Ode to Edinburgh

What that I could be a bird
With chance to fly away
And open skies of blue should call
Then here I’d choose to stay.

And gaze upon the ancient rock
Or rise up to the tallest tour
To cast my eyes on greener hills
And call on the first hour

I’d wander streets of stone and narrows
Paved by time and feet
Then travel still to higher hill
To rest upon the seat.

Alas poor I am called to fly
But not on my own wings
And should I stay I’d weary grow
Or rich, immortal things

What wonder rests in kings and queens?
And lad and lass of pride?
I’d tire so of history
And beauty at my side.

And should I stay the songs I hear
Would have to reach an end
To break my woken heart just as
I’ve come to know you friend.

O land, O heart, O pride, O beauty
Come with me I pray
Or grant me wings ever permanent
So that instead I stay.

What is that song I’m hearing?

What is that sound I’m hearing?
Could it be America singing?
But it’s been so long since I’ve heard her note
The banal call of day and day
Every day the same, every day a stagnate image trapped by its own ineffectual possibility
I ran away, I could never look back
But I hear something
Something calling, something crying
I shall drown it out
With notes, with songs, with drink, with food, with words, with history, with skies, with moments and seas and rocks and stones stacked high upon themselves for remembrance.
Yet still I hear it.
Where are you? Across the sea?
The umbilical cord chaining me to my mother was broken in the sky.

Say it isn’t so
That song, that song, that song I hear
Is it coming from me?
I wish another song
But you are the only one ever taught to me
So what else shall I sing?
You break my heart by tearing me from this adventure my soul has sought.
My heart has opened. My heart is opened;
Welcoming poets it has never heard of before
Souls, and souls, the souls of history are here and they speak to me
I only just learned to listen
But the ruthless clock drums on and foreword counting off and counting down
What now, evil clock, with time so brief?
I pray you slow your chime that I may see more
Tomorrow waits, but here tonight
How can I rest?
How can I sleep?
How can I miss these new but older songs I just discovered?
At least for now, if I could give up my songs for theirs-I would jump at the chance
Though I may change my mind come morning.

Edinburgh
May 8, 2017

Farewell to the Bard

Farewell to the Bard
Such brilliance in one place, the Mecca of my kind
We come to you seeking brilliance, seeking inspiration, seeking understanding, seeking knowledge
To touch your glory, to bask in the light of your genius
I stand with my brothers and sisters
May we be blessed by you O Bard
That we may please you and carry on your words in our poems and sonnets and songs
All of praise.
Are you still here in these ancient walls?
Listening? Editing? Judging? Writing?
Does it please you to hear the words that came after you, knowing you resonate in every word we sing?
May your pen may guide me to greater truths and deeper understanding, richer verse and bolder thoughts that I could hold on my own.
Your history is marked on every wall I see
Do I bow?
Do I write?
Do I genuflect?
DO I dare count myself among your kind?
I cannot help but wonder what you might think of me.
Would you think of me?
Or does my arrogance run away with me?
I could just gaze in wonder and never wonder how I measure in your mind.
But what is the profit in looking if not to see?
I invite you to show my what you will
My eyes, my thoughts, my words are open to you
Can we sing our songs together?
I’ve often been told I have a voice well met for harmony
Sing for me and I will join
Shall I choose the key
And leave you the lyric?

May 7, 2017
Stratford Upon Avon

Past and Future

The past appears unremarkable to those who always see it.
Your entire city is built on history, on tradition
And stares at you everywhere you go.
And yet you want to leave it?
You want to leave you buildings 400 years tested and 400 years strong?
You want to leave your streets permanent, placed where time would have them, not as the answer to an industrial challenge?
You want to leave your hills so ancient they hold your city like a proud parent, balancing each ancient brick on its elbows and forearms so still so as to not wake the baby?
You want to leave your river: old, predictable, controlled, reserved, anticipated, that carved the streets on which you walk?
But I come from the new world, unpredictable and growing.
So exciting, so electric, taller, louder, brighter
History has never seen a world like mine for history has yet to see my world.
No tradition leads my steps
No past controls my next
But I am too sensible of my own youth
to ignore the past is to repeat it
But what of those who have no past?
My future may be wild, big, exciting, proud
But yours is inevitable
In your past I see your future
An ancient future, but well made
And ever so beautiful.

May 6, 2017
Bath, England

Baptism

And thus I wash the sterile air from my body.
The airplane fumes and pressurized life dripping from my skin
And I am baptized anew.
Washing the sleep from my eyes I can look and I can see,
numbness fades with the rise of a tingling.
Adventure is out there, and world you are waiting.
I’ll greet you friend so strange to me
How will you return my welcome?

May 1, 2017
Ace hotel, London

Lost in Translation

A bit lost in translation, isn’t it?
We’ve agreed on so much so far
Our languages aren’t so different
You’ve taught me new words
You’ve reminded me of old songs;
I might have forgotten them if not for you.
Everything just a little bit changed from what I’ve known or seen or sung before.
Subtle variances in familiar tunes,
But only a manual car?!
Who would have known it would take coming all the way to England to curse my father for never teaching me to drive stick.

May 6, 2017
Somewhere north of Bristol
On a train, not a car as originally intended.

The Calling

The sky is calling – so I must go
I hear your song, your beckon
I’ll take you up on the invitation.
But where will you take me?
Somewhere new? Somewhere exciting? Somewhere old? Somewhere foreign?
I pray, show me what I haven’t seen before
Expand my mind, expand my eyes, expand my soul, expand my heart
my heart is so full in this moment!
I want to see more, I want to know more
The views the vistas hitherto unknown to me
From my window – all I’ve seen:
old tree, young grass, black pavement, sticky pollen, you yellow house with bleeding paint.
Show me more
Show me new
Show me old!
Old, old, old
Everything here is new
What can I learn from a new world?
Show me old wisdoms, ancient truths
The histories of my fathers and mothers who wrote before me
O sky, O world, O culture, O knowledge
Expand my mind, enrich my soul
My eyes crave a newer and older vista.

Prepare ye souls for here I come!
My soul is calling, crying, begging
To touch your soul, to know your light.
And so the sky is calling
Pardon me I have to go
The flight is boarding now.

April 30, 2017
EWK airport

To Sir Walter Scott

 

What that I could be a bird
With chance to fly away
And open skies of blue should call
Then here I’d choose to stay.

And gaze upon the ancient rock
Or rise up to the tallest tour
To cast my eyes on greener hills
And call on the first hour

I’d wander streets of stone and narrows
Paved by time and feet
Then travel still to higher hill
To rest upon the seat.

Alas poor I am called to fly
But not on my own wings
And should I stay I’d weary grow
Of rich, immortal things.

What wonder rests in kings and queens
And lad and lass of pride?
I’d tire so of history
And beauty at my side.

And should I stay the songs I hear
Would have to reach an end
To break my woken heart just as
I’ve come to know you friend.

O land, O heart, O pride, O beauty
Come with me I pray
Or grant me wings e’er permanent
So that instead I stay.

The sky over the Atlantic
May 10, 2017

 

I don’t often comment on my writing, but I feel a need to explain the posts that are going to appear over the next few days. I just returned from a ten day trip to the United Kingdom visiting London, Bath, Stratford-Upon-Avon, and Edinburgh. I’ve never visited this homeland of writers and found it inspiring and wonderful.

While traveling I kept a journal of thoughts, poems and ramblings that I’m now going to try and make sense of and share.

I plan to post in chronological order, thus inviting you all to enjoy this trip with me. But to start out this is the last poem I wrote, you could consider it my love letter to Edinburgh.