Brottby, Sweden.

Hallemah's Eyes

Understanding hits
like a cold tub of water,
thrown by ill-intentioned hands,
Splashing onto a shivering body,
left outside, in a Nordic winter,
When my enthusiasm awakened
to cold outside world,
Where youthful idealism
encounter harsh reality
of cruel world-

My joy, swatted like a fly,
Smarts at undignified disregard,
Here in cockpit of hardy existence;
These internecine pits of daily existence,
Where ashy drips of disheveled joy drape on sagging shoulders, dropping,
Strands of uneven drips of ashy emotions streaming,
Cut across serrated emotions in disarray-

Vultures ungainly straddling across human dump heap,
Funereal raven mockingly cackling, croaking in disinterested disregard,
At perturbed masses in passage-

What happened to joy of youth,
That in innocence reveled in simple joys of life revealed?-

In our times, in these times,
Pitted humans in pits dug to ensnare,
Cast nets in full sight of their preys,
Pits of human misery dug out with avid enthusiasm
To drown unwary, prancing,
Waiting on edge of uneven grounds,
Ravens cackling, croaking-

Panting anticipation,
Tugged from beneath in spitting glee,
Fervor unleashed ,
A thrust of rusted spears, cast to pierce ,
Wounding mortally,
As drops of sorrow pock mark spots,
Of demise into pits dug to ensnare-

What happened to yesterday's dreams
Of belief in something worthwhile?
What things are worth anything,
Other than pieces of bits of metals;
Pieces of colored paper?-

Maturity like a desert exposed,
Brings sorrows of mighty sand storms
Blasting across exposed emotional zones,
Left uncovered, when innocence's cloak
Is hastily cast aside by meaningless time;
Changing tides of recurrent cold waters,
Misery dispensed in variations unyielding,
Illusions of some poorly discerned dissipating hope,
Disappearing in cold light of maturity's morn,
Like cold, frozen waters, cutting edge of winter's morn-

Frozen smiles forgotten on some lost soul's face,
Steadily twisting into grimaces of anguish,
In these times,
Where is joy hidden?
In these times?-

Not in my emptied out heart,
Clanging bell of rusted iron,
Dimly echoing its sorrows
Ringing in subdued tones
Down these long, lonely corridors
Channels of lonely passages
Not in awakened states of stale reality
Denuded of all joy-

I have sought for love among emotionally dead,
Heaped on ash heaps of human despair,
Desperate in their wickedness,
Sated on their concoctions of evil intents,
Bitter fare dispensed with glee,
Amidst these corruption dissolving in its putrefaction
Amidst its unimaginable vice and avarice-

Vultures cocky in ungainly gait strutting
Flitting over these human dumps,
These deceptions of bitterness, poisoning-

Mockery is an art form perfected,
In this vast emotionless desert,
Of natural affection turned on its back;
Turtle of life turned on its back,
Bizzaredly flinging its stunted limbs,
In furtive efforts to regain balance,
In glare of un-appreciative audience
Of never tiring mockery
In places bereft of love-

There is no love left here;
Mockery is a veil thinly disguising disgust,
Of self and others,
Unending sorrow,
Tears sprung forth from ducts lacerated by anguish,
Streaming lava flow,
Running amidst these desecrated masses,
Of ravaged humanity-

Stripped of shields of illusory protection,
Of maternal love shielding from a harsh reality,
Trust without so much buffer into a thorny reality,
Of existence defined in these internecine pits of avarice,
Backtrack on fading paths,
Seeking to retrace into memories domains,
To re-read fading signposts of life,
Never quite finding signposts,
On these illusory paths,
Pointing to a certain future-

A storm is building far from beyond,
My placid visage dare its strength not anticipate,
Amassing particles of fragility,
Defining a front of energy inconceivable,
Pushing to fore,
Bearing on home port,
In my eyes are mirrored changing scenarios,
Of misery that in its variety is constant; sorrow,
Sorrows beach head set in the path of mighty winds of change,
Bearing,
Were I, the master architect, having a hand in defining these winds of change,
These reminders of awesome power,
Cooked amidst sublime nature,
Then, would I have positioned myself,
Set in the eye of this ravaging storm,
In calm eye of ravaging nature-

Part II

My mind is enamored in a gaze of infinite peace,
A Deep calm resolve, unnerving,
I see a new world of hope in your calm visage,
Your big brown orbs ringed in purest white,
Could these orbs mirror a hope,
Of things that have lost their true value,
In places sunken in the downside of life's
Pleasantness?

