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The mine was deep, the vein was old, with small reward for lives mundane and paltry means, their quests for gold, that though begun, would not sustain. The quarry crept into their crux, addiction to the dust and ore, to sulphur smell and sludge in flux, and chance to land the one great score. Though sometimes riches were declared, enough to spur the seekers on, most often mines would cease impaired before new veins were hit upon. Now corporations own the lands, consider which to mine or close, machines to work the rocky bands, the riches kept by CEO's. 
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I have to say I'm quite annoyed, As life flies true and fast, That selfish thoughts can still avoid My conscious mind's repast. Can't humor stay and sit awhile? Won't dreams slow down and play? It's fun things I'd rewind and file If only to convey That life's ambition, lost or won, Is meaningless to me, But music, laughter would be fun And last eternally. 
Quiet shouts idyllic in this pastoral scene- though blackbirds pierce the perfect calm with echoed intermissions, forgiven. Am I awake, I ask the mare as she feeds, or am I hungering for quiet? 
Sculptures rowdy, whimsical amusing, engaging, inviting exotic, outrageous, provocative, eccentric compelling, alluring, riveting imaginative, inspired Art 
thoughts. fear. confusion. anger. planning. confrontation. reaction. sadness. doubt. guilt. home. safe. thoughts. observing. smitten. confusion. longing. together. love. planning. dining. proposal. acceptance. joy. anxiety. promise. sharing. home. spouse. contentment. thoughts. commuting. arriving. occupation. issue. confusion. concentration. stress. collaboration. completion. satisfying. accolades. modesty. promotion. pride. home. sharing. love. joy. thoughts... 
The zephyr is seen, not in its own form or guise, but by the mist's spate. 
What would we ever do without your towers? A grace that stands against the cobalt sky. Your silhouette could fascinate for hours, The height and deft of muscle you supply. A beam of gray floats silently above me, Suspended from a ribbon made of steel, From left to right you swing around the birch tree And carefully your gears unwind the reel. While each of levered arms supporting lattice Of trusses and a maze of countless walls, Without your Herculean apparatus, There wouldn't be skyscrapers, cities, malls. My eyes perceive the beauty of your profile, And like the gentle birds that share your name, You rise above the turmoil and the junk pile, With little thought of what the world became. 
Its flash, a brilliant test of nighttime's secrecy, exposes for an instant, then escapes. 
The rigging set and baggage loaded aft,
I point the bow into the western gust, as I, alone, will guide this sailing craft. Horizon beckons, wind provides the thrust, the double masts are leaning slightly port, and cutting through the whitecaps is a must. I think about this trip, a last resort, and watch as shoreline features saunter by, still thankful for my family's support. The rat race slowly fading with a sigh, I pray my practice runs had been enough, and judge the risk of tempests in July. My focus changes as the sea gets rough, I drop the canvas sails to fix the sway, and drift back to the overhanging bluff. Tonight, like others in a placid bay, is healing to my mind and aching back. Secluded, I enjoy a cabernet. As days go by, I keep the boat on track, my destination close, the end is near, I've made up for adventure that I've lacked. My jaunt into the nautical frontier has given me the strength that I'll revere. 
A balanced life, regret and cheer,
such moderation brings good health. While spending months that might appear a balanced life, regret and cheer are borne while focused on career, and energy is lost on wealth. A balanced life, regret and cheer, such moderation brings good health. 
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AuthorJack has published over 350 poems in his career, many with his own photography. He specializes in a view of the commonplace and Americana. Archives
November 2018
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