Freshwater Fires; Stillwater Reflections 11.23.22
“Star-Dating”
Don’t you want to go and gaze at the stars?
Out past the playground
Where we used to dream of reaching Mars
Look a bit closer and see it shine bright and round
Instead of chasing cash and cars
Lay here on the cold hard ground
All the spinning stars at the bottle’s bottomed bars
Just as storied in the sky, I’ve found
Tilt back your head and see Cassiopeia
Sitting center high and flipped
Ignore the nagging amygdala
Feel the cold of space and soil’s script
Too many stories to share for just one winter’s night
Look closely to see Ursa, major and minor glow
Pets astride the rising Orion, on left and right
Brighter guiding northward Polaris will tell you where to go
Northern star, not lights, will guide me to your terrace
Lighthouse amongst the suburban sea
Wishing you well with love to embarrass
Singing sweet lullabies, story time ‘til you’re in love with me
If I make up the stories will you really know?
Of the bears and the barechested bowman
Do lovers, fish, or crabs care for the worries below?
A new twinkle above, a new story began
Waiting like Santa’s snow patrol
For forming clouds from the Northern Pole
@env0writes C.Buck
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Freshwater Fires; Stillwater Reflections 11.20.22
“Tired of Tomorrow’s”
There’s a window somewhere
In a house
On a street
Where I’ll peek
Across the lawn
From the walk
I’ll see myself in the light
In a home filled with warmth
Not alone in a room, lights turned out
There’s a window somewhere
In a house
On a lane
Where I’ll glance
Across the gate
From the sidewalk
I’ll see myself working
Employed and overjoyed
With a word count to reach to the stars
I’ve thrown rocks at these windows
Shouted my name
The clatter doesn’t matter
It all sounds just the same
A small little dream
That I mix in my meal
Eaten atop of my officechairbed
Board up the windows
I’m tired of light
Shining too bright
It pollutes out the night
Sleepless I’ll wander the streets
Looking for work still yet to be done
From the out, looking in
Sunrise, time to tuck-in
@env0writes C.Buck
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Freshwater Fires; Stillwater Reflections 11.19.22
“In the Beginning...”
It began with a word
Just a whisper
Begging to be heard
A little word to be heard did occur
Soon came a setting
With the drapes all in blue
Setting up scenes not worth regretting
What a wonderful hue
A scene is incomplete without a cast
Longer and longer the lines would appear
How on heaven or earth would it last
Words are meant to be shared, you must hear
So one sat the others, in a circle down plain
Preparing themselves before a large herd
Began to speak something ordinarily mundane
“It began with a whisper, just a word that was begging to be heard”
@env0writes C.Buck
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Freshwater Fires; Stillwater Reflections 11.25.22
“I’ll Get It Right Next Time”
Like a disgruntled painter
I’ve thrown buckets of paint
Over this poem again,
And again and again
Hoping that I’ll get it right
The next time
Ghosts of these letters
May haunt me, and the final piece
I’m running out of whitewash, Sawyer
Even this will be covered over
In the coming winters’ snow
Letting me try once more
To get my feelings right
@env0writes C.Buck
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Freshwater Fires; Stillwater Reflections
11.14.22“Nightmares Don’t Play Fair”
And to the world clung winter night
Clutching at torches untouched
Cold and flame alike both bite
Fear pulls tighter, bedsheets clutched
Behind twelve mares of pitch
Comes the itch inside the brain
Outside the window, nightmares hitch
Tapping at the window, they’re here for pain
How damning is the dark? Desperate to hold
Holy bones, as all holy things should be; frozen
Should fortune favor the world to be bold
How now must we be chosen?
With deep exhalation, relief in visible breath
To simply make a cloud instead of parting one
The ice in our veins and pipes will be our death
Snowblind, still behind the sled, led undone,
Stomp knee-high, through damping drifts
Towards hotter, higher climes?
