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If I said the place had ambience December 31, 2016

Posted by vsap in Blogroll, Poetry, Uncategorized.
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If I said the place had ambience

you might envision low lights and the musing of a nylon-string guitarist in the corner

fighting the light chatter and constant movement of wait staff detracting from his talent.

If I said the place had ambience

you might see a twenty-thousand-seat arena typically used for hockey games

with acoustics making the sound indiscernible as your favorite band ignores the obvious.

If I said the place had ambience

would you think of a smoke-filled room where the talk is loud and abusive?

Or, are there too few neighborhood bars, stifled by no smoking laws to consider it?

If I said the place had ambience

could it be like a ski lodge with roaring fireplace and walls festooned with trophy game?

Would it be hot cocoa, dry martinis or craft beer as you settle into your soft leather couch?

If I said the place had ambience

you might envision your own living room with the grace and comfort it affords

along with light conversation with your lover as “Love, Actually” drones on Netflix.

If I said the place had ambience, what comes to your mind? Where does your heart wander?


There is no stopping time December 30, 2016

Posted by vsap in Blogroll, Poetry, Uncategorized.
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There is no stopping time; no pregnant pause granted.

I can hear the birds singing even in late December

for the weather fools them and with no capacity to remember,

they will vigorously repeat what they have ranted.

And Spring is nowhere to be seen, nowhere to be heard,

but no one is looking for it because no one cares.

Their holiday has left them with full guts and empty stares

and they can’t hear a single song from any bird.

What of the work that lies ahead in the new year?

Passing entertainment has pushed that thought aside.

Yet, they have found nothing of the sacred to abide

And they wonder why they face the coming month with fear.

“Leave it for tomorrow”, I heard it casually said.

I understand living for the present and giving all to today.

There’s no guarantee of tomorrow with its debts to pay

And someone remarked, “They can’t collect from me when I’m dead!”

Supposing I take this life too seriously, too intensely,

And my passion runs rough-shod over my common sense.

How would I gather my well-deserved recompense?

If I didn’t, would it bother me immensely?

I have turned off the television and left the radio alone.

It has been so long since I was reacquainted with quiet —

my mind is a battlefield, preparing for the next riot,

but I’d prefer so much to forget it all and go home.


Contemplating the new year December 28, 2016

Posted by vsap in Blogroll, Poetry, Uncategorized.
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I was thinking about a new year

and how we can create it during any season.

But we look at January 1 to put it in gear

and I know the price of that spiritual treason.

Yet, I’d rather sing a sad old song

forgiving myself for the misspent time;

forgiving myself for all I’ve done wrong.

But you don’t owe me your forgiveness

even with the dawn of a new year loving the sky.

I’m the one who abused your graciousness

and left our relationship in a dark alley to die.

We can start this new year with sun instead of rain

if you would only reach your hand out to me.

I would embrace your laughter and let go of my pain

and we’d take that proverbial boat and set out to sea.

I was contemplating a new year

and how we can create it in any season.

But we leave it to January 1 to put things into gear

and I can’t delay it for any reason.

If I am lost then come and find me.

Don’t wait for the new year to reach out

or should I just call you or will you ignore it?

We can talk about the future and what its all about

or we can let another new year pass and forget it.



Old Rocking Chair (Christmas visitation and remembrance) December 22, 2016

Posted by vsap in Blogroll, Poetry, Uncategorized.

The rocking chair hasn’t aged well,

now like a museum piece, unfit to sit on

but the memories are richly preserved.

All the tales a rocking chair could tell

moved around this house fifty-years plus seven

with more to come and well-deserved.

Antiques of Christmas, everyone remembers who bought them.

The family knows how it entered and remained.

And it’s not like a locket or valuable gem

just everyone would rather have it so it sustained

all the threats to chuck it on the fire or give it away.

About thirty years ago it was relegated to the garage

but cousin Charlie loved to play his banjo on it so he demanded it stay

Then the grandkids began using it for decoupage.

It took some time for it to recover.

Homer Formby helped me get stripped down and stained.

It seemed like an old friend and the house’s first lover

even though it has been ten years since anyone gave it a strain.

I filled the last stress fractures and warned off the relatives;

it had become a “look but don’t touch” anomaly

in a house filled with modern furnishings it seems pejorative

and yet it stays, in its way, majestically.

No, the rocking chair hasn’t aged well,

a well-guarded family heirloom no one can sit on.

But the memories are richly preserved to tell

to future generations, their relatives, and on and on.

Time evaporated December 21, 2016

Posted by vsap in Blogroll, Poetry, Uncategorized.
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I haven’t spoken to you in a while.

The space of death eight years ago

made me believe conversations were over.

I shun the ethereal plane so what’s done is done.

I discovered this cul-de-sac of my soul is very real

and, indeed, my suffering is private and woeful.

But there was encouragement from your heart

and mercy from your eyes and on your tongue.

However, it is fading like winter’s light, too soon each day.

There is a void – a merciless emptiness – engulfing me

when I have more to be thankful for than I can recount.

I’ve earned my spiritual prison but I refuse to own it.

It’s a rental more expensive than a Manhattan walk-up

and I wonder if its smarter to leave it, and its naked walls,

or allow it to find its balance and help me find mine.

Even if I haven’t spoken to you in a while I know you’ve heard

crossing an arc of years that doesn’t matter.

Time evaporated.

I’m thrown by the bull December 10, 2016

Posted by vsap in Blogroll, Poetry, Uncategorized.
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Living in the moment when the moment eludes you,

like when the police are chasing an unleashed driver.

And there’s no thought for the next move or moment,

it’s focus on evading and a point of least resistance.

But searching for a moment not stifled by boredom

is a challenge when everything must be significant;

when you can’t afford to lose momentum, mojo;

and you know you’ve lost it but it hasn’t gone missing.

“Did you do all those things you promised, pledged?”

I haven’t, couldn’t, wouldn’t, as I desired to exchange

the world’s gold for a singular moment, this one, now.

“That’s useless, I mean, you gave your word, really?”

My library is stacked with unread books, moments unfulfilled,

and I left them unopened for a reason, is it moral treason?

I listened, I thought, but I can’t seem to get a handle on it –

this may not be my first rodeo but now I’m thrown by the bull.