Patient

Some, there may be, that
Would accuse me of inertia,
Sitting enraptured in the dreams
Of tomorrow’s tales, but they
Would know, should they care
To consider the matter, that
Time is not mine to manipulate.
I would trade the gift of this
Verse for the talent to make
The clock quicken, speeding me
To your side, and the ability
To set back the seconds’ ticking
When we are together, stalling
Our selves when we are with
One another, one with each other.
And now I have heard the sounds of
Symphony sung by the storied
Prophets, words wound up with
Wonder and awe, stealing from my muse
Saying it all better than I ever could.
My own voice, here inscribed,
Sounds, by comparison, so convoluted,
Chaotic, like my attention deficient
Demeanor, and so I let those others
Speak for me, swaying me to their
More simple visions, and there I find
The will to wage this campaign
By wielding their weapons, so
Obvious had I taken the time to
Look for them before. Things really
Will be just fine; all I need is just
A bit of patience.

Dakin 5/24/09

Wishing

I wish it all made sense
This rhythmic roller coaster of rhyme
This litter of ink blots blurring this page
This whirlwind of whimsy spinning my mind
I find too often I just can’t leave
Things well enough alone, just let it be
That far too many times I hammer the nail past
The point of flush, destroying the foundation
I wish that I could breathe
That I could corral the calming air
That the trail of thought would suspend its trek
That I could find contentment in life’s content
I wish that I could make
The dream today’s reality rendered
There for now, lasting an entire lifetime
Thirst quenched by waters flowing from this rock
I crave the common thought
That this is where I am meant to be
That this is who I am supposed to be
That all is well where it should be
I long to be satisfied
Through the simple standards of living
The smell of a spring bouquet freshly hewn
The smile and laughter on a child’s face
But mostly I find myself just wishing
That I was there with you.

Dakin 5/21/09

Misfit

Clustered on this island,
Out of sight, out of mind -
Out of time. It isn’t until
I hear the voices, dear to me,
Echoing across differing
Distances, all spoken in my
Ears, bringing me comfort
In the thought that I am
Not alone on this hurtling
Hemisphere, that I know
I have come home for the
Day, momentary insanities
Of real world transgressions
Erased in this technological
Construct that caters so well
To that part of me that craves
Companionship, yet shuns
Contact with the avenues
Crowded by unworldly
Apparitions, my escape from
Isolation. Supernatural
Bonds connecting those of
Kindred spirit for whom the
Monotonous machinations
Of daily drama dim the
Desire to excel, to achieve
That righteous reckoning
Promised by the constant
Call that, truly, somewhere
There is something better;
That although everybody
Here comes from somewhere
Else, there is a common
House set aside for us in
This cyberspace, this near
Wild heaven held by the
Spark of electrons, sweet
And delirious. If home truly
Lies where the heart holds
Fast, then it is in this immaterial
Haven that I have found the
Lasting peace that I am not
The only ghost of my kind,
For I surround myself
With those other wandering
Similar souls that I am
Fiercely proud to call my
Friends.

-Dakin 5/14/09

Escape Velocity

Poised on the precipice of this planet,
The ravine of an entire galaxy below us;
The canyon of a universe unexplored,
Realities undiscovered; concepts unimagined.
There is such wonder and excitement
Awaiting our ever grasping limbs should we
Find our way to take that leap of faith,
Floating out and away, finding our
Own paths of pursuit to capture the
Unknown, to broaden our collective knowledge.
There is such truth and perception
Buried deep in our imaginative fiction,
A chorus of voices calling to our own
Dormant curiosities, questioning always what
Lies far beyond the next hovering horizon,
Yet closer to us than we dare to acknowledge.
We can believe; we can achieve the dream,
The vision propounded by prophets past
Who sensed the dawning of new days to come,
Whose cries urged us to knock down the walls
Of minds closed to the challenge of change.
But now the night has turned into morning;
Let the new day begin. Feel the restlessness
Compel us to action, the desire to lay claim
To new experiences, the drive to demolish
Past misconceptions and rebuild in the rubble
These new realities. We really could be anyone.
Someday.

-Dakin 5/7/09