Hallemah, has the biggest, brownest eyes in Kentucky,
Out of the depth of those eyes,
Flow a river of awareness,
Mighty presence of dense emotions,
Unleashed in a single look,
Sad eyes,
Re-assuring gaze conveying
A thousand meanings in a silent look-

Eyes that speak man's history,
In a single look into those deep brown eyes
Of gentle emotions,
Is one transported beyond time and place,
Into an ancient ocean of emotion's storehouse,
Into depths of ancient seas,
Out of great depths, gently buoyed to fore,
Life's stories are detailed in every glance,
Unfathomable dispensation of grace
From ancient origins,
Offered yet never taken but by a few,
For the many who cannot see beyond captivating allure of empyrean gaze,
Holding spell bound in its hypnotic gaze,
Ensnared at first irreverent glance,
Caught in grip of ancient knowledge-

Hallemah's gaze glaze inner turbidity,
Of bruised soul
Sailing from far beyond,
In fluidity of momentarily displacement,
Feelings undefined,
Weighty emotions aroused,
Heavy on mind
Unrefined coagulation amassed
Finding expression from further reaches,
A front defining itself
Emerging from far places-

In inner ocean's depth
Fragile composites coalescing in a mighty storm,
Forming far from known shores-

Far from my world,
Stellar eyes advocating ancient wisdom,
Birthing inspiration in a glance,
Encased in fertile mind of youth,
Spurring inspiration upon a captive audience,
Held spell bound in a stare -

Could you be symbolic Mother Earth,
Birthing renewal through recurring hope ?
Awakening from long drought
Dessicated limbs of dried-out trees,
Caught in shrinking vice of dried-out and drying stream beds,
Whose cracked clay squeeze life out at craggy edge?-

Could your solemn gaze,
Be the rod of inspired arrogance,
Striking rock of despair in Sinai's desert of lack?
Here in these emotional voids,
Lie scattered dried bones,
Of armies brought down,
Piteous mockers reveling in their ignorance,
Even in death their grin a grimace foreboding,
Stretch taut across whitened bones,
Skulls colorless in their whitish abhorrence-

Strike with full force rock of unrequited hope,
Inspired by divine ordination,
Grapple from pale destruction's hold,
Grip over life,
Let gush forth into absorbing stream beds,
Replenishing floods of life, in abundance,
Let love gush forth, hope, joy, appreciation,
In praise find a cause to celebrate,
Life and Life's giver,
Like a blazing log fire
Breaking cold wintry's death grip,
Even, it were for a moment-

In this desert,
Seemingly bereft of life,
Let renewal in hope reborn spring forth,
In gushing springs
Let spring forth,
Rebirth-

Part III

Hallemah's eyes, are sad brown eyes,
Eyes heavy in their sad beauty,
Through those beautiful brown eyes,
Have you per chance seen more than you ought?
In seeing, have you seen things that feed the hungry soul searching,?
Have you seen the soul delighted by wondrous fare most pure?
Have you seen the northern lights,
Lyrics of heavens choir scrolling above the further reaches of the earth?
Has your big brown eyes seen exploding novas of stars,
proclaiming mighty presence in things greater than conceivable,
Have your eyes perceived the birth places of stars in pillars of cold hydrogen?
have you seen a child's laughter sparkling,
Haloed presence of God amidst frail human lot?-

Have you seen whole forests sing grand overture to the dying year adorned in autumn's colors most golden?
Per chance you saw the birds of the Amazon;
paraquets, displaying splendor beyond compare
flit from bough to branch,
You of lustrous eyes becalming,
Per chance you have looked over the side of a cruise ship and seen glassy depths of caribbean seas, crystal clear as polished glass,
Feasting your eyes on pristine shores of far removed islands.
Have you seen tender love sprouting,
In fecund fabled soils of the Upper Nile,
Looking into ancient halls of knowledge sprouting forth new meaning?-

In seeing, do you still believe,
That there is something; a thing
Worthy to live for?
In seeing all these are you propelled forth,
With renewed hope in faith inspired,
Sowing seeds of life in dry places re-watered ?

Do you see the evening of life,
On an Appalachian hillside cabin;
Ancient rounded hills suffuse with life benign,
Watching the sun of life set over orange skies,
In places so peaceful, Heaven were but a stepping stone away?

Oh, how I long for a companion like you,
A pillar of strength set in the light of God,
A tree planted by the waters of life eternal,
Fed and feeding,
One to brighten my world of gloom and despair,
Touch me with light of fires blazing,
Ignited from ancient sources,
Give rebirth to a thing of beauty,
Easily discarded that sustains,
Love of life in a world devoid of life's love,
Touch, and heal, these wounds of carrion birds,
Deep flesh wounds rive from tender flesh,
As though the dead and living had been cast on dump heaps of human waste,
In their stead, nourish in love,
Replenish and soften hard grounds of lost affections,
With living waters flourishing-

Part IV

I have tried to see hope through my dim eyes,
Eyes that have lost their lustre,
Through its bleary disillusion,
Of hope lost in a world decadent and corrupt in its vice, Mockery of all things beautiful,
I see through my blurry teary sorrow,
What I imagined to be colors most beautiful,
These dispersion of light scattered, diffused,
By non sustaining salt waters dripping from tear ducts violated,
Colors of light not of life at play in vibrant display,
Momentarily beautiful,
Yet, every time I wipe my bleary eyes,
Reality is the stark landscape of hope depleted in these exploited fields-

Through your eyes, maybe,
I might see a new vision,
Of new worlds,
Perhaps of joys unknown,
Of hearts untainted ,
By the corruption from beneath
That in touching, sullies all,
A smile uncontaminated by vile mockery,
Perhaps, through your eyes-