Excerpts
from Of Things I've Seen
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Of Things I've Seen
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I can't find the words to make a perfect verse
of things I've seen, and places I've been.
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Sights that just might take away your breath;
sounds in the night-- scare you half to death.
Eggs and fawns and baby things;
fish and frogs and things with wings.
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Large mouthed bass fighting the hook,
shuffling armadillo coming for a look;
two bright eyes, on the bump of a log,
the sudden loud crash as some deer take off.
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Water that's tinted with a dye from the trees,
Clear cold water bubbling up from springs;
Fishing with lines each one tied to a stick
tied with white paper to show when fish hit.
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There is no language to tell such a story
about a place, free of stress and worry;
There's no description for a flight of ducks,
or the mating call of a ten point buck.
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You must experience the thrill of the hunt,
and the magical fire from the core of a stump;
natural dams made by cypress knees,
the rattle of palmettos blown in a breeze.
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Majestic hawks circling high above,
quiet serenity that fits like a glove;
mysterious splashings in the dark,
making a tea from willow bark.
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There isn't a way to see through my eyes,
bluebirds and cardinals, and butterflies;
The croak of a 'gator as it prowls the night
with it's eyes all aglow in the beam of a light.
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There's no way to show the birth of a creek,
the thrill of a kingfisher, a fish in its beak;
or the death of that stream as it joins the flow
of a river with banks purely white, as snow.
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Roger
Golden 2/14/99
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Spell For A Witch
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Check it out, lady,
this one's for you.
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Abracadabra, and wallakazoo,
Sprinkle of nightshade, sassafras too;
Magnesium glitter, and seed the flame,
a pair of bowls played nearly the same;
Dust from the wings of majestic moths,
Add a dash of gold powder to the cost;
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Eggs of frog, and juice from toad,
A lock of hair, nail clipping from toe;
A grated feather from peaceful dove,
Cook it all gently, and mix with love;
Pieces of cloth to make a doll,
Soak up the broth, hang from a wall;
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Recite the words that spring to mind,
Stroke the talisman, watch it shine;
Use the energy of aura, power to share,
Stuff the doll with clipping and hair;
Wait for the night of the darkest new moon,
Tap it three times with a wooden spoon;
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An item of power has now come to be,
for good use or bad is yet to be seen;
Just remember that circles all go full around,
And the waves you create could travel the town;
Foresight and care are the keys to the world,
And addiction to power could shatter you, girl.
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Roger Golden
09/14/05
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Crack Test
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Tell yourself just one more time,
A few small hits to ease your mind;
Buy some here, and a little there,
and only when there's money to spare.
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Until one day you can spare your water and gas,
scraping up change and scraping that glass;
Too many days just too hard to face,
Too many nights you partied too late.
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Rent came due, kept on coming,
the easy solution is to start running;
Take the wife, and grab the kids,
head into the night--gone before missed.
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Tell yourself you need your cash,
pretend you don't notice as you slip from the stack;
Hey, you could live in the woods, or a cardboard box,
and who would notice that your girls had no socks?
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How bad do you need it? How high is your price?
Could you give up your family, or give up your life?
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Roger
Golden 7/24/99
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Without
You or I
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The question put
forth "Do all of your poems
occur directed from, or
to, a pronoun, 'I', or 'you'?"
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This one is for you.
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A stream of unknown width
flowed through an unseen glade
before tumbling o'er
the unimaginable rapids.
It soundlessly gurgled along
past several unrecognizable animals,
under an unidentifiable log
and around the shins
of a child that shan't be named.
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What use to tell a story that has no focus?
Without a you, to whom is the story told?
And without me, who does the telling?
Why tell it at all, if no one will hear?
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A stranger experienced an unknown pain
But didn't know it because
there's never any pain
in a two dimensional world.
But had the pain been real to them,
tears of unbidden agony
would have coursed along
that indescribable face
and splattered against
the unseen stones below.
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Roger Golden 12/27/98
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Last
Update: March 3rd, 2008
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©Copyright
2008 Roger All rights
reserved.
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