Writing A Poem.com: June 2018

Measure And Weigh

We are a people
Who measure and weigh,
Measure and weigh,
While the moment itself
Slips away.

~ Russ Allison Loar
© All Rights Reserved

On the evening of the day before I died
I knew I was doing everything for the last time.

Not too much melancholy,
Not too much regret,
Not too much anticipation,
Just getting ready for a trip.

Consider these words,
Weigh them well,
Ask yourself how I knew.

Someday, you’ll know too.

~ Russ Allison Loar
© All Rights Reserved

I Am

I am that which casts shadows.
I am a shadow.

I am a piano,
Unaware of the one who strikes my keys.

I am the letters on this page,
This thought,
This moment.

I am your disbelief.

I am the thickness of night,
Wrinkling the skin of old dogs,
Pricking the dreams of frightened children.

I am a voice,
Calling out to itself.

I am what answers.

~ Russ Allison Loar
© All Rights Reserved

Human Beings

Oh such comfort we draw
From the old religions,
The old words,
So divinely inspired.
We forget they were written down
By human beings,
So divinely inspired,
Doing their best to reveal
The mind of God,
The will of God,
The judgments of God,
Written down by human beings
Who are not and never will be,
Perfect.

~ Russ Allison Loar
© All Rights Reserved

How Soon We Let Go

How soon we let go of love
For more practical pursuits.

A discarded hobby,
Love leans against a corner
In a dark closet,
Gathering dust.

~ Russ Allison Loar
© All Rights Reserved

How Lovely Is Thy Mexican

How lovely is thy Mexican
Who keeps your garden green,
Who plants the flowers in the spring
Yet who is seldom seen.

Your friends and neighbors never fail
To praise your bounteous bower,
With butterfly and robin’s wing,
You pay five bucks an hour.

~ Russ Allison Loar
© All Rights Reserved

Riding

How alive this young girl
As she tenses lithe legs
Against her strong black stallion,
Shining with the sweat of speed.

Through the windy twigs of distant trees
I watch her pull against the reins
Stiff-backed,
Long hair streaming into the wind.

Now riding faster,
This chestnut-haired girl leans in close.

Pulsing together in full gallop,
They are ecstasy.

~ Russ Allison Loar
© All Rights Reserved

House Of Cards

Our cherished way of life,
So recently contrived,
Defended with such vigor,
With such zeal,
Inspired by insecurity,
Knowing it is belief,
And only belief,
That keeps this house of cards
From collapse.

~ Russ Allison Loar
© All Rights Reserved

I Can’t Explain Passion

I can’t explain passion,
And if I could,
I wouldn’t.

I can’t explain passion,
And if I would,
I shouldn’t.

~ Russ Allison Loar
© All Rights Reserved

How Hard It Is

How hard it is
To repair the damage
Of an unlucky childhood,
To break the mold,
To reinvent the life
When all the anger
Still echoes.

~ Russ Allison Loar
© All Rights Reserved

The Shadowed Man

The shadowed man hides in dark places,
Hidden from scrutiny by most,
But not from me.

I often walk through this village late at night
And I see him,
See where he sleeps,
A narrow patch of grass between two brick buildings,
Hidden by overgrown bushes.

I see his dark profile as I walk down a nearby alley.
He is not young, but I cannot tell his age,
Even on this moonlit night.
He moves in determinate ways,
Like one with years of practice in living without a home.

Of all the dark corners in this village
He has chosen well.
Close enough to shuttered restaurants and discarded food,
Barely visible only to the rare midnight wanderer.

There is something deep and dark about this man,
Something like a force field that surrounds him,
Charged with misery and anger.
He is lost in a smothering fog of regret.

I keep my distance,
Pretending not to notice
As he moves purposefully in the dark,
Doing something with his few possessions.

He frightens me and I wonder if he carries a knife,
Wonder if he kidnaps little children on their way to school,
If he has been in prison,
If he’s a wanted man.

I hear the clack of punctured metal,
The opening of a can.
He steps out from the shadows,
Into the moonlight,
Into an empty parking lot
Where a gray and black tabby races to greet him,
Tail high with affection and appreciation
For this guardian angel who brings dinner each night,
This shadowed man who has ventured out,
Into the light.