Weather changes, quarter past two sized hail shifts
Smoke sails the horizon, burning towards heaven climbs
What use is the afterlife, if it is only after life well spent
Warmed at flickering passion flame,
At the cost of sacrilege, little desire to repent
Midst the winter night, candle lights gather to game
Flickering, snickering, staggering dreams
Alight in the company of friends and fiends
Pulled from pantries with pastries and creams
Have a bite of this moment of bliss within means
Pebble-struck windows from lovers or death
Bring ice and bring fire, like wood to the hearth
With this chest-clutched breath
First or final, for all between are of equal worth
@env0writes C.Buck
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Freshwater Fires; Stillwater Reflections 11.18.22
“Autumn Loving All For You”
I am a cold breeze, autumn calling
Out the door, the stairs, I’m falling
Like the leaves beside me
I am in love with all that i see
There is a iceblock on my shoulder
Chipped off of the winter’s boulder
Were I any bolder, I’d be out there now with you
In the fair's long lines and queue
Where are the chimes upon the wind
Sharing words I’d not rescind
Whisper sweet, sweet lullabies
Not a single word are lies
Across the yard I’ll stride
Full of gusto, full of pride
And my heart, it aches and whines
For love’s field is strewn with mines
As fledgling as the flock flies
Like an arrow where the warmth lies
And you’re calling out my name
Time for dinner, no more blame
So the sun’s set and I’m trying
To sum up what you’re not buying
Just a minute more my dear
I’ll be home again, no fear
I’ll be home again, no fear
Tending to love, sincere
@env0writes C.Buck
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Freshwater Fires; Stillwater Reflection 11.13.22
“Forever Young, 2010, Mandolynn”
You turn to say, “Are we doing this shit?”
Trust me babe, I really do want to hit
Just that you're the first girl that I ever kissed
A moment too fast and I'd have to remiss
You took my hand I and followed you down
Into the valley where the river, I drown
I've got it bad, drink the water, my head
Spinning and sinning and flush full of red
Honestly, I'm ready to go
But, truthfully, I really don’t know
It's a kiss, then I'll miss, but I'll see you again?
But after tonight will it be any more than
A summer night where we came to my home
Imagination may wander, but both our hands roam
Hearing the sounds of our instrument moan
Pressing our bodies and changing the tone
Truthfully you taste sweeter than pie
Now I think I understand why
We take part in these carnal delights
Even in the dark, you can feel all the sights
You taught me, you bought me, I gave you my time
You wrought me to feel so sublime
But you threw me off with your clarity
Asking me now, to give up just a part of me
Losing my status you ripped from me
Not soon long after, I did not see
You
Again
@env0writes C.Buck
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Freshwater Fires; Stillwater Reflections 11.6.22
“Will Call”
Waiting at will call
Payphone in hand
Quarters on the counter
I don’t believe
You ever intended
To call me back
Did you?
“No” calls my anger
Knowing I deserve
Better than this
Silence only found
Within my private glass
The world passes by
An unmoving spot
“No” you will not call
Amphitheatre full of croaks
Of cloaks, and jokes; just me
Waiting for the will to call
Will you call back?
Did you ever intend
To return anything of mine
My left breast, empty
Now nests red-breasted robins
Spring is coming back
Without and unlike you
@env0writes C.Buck
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Freshwater Fires; Stillwater Reflections 11.5.22
“5th of November”
I will try to remember
This fifth of November,
Food and friendship remain
Beyond all the struggles and pain
Beneath the paling sky
Weary, worn, with cup run dry
At friendship’s font shall I refill
By will be well and tell with skill
A piece of bread, broken for me
Shared over time, not taken for free
Bartered or haggled to have a piece of mine
Given just as freely for a moment so fine
If we were meant to be isolated
Constant thoughts to be contemplated
Why must the forest grown in friendship
Harbor fruit, succor, and roots that trip
Tumble over kind words, and kinder rest
Found in the limbs bearing just one nest
This day was a good day
I must do my best to remember it that way
Too often will I dwell
Upon the dreary days, found at the bottom of a well
Like hell, I’ll suffer my mind
When all I need to do, is remind
@env0writes C.Buck
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Freshwater Fires; Stillwater Reflections 11.22.22
“Love, Of The Theatrics”
Center stage spotlight
Limelight love’s sight
Warm and vibrant and loud
Until the lights go out
Leaving you standing
Alone in that same theater
Waiting for an encore
To lift the heavy curtain
Once more
And fill the hall
With light and
The call of your name
@env0writes C.Buck
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Freshwater Fires; Stillwater Reflections 11.17.22
“Penny for a Peddler”
Consume me more
Observe me more
Oh passerby, goodbye
You try to gawk and marvel
As though I’m made of marble
No city statues writhe as I
You look down in modesty, your eye
Catches sight of my bin of pay
Off you swing and stride along your way
I’m worth the enjoyment
But not the parting of your earned mint
Just a dollar will do
For the pleasure of view
Means more to me
Than it will to you
So consume me
Enjoy what you see
Grease the palms and alms
Why the qualms?
