Tag Archives: Main

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Dancing Toes

by

Dancing Toes

in magic mist
of salty spray
toes dance
with laughing waves
in sands
of life’s eternities

Tio Stib, 2014

You might also enjoy: Mirrored Smile, Night Walk

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Imagine Water

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Imagine Water
Imagine water
Floating shapeless
High
Above cities
Shape shifting
Angry
Falling
Dropping
Exploding on sidewalks
Sliding off feathers
Tearing leaves from their hearts
Trickling, running, roaring
Rivers through mountains
Cascades
white, reckless
Purposeful
Past farm and graveyard
To stillness, deep
dark
Slow
Sliding softly back into the womb
Kissing ocean mother
Home
Imagine water
Vibrating
beyond sight
Floating,
silent, immense
love
God

tio stib, 2014

You might also enjoy: A Mirrored Smile, Nightwalk

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Lookout

by

a sudden urge
and I was gone
to climb  a trail
to search beyond

as sun and peaks
glowed into one
I found the fate
that pulled me on

wind worn and bent
steel towered high
Ancient lookout
time gone by

just me and God
as day met night
Up stairs I rose
to Heaven’s sight

surrounded vast
a mountain sea
rose peaks
of iced immensity

new friends appeared
to fill dark skies
sparkling lights
of timeless eyes

Cocooned and snug
With peeping head
I set sail on
my cosmic bed

Tio Stib

You might also enjoy:
Withered Wilderness

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Where The Sidewalk Ends

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There is a place where the sidewalk ends
And before the street begins,
And there the grass grows soft and white,
And there the sun burns crimson bright,
And there the moon-bird rests from his flight
To cool in the peppermint wind.

Let us leave this place where the smoke blows black
And the dark street winds and bends.
Past the pits where the asphalt flowers grow
We shall walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
And watch where the chalk-white arrows go
To the place where the sidewalk ends.

Yes we’ll walk with a walk that is measured and slow,
And we’ll go where the chalk-white arrows go,
For the children, they mark, and the children, they know
The place where the sidewalk ends.

by Shel Silverstein, 1974

When I start slipping into seriousness, I turn to Shel Silverstein to lighten up. Reading his poems with kids is better than blowing bubbles on B.A.R.T. For more fun, try this link.

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For Years My Heart Inquired of Me

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For years my heart inquired of me
Where Jamshid’s sacred cup might be,
And what was in its own possession
It asked from strangers, constantly;
Begging the pearl that’s slipped its shell
From lost souls wandering by the sea.

Last night I took my troubles to
The Magian sage whose keen eyes see
A hundred answers in the wine
Whose cup he, laughing, showed to me.
I questioned him, “When was this cup
That shows the world’s reality

Handed to you?” He said, “The day
Heaven’s vault of lapis lazuli
Was raised, and marvelous things took place
By Intellect’s divine decree,
And Moses’ miracles were made
And Sameri’s apostasy.”

He added then, “That friend they hanged
High on the looming gallows tree—
His sin was that he spoke of things
Which should be pondered secretly,
The page of truth his heart enclosed
Was annotated publicly.

But if the Holy Ghost once more
Should lend his aid to us we’d see
Others perform what Jesus did—
Since in his heartsick anguish he
Was unaware that God was there
And called His name out ceaselessly.”

I asked him next, “And beauties’ curls
That tumble down so sinuously,
What is their meaning? Whence do they come?”
“Hafez,” the sage replied to me,
“It’s your distracted, lovelorn heart
That asks these questions constantly.”

By Hafiz, 1300’s
Translate By Dick Davis

Hafiz and Rumi are perhaps Persia’s most famous poets. I enjoy Hafiz for his laughing conversatons with God. You might enjoy this link to a delightful reading of two other Hafiz poems.

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The Path

by

In clouds of colors
mountains high
alone and far from strife

gasping air
feet flying free
I chase the scent of life

Soul in flight
heart on fire
I charge at hidden schemes

In icy mist
white blinds the path
lost visions of my dreams

I stumble then
mistake my tread
and face falls into snow

It now becomes
a simple choice
To answer “yes” or “no”

No I stop
or Yes I go
in search of my true name

I choose,
plunge on
to find my path

I choose life’s mystery game

Tio Stib
© 2014

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Why I Write Poetry

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My Path to Writing Excellence

In the midst of my current mental writing cramps, I rediscovered a cache of poems written a lifetime back. In reading through them, I concluded that I wasn’t much of a poet years ago yet occasionally I created a resonant verse. I also realized that the same disciplined determination for writing excellence must be applied to all forms of creative writing. Poetry, though, feels like doing pushups as compared to  the exercise demanded by my current novel, which is more in line with a marathon.

I’ve decided that I’m better off putting in the effort to write a decent poem than write nothing at all, especially in those moments that turn into hours, when I’m less inclined to write another page in my book. And, that in mind, I’m better off pushing myself to do another purposeful and even playful blog post than searching out vicarious life thrills on CNN.

Yes, I believe any exercise done well is far better than no exercise at all. Any writing I do that is focused on excellence moves me towards my summit.

How do you keep pushing towards writing excellence?

Here’s the link to my latest poem, “Sometimes They Smile”

Tio Stib Signature