The Greatest Story (for Lainey)

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The Greatest Story (for Lainey)


She has passed and reviewed pyramids, in the City Of The Dead,
Saw a time of order, where the sun never set on British soil;
She shook her head sadly at the The Seven Years War, it is said,
At the folly of those who proclaim "Sovereign" as nations toil.


It is spoken, she views through a globe of glass on a base of gold,
Centuries past, present and future, as seen through her Stoic eyes:
Reciprocity as sleight of hand, alliances and treaties are sold,
With no esteem or regard, for life and death, birth and demise.


Those who would seek a brave new world, she knows, can't go back;
"Villains in their lodges speak of repose but poison the watershed.
Loose associations with warrior societies... to run the same track,
Is as discordant as a call to order in a gold rush," so she said.


Those who might say, "We are unbreakable, beautiful and young,"
They don't talk to strangers, seeing their one life as perfect,
No thoughts of dying to live again, regret never on their tongue.
It is said when the word gets out, they will regret their neglect.


It is said, in prophecy, passed along in hushed tones, through ages,
There is one who will appear, and she will speak from her station,
As empires merge, canals surge, oft in the distance, from her pages,
With no regard for stratification, hierarchy, caste or affirmation.


Many forewarned along the way, saw this as a pocket full of dreams.
The enlightened, with open hearts and eyes, see dreaming's for sleeping;
A closed mind cannot fathom a concept of sink or swim; what seems
Conscription to one is convention to other, and worth keeping.


The time she will rise and step from her realm may well be at hand;
An epoch where the rainbows vibrant colors will fade and dissipate.
Discord demands, it is time for her to sentence, to display her brand,
When her gaze will turn from her snow globe, repairing to collate.


Some, granted audience, will be in the company of those they hold dear;
Others will be found, in the throng, as wanderers on the open road;
The faithful who seek her out, see her visage as shelter, to appear,
When she emerges from her hiding place of recompense, her humble abode.


Should all who witness, know in advance, I am not compelled to say,
But I believe, all things are revealed, especially in a last call;
Who it is that stands before them, holding steadfast in her sway,
Will be made apparent in the end, if not the outset, to one and all.


I hope to stand before her, when she shares the greatest story ever told;
Would, in the end, I be so fortunate as to be counted among her friends.
What was semblance and mirage will manifest, ours to see and hold.
Until this day dawns, even she does not know how the story ends.


Michael Todd  (2013)


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NOTE: As I was writing this poem, I was listening to Loreena McKennitt's "The Emigration Tunes." The cello player is Caroline Lavelle, who also performs as a solo act. She is my favorite cello player. If you want to get the full effect of the poem, from my humble perspective, listen along to this track, as you read.


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cHXi2KNBhEY


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Riffing with Lainey

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Riffing with Lainey



Love is like a Beatles Song....


Perhaps all our ideas of love, start from books
Grow from sappy songs that spark fanciful dreams and ideals
I always imagined that attraction came within piercing looks:
Knights on white horses falling head over heels.


And while those daydreams haven't all come true,
There is one thing, one belief, in which my fantasies
Have been proven, one thing that I would swear to,
The reality of heart, one truth in which everyone agrees.


And that is; true love will burn in you like fire,
Will keep you warm, make you comforted, and protected.
Your world will turn empty and cold should it expire...
Biting again, and again every time your heart is rejected.


Because love consumes your mind, your heart, your soul-
But then in doing so, it makes you whole.


All you need is love~


written by : Elaine


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Spinning



A carousel horse can't change his course, doesn't see the need;
He is going to hell in a hand basket (just a figure of speech).
This breed fails to see the need, spiraling, in locked speed;
Consider, perhaps there comes a moment to teach, avoid impeach?


I am unabbreviated etcetera, in as much, the ultimate so and so,
Noting in my way, there is nothing on display, to break my fall.
Consequence: turbulence; cast fate to whims of change in escrow
Over the top and smash it up, or hit the brakes: a margin call?


All the things you said: At face value folly, appearing distant;
What makes me so quick to fend off with logorrhea and dissent?
I can't say, or I won't, but I know: Your voice is a constant.
Should be obvious by now, truth lies in your advice and consent.


My intricate flaws, as you deduce, reduced to a simple design:
Guage Northern lights to southern stars and please, toss me a lifeline.


All I need is you~


Myke



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Disclaimer: For anyone not familiar with the term "Riffing," that is what we call responding to a poem with another poem. I have done this often, over the years with Elaine aka Lainey, who is not only my bestie, but my favorite writer in the realm. Getting to share her poem here, is a high point for me.

The Meaning of Namaste (Sonnet for Marcy)

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The Meaning of Namaste (Sonnet for Marcy)


Those we meet, who take us to new places,
Make us feel part, not along for the ride;
Who leave indelible marks, in traces
ever apparent on impact, in stride.


Exuding verity, with no remorse,
With meanings clear and diverse, not implied;
Freely unwavering, with subtle discourse,
The same at face value, or lantern slide.


Sometimes deep, often eccentric; hands dealt,
Tendered with veracity; eyes open wide
would make any heart, including mine, melt;
Any doubts at this point, cast aside.


Leading me to this place, here now to say,
I now know the meaning of Namaste.


Michael Todd  (2013)


Written for and dedicated to Marcelina Boudebes.

Taking A Break

Taking A Break



Step to the mic, on the road, at largest venue we have performed,
As often as I've sung this song, you'd think, no cause for alarm;
Reality never seems to set in, as I navigate the first verse,
Knowing full well, when I step away, the feeling only gets worse.


This song is about a first love, the one I let slip out the door.
Each time I sing it, it takes me back, seems to hurt a little more.
Second stanza, once cloudy when written, more focused, now I find,
Once the chorus slides in, harmony helps to easy my weary mind.


But when the band members step to the spotlight, each one takes a turn,
I'm standing in the shadows, dealing with lessons I have learned.
Each looks at me, as they perform, hoping the singer will approve,
I nod my head, give them a grin, trying to get back in the groove.


The guitar guy has been with me for years, he knows what going on,
The fiddle player's heard all the stories: coming, going and gone.
The bass and drum pair, take pains to get it right, in their own little world,
The steel guitar man we hired for this tour, never even heard of the girl.


I guess I shouldn't complain or cry in my beer, success is now at hand,
My song is on the radio, I'm on the road with this really fine band,
Studio producers, and the A&R men, swear to heaven I've got what it takes,
They see my melting down as having soul, when the band is taking their breaks.


I may write a hundred songs, as I move along, with what they call a career,
But I'll never have another, as long as I live, where the meaning is so clear.
When I'm in a crowd, I make it okay. When I'm alone I consumed with fear.
She who left me her heart surely won't mind, if you sit down, lend me an ear.


One day I'll get to a place, where reality's skewed, I will fail to see,
What the true intent was when I wrote this song, what it meant to me.
And if I practice real hard, at bending a string, who knows what I'll do,
I may take a break in an encore, forgetting who it was that made me blue.


Michael Todd  (2013)