Of rewarding hard work
@env0writes C.Buck
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Freshwater Fires; Stillwater Reflections 11.30.22
“Losing Peter Pan”
When retirement arrives like sunset graduations
Will the stairs ascend, like the corporate ladder
Struggling, wrung for wrong, wrought with
Wrung-out single-ringed, wrinkled iron hands
Or slope down to the sandy scorching beaches and seas
Setting dis-ease at ease and pleasing to the senses
Senselessly both filled with violence
Striking discordant moans across conscious sinew
Oozing success like synovial fluid
Lured on the promise of rest at the end of the rainbow
Pot of gold rust bucket, luck it seems is tired too
A liar, you are too wearily, warily acquainted with
Antiquated in the scension denouement
Reaching out a hand for your ma in the middle of the night
Consumed by the capital, toothy maw gnawing
Ear drums tinnitus timpani and trepanation
Trepidation at the turning of the page
Squiring towards the night of life
With salt-soaked limbs that hang
Like straw-man stuffed sinners in the fields
Scaring away and attracting the murders
Into the pastures and past-times of the those
On the precipice of their time
@env0writes C.Buck
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Freshwater Fires; Stillwater Reflections 11.17.22
“Moving Out”
Burning books and burning bridges
Pruned tree limbs and causing stitches
Family trees
Opportunities
Books stacked higher than smoke stacks rise
Stinging, burning ash in my eyes
Goodness please
Pass with ease
Toss the fragment of myself
From the tallest burning shelf
Ripped seams
Fallen beams
Archipeligogic dreams of man
Pursuit of peace is the plan
Never rested
Always tested
@env0writes C.Buck
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Freshwater Fires; Stillwater Reflections 11.15.22
“Novemberences”
Will November forgive me
These remembrances
These winter delight trances
Seeking entrances
When the month and year
Pursue their exit with grace
With little haste
Do I attempt to race the sun
When the moonlight will suffice
Any advice
Adhered is near to me when I look up
The bonfire ashes mix with constellations
Constant, burning consternation
Autumn is coppered by inevitable spring
Abated only by winter’s snug embrace
Will this denouement flutter
Golden brown with sunset leaves
Leaving behind the summer kissed moments
Sunburnt hearts inked where sleeves should be
Rigid fingers prod leaf pile coals
Rustle up gravity’s grateful embrace
I miss the walkways, filled with flame
Off the top of your head, my gaze fixed
Finding your glance returned
In every turning leaf
Will I forgive November
These remembrances
These autumn numb dances
Clawing out
When the page and chapter close
Chased out to where the wind blows
@env0writes C.Buck
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Freshwater Fires; Stillwater Reflections 11.3.22
“A Day Is A Day”
A day is the way that you spend it
Be it good, or as bad as you willed
But a day is a day, you must admit
Whether or not you end it fulfilled
As swiftly the robin first takes to flight
So rise, you and I to our day
The morning too quickly turns into night
Uncaring if we’ve earned our pay
The flowers will open and close after dusk
Unaware that their hours, the norm
Still you bustle and busy ‘til you’re but a husk
Too afraid of somebody that’s warm
A day is a day like any other
Like life and like love it must die
Please enjoy it for one and another
Whether quick or in leisure, mundane, or Monday you must try
@env0writes C.Buck
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Freshwater Fires; Stillwater Reflections 11.27.22
“Suburban Street Sermons”
Loaves and fishes
Lacquer glued to hatchbacks
Catholic mass packed minivans
Biding their time at the gas pump
Lined up for the Blood of Chrysler
Bag of rye chip for the body
Aunties playing euchre with the Eucharist
Always looking at their wrist
Waiting on hand-me-down time
Peckish at meat on Lent
Packed for their rent paying children
Children be damned if the river lets flow
If their parents let go of the rosary
Wringed around pocketed posies
Moseying down the nuptial aisle
Of their in-law guile and grandchild dream
Father and Holy-Ghost, known in the chalice
Hand in hand with malice and mallet
Took to heart the lessons of the cross
Too easily crossed, pompous, pious, punitive
Lost passions too diminutive, replaying greatest hits
Red-lipped whine-mom night-eyed silent
Gossip in the pews of the son’s political views
Between choir and prayer answered on cue
Pretty little liars accept forgiveness
Hard to impress those on their knees to accept
White-biked, summer hiked baptized Son
Pass this ichthus mass, paint your skies not eyes blue
@env0writes C.Buck
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