Tag Archives: senses

Rhythmic Senses

Rhythmic Senses

 

You always see her in a crowd
blending like a graveled stone
at farthest table the room’s allowed
where she sits and gazes….all alone
in stares transfixed by muted thoughts
that have strained her every will
and she appears as frozen…. in a trance-like state
her fragile look….is still.

She’s not with friends nor is she without,
but she ‘appears’ to us as one
abandoned, lost,  leaving much in doubt,
and you wonder the thoughts, she’s spun.
But appearance is often a misleading clue
and by the face, it’s hard to tell
if she’s deep in thought about something good
or about something gone to……well….

You see the pattern that’s often seen
if left to the imagination,
looking at an Amy, Rosita or Charlene
or any in the same situation?
A telltale story our minds devise
to help us pass…. our time
and the dreams we create in the interlude
serve as  rhythms in our life’s….rhyme.

© copyright 2013 t. j. gargano

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When the Senses Start to Wane

When the Senses Start to Wane

When the days were long; when the years were short,
when the blood would try to rise
there’d be ideas in the mind…. to sort
when the days were long; when the years were short.
Things to accomplish; things to report
to show you ‘had it’…. in their eyes
when the days were long; when the years were short
when the blood would try to rise.

When the final autumn years arrive
and the senses start to wane
the change in mode is now survive
when the final autumn years arrive.
And when nature’s onslaught is….to deprive
you must meet ‘her’ head-on…. and restrain
when the final autumn years arrive
and the senses start to wane.

© copyright 2013  t. j. gargano

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Mind Block

As  a writer, or a creationist, you know the painstaking times of mental ‘drought’ all too well.  Times when you passionately want to compose while, at the same time, the mind…..well, doesn’t.  It will not cooperate with your brain or heart and abstains from ‘firing’ any impulses to lend a helping hand.  Mental block stands steadfast against your creativity, encouraging impatience to rear its ugly head and frustrate you into a stupor.  Whew!

Well, anyway, that’s sort of what this poem’s about….me learning to wait….have a little patience….stop binding up the computer with my rapid clicking…..controlling the shock treatment.

Have a great day and thanks for stopping by.

 

Mind Block

I sit at my table; I’m ready, at will.
The paper is blank. The pencil lays still
The desk light is hot; it glares overhead
down on the paper not yet laden with lead
of thoughts that have evaded the mind.

The eyes gaze around, entranced, without thought
in stare at a cobweb and the fly that it’s caught
a story of life…. for things that all live
between those that ‘take;’ and between those that ‘give’
to the circle that encompasses…. us, all.

Everything’s still….but no pin, to drop.
Would the pencil wake up if it happened to plop
off the desk on its journey…. down to the floor?
And picking it up, would it have something in store
to take from the mind and write down?

I wait for the senses…. to gather it…. all in
and formulate a plan to make my heart grin
and convince my mind to get back to work
and bring out the thoughts that lazily lurk
in the cobwebs of my imagination.

We take for granted, so much, all around
especially our senses, our defining crown
that sees what is bad and smells what is wrong
lets us hear what we say…. as we travel along
coloring each moment of our life.

That’s it!  That’s it!  I’ve something to write.
The ‘block’ has been busted; I now see the light.
Everything’s clear; I just had to wait
Impatience has fled; the mind’s in reflate
and the ‘firings’ of the imagination…are free!

© copyright 2013  t. j. gargano

 

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