Words felt

Sleepwalking   Betwixt the sheets I stirred  So off I set to what sweetly called The floor was frigid and cold The night was dark and bold  Among the shadows I groped But careful I was that nothing dropped A way I made where none was marked  And reached where my goal was parked There they shone like stars in the sky The berries we’d saved for the day after I ate a few with joy and laughter  And left the rest so you wouldn’t know As I walked away I heard you groping  Behind me you ate a few with laughter And left the rest so I wouldn’t know                                             James Kaluna  

Beachside memories  Out by the sea on the wet beach sand I was scribbling down letters of a name;  It took one finger and a secand, Though one would’ve sufficed all th’ same The name I found among rags of the past, With the A’s and B’s and Y’s and Z’s, And all the letters of alphabet, first to last T’was a name I was fond of long ago, Only I couldn’t recollect the last letter; Stuck I watched the waves come and go, Hoping to get my mind t’remember better, For the name is of a person I held ‘n’ loved  Who also like waves had come and gone.                                              James Kaluna

Man O’ War Stooped across the shore With torn sails you wore Out from hunting the ore In deep seas, dark and sore Now here your sorrows afore Can’t quite gather why days yore You’ve been at no use more Deprived of war, your very core ‘Tis the hearing of lore Of peace at sea, as was before That no longer shall the sea drink gore Nor the ships you sank and apart tore Oh Man O’ War Vain and hopeless your roar  In times of ease and no fighting more Back at bay, dejected, great your bore                                             James Kaluna

The madman I saw him un-wear his watch for a week For telling it was 1pm when to him it was 1300h, Like a father grounding his son for a mischievous solecism. He took his shoes off claiming they cut off  his intimacy with the ground His clothes suffered malicious tears from him  so that he could let more sun rays in He never once laved  for he pitied the micro-life that clung to him He followed the wind wherever it took him, And returned with it so faithfully  Like a wave in the sea he was tossed about  in his grandeur thoughtfulness, A thoughtfulness he’d give his mind, and soul, and life... He was a man with more thoughts than actions, More dreams than realities, More hair than required, More jumpiness than an ant’s. It was the thirteenth hour that he asked me what the time was. “1 pm,” I said “You need to see a psychiatrist,” he postulated.                   ...

Unsaid words Time will tell the story The walls will whisper These words that I leave unsaid These words too timid to come forth These words that don’t need saying O that you would read my silent lips That you would hear the sound of this silence That you would listen to my thoughts forming  That you would understand the  song of the heart that yearns for you O that you may hear the thud of my love’s feathers falling:  crying to you in deep silence And O that you may continually inspire  these silent, unsaid words.                                                James Kaluna

Note to self Serendipity and happenstance  Churned together, Made us one I beheld you  I felt your heart beating in me My blood coursed through your veins I have seen us wending in great ways Of an active engine    of thought, Imagination, and will; Heartbeats of courage, enterprise; Warm passion Of great wisdom That forms The grey hair on our head, Of unspotted life  That gives us old age, Let us partake... And sir, great sir, Long live the young at heart  🥂

Dear Mr. Pip, Old Chap You and I both, it’d seem Are quintessence of the word Of a man we both values, ‘Tis better to’ve loved and Lost, than ne’er to’ve loved at all’ For now as we eyes beholds Our Estella Here in the graveyard of our pursuance, We’s not lost a thing, For she’s not portable property  We’d be given, and we chooses to throw or take Our Estella’s our light Our moonshine in the dark of night Our ‘Old Clem’ to keep us going, The centre of our Great Expectations  And as we says to her, Old Chap, That we forgives her, For not seeing how strongly we loved her All we meantersay’s our loves’s stronger See, sir, as we says goodbye to her, And tears fall hard on our crusted heart, As it buckets down on our soul, We’s softened all the more, Oh Pip, she we’ll ne’er forget  Nor will ever stop loving, For we knows, ‘Tis better to’ve loved her,  And love her still.         ...

