has wrapped around him, that school is safe.
School should be safe, dammit.
It should be a place where children can learn and grow and
Take flight with learning and imagination.
School should be safe.

I am not ready.
So I hugged him back.

14 November 2019

Draft (2019) – My Brother is many things

Draft (2019) – My Brother is many things

My brother is many things:
Charming, annoying, honorable, chivalrous
Funny, playful, stubborn, oh so stubborn and
Incredibly smart— of mouth and brain.
Having a friend isn’t quite the same as having a sibling.
There’s just something more and different and if you’re lucky
A very special bond that defies all.
Having a brother, well, that’s a strange and wonderful thing.
It’s like having a best friend, champion and nemesis
All carefully wrapped up in a
Neat package of strength, tempered with a touch of vulnerability—
Accented with a playful punch,
Strong hugs, a smirk and a knowing look
That can say more in a second than a lifetime of words.
Having a brother isn’t always a choice.
Finding your brother as an adult when you never even knew you
Needed him…

Is a gift.

4 November 2019

Draft (2019) – Snuggles on a Saturday

Draft (2019) – Snuggles on a Saturday

Snuggles on a Saturday morning are the best.
Warm, sweet child molded into my side,
A contented smile on his face
As we watch a favorite movie
And I drink my tea.
The occasional hug,
The cheerful laugh,
And mischievous grin
As slowly, ever so slowly he shifts
Watching me closely from beneath his fringe.
Wow! Such cold feet!

2 Nov 2019

Galen Skye - Poetry - Snuggles on a Saturday
Draft (2019) – Trick or Treat

Draft (2019) – Trick or Treat

Winter is early this year.
The wet, cold snow blows
Fiercely as we wander from
House to house—
Weather only curbs our urchins.
Their quest for joy fulfilled.
Yet, as the slush streaks sideways in
Strong winds that could lift
An Umbrella and whisk us away,
They laugh and vie for the next piece.
Until we near the house…
Suddenly the promise of warmth,
Hot chocolate, cupcakes and toys
Appeals more.
Trick or treat?!

1 Nov 2019

Poem (draft) – I really thought I wouldn’t say that.

Poem (draft) – I really thought I wouldn’t say that.

I really thought I wouldn’t say that.
The catch phrase of this and that
The common tropes of parenthood-
All those things our parents said
Seemed so far off from who I thought
That I would become.

It’s Generational, I thought.
It wasn’t going to me
Who would reutter those phrases.
I wasn’t just meant to be
That “kind” of parent.

My grandma laughed and ran her hand across my hair.
“It’s okay sweetie, someday you’ll understand.
Someday you’ll recognize the truth.”
That it isn’t just generational.
It’s all generations

We all thought it
And found when our time came
We’re surprised and somewhat,
I find, comforted, because
Yes, you really will find yourself saying “that”.

10 October 2019

Poem: Words (draft, 2006/2018)

Poem: Words (draft, 2006/2018)

Words are such a strange thing.
What is in a word that gives it
Such power…

How can one such thing hold
The meaning of a kiss
In its outreaching hand, just a breath
From your lips, and yet,
In the next moment, be once again
A simple word
Filled with innocent effervescence.

We wield words with abandon;
Tossing them about here and there
Giving them freely with little
Acknowledgement or even awareness of the

Consequences,

Repercussions,

Power,

That they can wield.

And as always more words to follow.

Want
Wield
Wait
Watch
Will
Wander
Wonder
Wish

Words.

G. S. Skye, 2006/2018

I fly, I exist (draft)

I fly, I exist (draft)

I am here
Though you may not notice
Above the trees I soar
High within the clouds
Looking down upon the earth.            
And so I guard you.

The wind lifts my wings,
I Coast down, my eyes closing
As I sniff the warm spring air.
Tilting my head, I come to land
My hooves clicking softly on the stone path.            
Though you can not see me.

This glade is my home
Far beyond the veil of knowing
Into a land where my like reside
Mystic in our presence
Forgotten with time            
And yet we both, in anticipation, wait.

Folding my wings along my back
I walk along the steams edge.
My silken mane falls forward
As I bend to drink;
Crystalline liquid there to quench my thirst.            
And for a moment, I exist.

With a great bellow
I toss my head back and rear up.
Muscles stretch as I announce myself
To the world, knowing none could hear me
Yet wishing, just once, for some imagination.            
And then, suddenly she, too, was there.

A wee thing.
Golden hair falling to waist
Smiling as she look directly at me.
Seeing me.
And enjoying the majesty of it.            
A wee thing, smiling.

She clapped her hands for me.
Laughter floated toward me
Upon the breeze, spurning me forward
With great pride I raced on the wind
Wings spread as it lifted me up.            
I danced in the sky as she watched me fly.
 

I am here
And so I guard you,
Though you can not see me,
And yet we both, in anticipation, wait.
And for a moment, I exist.
And then, suddenly, she, too, was there;
A wee thing, smiling.            

I danced in the sky as she watched me fly

Everything has a beginning

Everything has a beginning

Everyone has a beginning.
On the tree of life we start
As too green leaves
Bright, yet fragile
Sprouting upon wobbly limbs,
Reaching for the sun in the sky.

It is a beginning.

With spring, comes strength.
Buds burst forward.
We are steadier,
As the winds bend us,
Rain revives us, and
The early years melt away.

It is the middle.

Blossoms slowly open
And the days warm—
So do we—Friendships mature
And the paths we’ve taken,
Grow more complex and take many turns.
Roads branch out in too many directions.

The sun beats down upon us and we bask in the freedom of it.

When fall comes, the
Roots of your past conjoin with each other.
They enables and entrap, and
As pages of life fall to the ground,
A multi-colored array of experiences
Scatter to the wind.

This is the wisdom bought and paid for with life.

Winter settles in and wraps
Around you as your roods grow
More and more tangles together
Until by spring again,
They have become one mass,
Showing lifetime of information,
Decisions made and choices taken.

In the beginning, spring
Brought us together with
The subtle beauty of a Cherry tree
From beneath the snow:
Its blooms peeking up
Begging to grow,
And the lifecycle continues
Until the last petal falls.

 

G Skye 2016/2017

 

 

I’ll miss you when you’re gone. (Draft)

I’ll miss you when you’re gone. (Draft)

The same dance we’ve always had
In the morning and before going to bed
Each step mapping out a certain choice;
As the time draws near I lose my voice.

Where will we be months from now?
When you have found your new niche, tell me how
To form a different sort of connection, still.
Can you feel the gentle bending of my will?

Will you miss me when you’re gone?
Shall the season pass till it has been too long?
And when memory serves us bittersweet,
Will you fall away leaving us so very incomplete?

And yet, as the path of fate looms before me
I know the changes will bring to me,
Chances I might have never known.
But I still wonder, will you miss me when you’re gone?

 

2001