War Of Dreams

 War of Dreams

On this battlefield is fought a war

Not unlike the war that men

Fight to the death with dying breath

Till freedom reigns again.

This war is to the death, likewise

Though living may go on

When hope has faded from desperate eyes

And home is no longer home.

This war, unlike the killing fields

Kills only in the heart

Tears up the mind with dangerous thought

And shreds the soul apart.

This war is fought with anguished hands

That do not dare let go

Of dreams born in the days of youth

Surviving friend and foe.

This war of dreams continues on

Till the fight is done and through

'Oft leaving our dreams undone but written

For others to read and do.

©by Voo

Feb 5, 2005

6:32 p.m.

Van Gogh And I (An oldie From Voo's Vault)

Starry Starry Night 

Van Gogh and I 

Van Gogh was a poet

Who painted picture words

A tortured soul with shattered heart

At least that's what I've heard.

I sit for hours and contemplate

The purpose of his plight

Then throw up my hands and lose myself

In his starry "Starry Night."

He had a knack for choosing

Pale ordinary scenes

And touching them with magic

And changing what they mean.

He turned ugliness into beauty

And beauty into scorn

He threw away the scented rose

And gave pity to the thorn.

He never knew the taste of love

And yet it brought him low

Love played the game of hide and seek

But it's face it would not show.

Love made him paint the portraits

Love made him wield the brush

He gave his life and soul for love

And love left his heart crushed.

His tired old men look sadly out

Of their prisons (picture frames)

They cry out for their privacy

For their hundred years of shame.

In every field and peasant

I see Van Gogh's expression

His hope and hopelessness comes through

For he never learned his lesson.

Through Van Gogh's eyes I see the world

(Or the world as it should be)

Van Gogh and I are quite alike:

We can't face reality.

Sometimes I almost fancy

When before his work I stand

That he is in there looking out

Reaching forth his hand.

Drawing me into his world

Far from this earth of blight

To sit with him and gaze into

That eternal starry night.

And if I could, I'd take his hand

And make him want to live

The world has taken all from him

Now it's our turn to give.

Vin-cent, if you can hear me

I hope my words ring true

I long to brush away your pain

And paint a smile on you.

©by Voo

                                                                                              long ago and far away

 

Tribute to van Gogh .......His paintings......

 

                                    Video made by Bear

FIVE O'CLOCK QUEEN

Five O'Clock Queen

Every day at five on the dot, she comes
All the heads raise, swivel around, and then look away
(I don't know why she comes here anymore.)

They tell me she was beautiful in her time
Nice long legs and red-gold hair and eyes to catch your breath
But time's become her enemy, if it ever was her friend.

I don't think there's anything sadder
Than the face she smiles at me
As I pour her beer and take her coins and watch her look around.

She stumbles to the booth that knows her contours well
Fluffs back her hair and licks her lips
And pretends she's unaware.

Maybe there's a new guy in that doesn't know the score
And I see him raise her hopes up
And then dash them to the ground.

The regulars jab him in the ribs and laugh behind their hands
"No, son," they say, "You want none of that!"
And she pretends she doesn't hear.

When the beer is warm and the night is cold
I watch her reflection in the window pane 
On the odd night, in that light, I can see her as she was.

Sometimes, I ignore her and sometimes I just can't
I wipe the bar and wipe my hands
And put quarters in the jukebox.

"This one's for you." I'll say
And she'll light up like a child on Christmas morning
And nod her graying head like a reigning queen.

But when she's gone, I'll play a Dave Loggins song
And a hush falls as the room is filled with shame
And pain and longing for the days that are no more.

Days when youth was beautiful even on an ugly face
And those eyes could make you stumble after
And promise her tomorrow when you knew it wouldn't come.

©by Voo Shining Stone
May 12, 09
1:18 a.m

This is the heartbreaking song that inspired this poem. 
I felt that this woman had another
part of her story that needed to be told...................

The Blue Vineyard Of Voo Shining Stone: FOR A TIME a collab with Voo and Andy

The Blue Vineyard Of Voo Shining Stone: FOR A TIME a collab with Voo and Andy: For A Time He opens his eyes And sees that the sun has been awake for hours He stares around the dimly lit room And wat...

Out Amongst The Cadillacs

 

Out Amongst the Cadillacs

Out amongst the Cadillacs

With wheels of rust

I dream the dreams

Of backwoods girls

In fields of dust.

There ain't that much to do

But dream my dreams

Sit in the sun

And fish

In dried up streams.

They tell me once

This place was sweet and fair

But if it was

I just can't see

No sweetness there.

Just me and Hank

The hound dog laying round

In sun beamed rays

Of daylight

On the ground.

Every now and then

He lifts his head

To scowl at me 

But mostly though

He just plays dead.

He chased a rabbit once

For half a yard

Then stopped and shrugged

The hell with it

It was too hard.

There came a feller through

Five year ago

Looking fine

And making time

But had to go.

He charmed me with

The stories he would tell

My daddy said 

He was a snake

But I still wish him well.

My daddy picked me out a beau 

When I was just a lass

Old as my dad

But he left me mad

And tired of all my sass.

My mama ran away

When I was three

My daddy caught her

With a peddler

Sitting on his knee.

My daddy died in '86

With no known reason to

He left me Hank

And this little shack

And a Cadillac or two.

But they don't run, they never did

And I don't know how to drive

So I stay put

Me and the mutt

And try to stay alive.

The cow and chicken, they provide

Friendship and fun and food

They get out the gate

And repopulate

When they get in the mood.

But me, I just sit on the porch

Day after lonely day

Watching birds

 Build nests on Hank

Too lazy to shoo them away.

I reckon one day I might pack

And leave this house of woe

But fields and forests

Are all I see

And I don't know where I'd go.

I  did walk down to the road last night

To stand and stare

A man in a pickup

Asked if I needed a ride

But I didn't dare.

I couldn't leave ole Hank behind

He wouldn't understand

He hasn't moved

And I don't know

If he can even stand.

He'd been with me for most my life

He was my only friend

And I swore that

I'd watch over him

Until the bitter end.

This morning I went out to feed

The chicken and the cow

And a buzzard was sitting

By a pile of bleached bones

Lawd, what has happened now?

I didn't know the dog had passed

Or how long he'd been dead

I thought that he

Had just gone gray

Though he used to be bright red.

The buzzard waved his skinny wings 

Over the place where Hank was laying

He bowed his head

 And I realized

That the both of us was praying.

The chicken and the cow stood by

With a solemn moo and cluck

And I shed a tear

And said, Ya'll stay here

I've got to go catch that truck!

©by Voo

June 16, 2012

10:48 p.m.