Wonderings I wondered if the wall Had ears to hear, The thoughts of the heart, As it wondered I wondered if the bricks therein  Should in time break, and crumble At the beat and tick  Of this old timer I wondered if the steel therein  Should in time bend, and turn At the systole and diastole Of this machine I wondered if the sand, And concrete thereof  Should be tossed and whirled, By the pumping and sucking I wondered, over and over, If it had ears to hear, Will to obey, The command of this great master I wondered, if soon, It should be brought down And leave way, For this heart to live and thrive.                                           James Kaluna

I’ll dream for you  I finally perfected the beautiful art of dreaming... I see in the dark; I sleep when the light’s too bright I breathe as I swallow; I walk when I’m seated... I laugh when there’s every reason to cry; I cry when there’s every reason to laugh I run when no one’s chasing; I chase when no one’s running.. I drink from empty cups: The rain never stops. So you can count on me when you can’t find yourself... When the eyes won’t close When the world won’t shut When the fears won’t stop When the dreams won’t come; I’ll dream for YOU.                                                  James Kaluna

War with cold Today I was astir  Betimes before the sun, For I envied its might in warmth.  I rushed to the frigid outside To set the war, To drive away the cold,  That I had been confounded To take asylum from Within walls My heat cooled, I saw the mist rise with esteem As I effused warmth from within... The war I lost, And for contriving my liver puissant enough  To warm the atmosphere, I should be checked.                                        James Kaluna

Quite beautiful, the lights, Scintillating through and through Magnifying the joy within Simplifying those words I would have said, Quite beautiful, your dress, Reflecting by and by, An even greater beauty deep within, Unparalleled beauty, Inspiring these words I now write.                                               James Kaluna

Ooh the waves are not like my Father He that stands as He stood  He that is as He was He is not tossed by the wind  He is not brought back and forth No interchangeability is known to Him For His promise is true That He is the same yesterday, today and tomorrow  I do not doubt.                                               James Kaluna

In pursuit of greatness many have fallen, But only from a high place can one fall, And if falling be death, And I be agreeable to death So be it then  That I should live,  And in living fly to greatness So when it cometh that I should fall My fall hath be memorable.                                          James Kaluna

They stand solitary along the paths, waiting. I deem them patient and humane in this course. Their upper parts are wide and welcoming. As I watch hands unfeelingly plunge objects into them, I am tempted to search their feeling. They are places to dump waste; things that no longer matter. How awful they must feel to be a collection of the detestable, the rejected and the dejected.                                                James Kaluna

Of fire exits and extinguishers I had never seen the signs on the doors before I had never thought of them as ‘Fire Exits’  They were merely exits, and entries of course But now that they put the signs up, I’m terrified there’s going to be a fire For the signs warn of something that might happen...possibilities; The man thereof seems to me a prescient image of myself running. I had always thought of the extinguishers as toys Whenever I’d get time in the evening  I’d pick on one of them and release its roar into the empty space But now that the man seeks to ascertain their working, Their roars sound like cries against fire in my head Their redness of color reminds me of danger. “It’s just a safety measure.” “Where would the fire arise from?” ‘’We’ll start it ourselves!” Now I’m terrified of myself.                                        ...

Street boys I, wending homewards today,  Saw a reluctance to breathe in their faces As if each breath was a sting, As if each passing minute immured receipt of deserved repose; Repose from the world that didn’t seem to care; Repose from the shadows that were by the hour lengthening, And thus confirming their eccentric fate, To spend the frigid night outside doors that are with finality  Closed on them.                                         James Kaluna

Remember   Remember then when you invited us to your gatherings  And we came We heard all your raving  We heard all your babbling We cheered you on Remember when we allowed you to our weddings To celebrate with us When we allowed you to grieve with us in our funerals And even in these places, we still heard you We still cheered you on. Remember when we gave you time In our churches Time that belonged to a Mightier being  Hoping it is He that had sent you to lead us Even here we let you rave and babble Remember the long queues  In the scorching sun There where we stood patiently  Just to ensure it is you That gets there Remember the cheering, the celebrations  That we held The jumping and shouting The happiness When it was you that had won Remember then, in your tallness That thunder strikes the highest peak Remember, in arrogance That it is our hands that got you there Remember, the...

Broken pieces of me I walk behind you  You ask me if it is you I follow And no I say And no it is  For following you I stopped When my wholeness was broken When I could no longer hold on  For the bars all fell down, And the rivers that fueled that burning desire dried out. It is not you I follow. No It is the broken pieces of me Those that you drop each day When you look in my eyes with no remembrance of a goodly yesterday I pick them up, I gather them; And soon,  I’ll find the perfect tailor She’ll stitch ‘em up  And soon, These broken pieces of me Will be mended to a better wholeness.                                              James Kaluna 

Doorways home Hope when the night’s too dark; Warmth to a frigid mind; Consolation to a tearful eye; Scintillation to the deepest of secrets; Assurance of a place, solace and salubrious... Whose existence gladdens the heart; Forgives past sins: Promises better days; Ah!  Doorways home are the stars I see in your eyes.                                              James Kaluna