Thread: Another Carl Poem...

There ain't been one of these for a while. Not a 'Carl Poem'. Looking back on this I feel it's odd i had the audacity to create a thread of my poems. Yet some liked them. And now, in the spirit of Spring, let's have it, because any poet worth anything writes a poem about Spring...

Spring

I see it from the car or bus window. I look down upon it in the street.

I participate and taste it on my lips and hair and face so little, I don't think I hear it speak.

I hardly feel it; only view it - behind glass and wood and concrete.

But I want to read ev'ry poetry book, I want to sing and speak and swim.

I want to drink and debate and postulate, I want to plan and seek and binge.

I want to worship nature, I want to climb any thing.

I want to hold you by the hand and over the stream lightly spring.

And then in tomorrow's garden, we'll know we're just spirit things...

'notherpoem, 'bout motherhood, fatherhood, family...

I'm PROUD of my lovely children,
Each and every one of them.
Extremely and small tiny bundles,
nurtured by her who's a mother.

Each of them so me,
yet each of them so her.
And sometimes we agree with them.
But mostly we agree with her.

Dictate/Accommodate
by Carl

Dictate with your stipulation,
yet accommodate
my pleasure.

And now my Lord say what needs be,
yet accommodate
my desire.

And now I'm a servant,
yet I indicate
the measure.

I want to accommodate
yet still I want
to pressure.

At once to praise
and at once to indicate
to bring us all together.

Buddhism

by Carl

I need a new religion
One that doesn't whine
I used to read the readings
And sip blood off the vine.

I need a new religion
One that doesn't speak
It only wants to answer
To the questions that I seek.

I need a new religion
As I'm a simple soul
Overtaken by the light
That suggests a final goal.

I need a need religion
One that doesn't hurt
I need a new religion
My God you know I'm hurt.

I need a new religion
One that makes some sense
And accommodates at least
some half-hearted recompense...

What Is...
by Carl


And then again you’re just really going over the surface of things, we all are.
We know nothing as there is nothing to know.
It’s all opinions.

It’s in between those two buildings
that you realise
the meaning of life.

And then it’s gone.
Like a swallow.
Startling then gone.

The fish behind the glass
dart and look, eyes wide.
And then gone.

It’s all we know
What is and (pause)
What’s gone…