~ Russ Allison Loar
© All Rights Reserved

This Inauguration Day

The fact is the sweetest dream that labor knows.
~ Robert Frost

~ For Barack Obama's first inauguration

Today we have changed,
Moved ahead
In the midst of chaos and contention.

From the nebula where heavenly bodies are born,
Another light,
Formed from the turbulence of our universe,
Accreted from ignorance and wisdom,
Failure and success,
Made whole by compromise,
Revealed by honesty,
Another light
Ascends.

All the inspiring words
And clamoring crowds,
All the dire prognostications
And disillusioned multitudes
Cannot change the fact of our nation’s hope made flesh,
The fact of this inauguration day
That can not, will not, be wished away.

~ Russ Allison Loar
© All Rights Reserved

Home

So many kinds of love,
And lust,
And love,
But when I first touched your hand,
I knew I was home.

~ Russ Allison Loar
© All Rights Reserved

Here To Stay

My children who've grown older
Have moved away.

Now the children they once were
Are here to stay.

~ Russ Allison Loar
© All Rights Reserved

Here, Now

Earth.
Heaven.
Hell.

Heaven and Hell.

Hell on Earth.
Heaven on Earth.

Heaven and Hell on Earth,

Here,
Now.

~ Russ Allison Loar
© All Rights Reserved

Bird Calls

These birds
Do not appreciate my impersonations,
The whistling,
The forced chirping through pursed lips.
They point their beaks at one another
And tilt their heads sarcastically
As I call:
Here birdy-birdy-birdy.

Incredulous,
They raise their eyes toward the treetops
And sigh,
Tiny puffs of air,
Ruffle a feather or two
And fly.

~ Russ Allison Loar
© All Rights Reserved

Father's Day

My father was too busy
Pulling weeds from his manicured lawn,
Each root carefully extracted intact,
To notice his house burning down.

~ Russ Allison Loar
© All Rights Reserved

Enshrined

The light in her eyes when she sees her love
Illuminated beneath a streetlight,
Knowing their evening of romance has just begun,
Believing it has no end . . .

How quickly they come together,
So tightly embrace,
Looking deep into each other’s eyes,
A long kiss without caring who sees . . .

Their fingers entwine,
Their bodies stay close walking down the sidewalk
Into the enchanted night,
Arm in arm,
Heart in heart . . .

When I see them I think of you,
Of our eternal moments together,
Alive within me still,
Enshrined.

~ Russ Allison Loar
© All Rights Reserved

Here On Earth

You ask,

Why does God not see?

Why does God not act?

Where is God’s mercy?

Here on Earth,

God sees through our eyes.

Here on Earth,

God works with our hands.

Here on Earth,

We are the conscience of God.

Look within your heart.

Each of us is called.

Defiance

I did not volunteer for this duty,
Sentinel of pain,
And in my lowest moments I protest,
Knowing such protestations do no good,
Yet anger feels appropriate,
If only to maintain some kind of balance,
Some kind of defiance.

~ Russ Allison Loar
© All Rights Reserved

Professorial

He may actually believe in philosophy,
That a systematic philosophical argument can prove God exists,
That the mysteries of the heart are susceptible to reason,
That he will awaken from distress By way of intellectual inquiry.

So much to consider as he continues his search,
Wandering through the labyrinth of postulation
So late into the night,
Alone and wide awake,
Missing her.

~ Russ Allison Loar
© All Rights Reserved

Love Is A Vibration

His pocket is vibrating,
On and off all day long
With messages of love
From his eager new girlfriend,
Vibrating with urgency
On his cell phone.

But he is at work
And cannot stop.
Besides,
The words don’t matter.
The vibration is enough.

~ Russ Allison Loar
© All Rights Reserved

Heidi Ho

Heaven And Hell

Sometimes this peaceful suburban landscape
Seems like heaven.

I am momentarily reprieved
And the people in my tiny town glow,
Translucent arcs of light
Moving about their daily tasks.

We stop and talk a while.

Hell returns.

~ Russ Allison Loar
© All Rights Reserved