Take the space

It’s been a while… 🙂
I was recently talking with a friend and was reminded how much I enjoy writing poetry and how it can speak to me (and hopefully to others)… I hope you enjoy!

Take the space

Where you live and breathe

To be the you this world needs

Take the space

To embrace, that you,

Not the shell of you,

You are here for being

A representation of love

That no one else can be

Take the space

And embrace the love of self

You need

To be

The expression of love

To those you embrace

Those you encounter

The impact of which

You may never see

Or know

But that’s ok

Take the space

Stephen Kellogg – 2023

Waiting for thought – Response poem

Today I recalled the fun I’ve had in the past creating response poems to poems others have written. I looked back a some and decided to head to whimsy~mimsy‘s blog for inspiration… I was not disappointed. This doesn’t feel quite as much like a “response” than inspired by… Read her poem here: Waiting for hot water

Waiting for thought

Sitting, blue flames
Scorch
My mind’s eye

Guarding thoughts ripped off
Slide
Just above conscious surface

Tiny circles
Brain
The fodder

Peaceful thoughts
Cling
To my minds edge

Two corners bend up
Sides
Of your lips

 

Stephen Kellogg – 2018

Missed Connections – Poem

I’ve had opportunity, the past couple of weeks, to spend many hours in a coffee shop. As I often do, I’ve observed the comings and goings of people, things they do etc. Today it struck me how benches at tables in the shop “turn-over” and over and over with folks sitting in the same place as the person before… a shared connection that they don’t realize. And, if moments aligned slightly one way or the other, and if people were more open to it, there could be shared connection, opportunity to meet someone new, possibilities to learn, share and grow, if only for a few minutes.

Missed Connections

A causeway of connections missed
Unknown to those that use it
As their spirit breezes in
Oblivious to the fact that just moments before
Someone else departed
Spirt drifting back out to the wind.

These moments
If altered only by a few
Joined in the bench across the way
Could form connections
Where paths that cross, but miss
Sometimes daily
Could do more than share a fleeting warmth.

Moments, instead of gliding by
Might combine into something meaningful
Shared space and time
In that cosmic air
Where worlds align.

Peace,

Stephen Kellogg – 2018

Handle Beauty – Haiku

Haiku based on a photo I took:

Handle Beauty Photo (Full size photo link to my photo blog)

Sometimes we see the
Handle that needs to be turned
Sometimes the beauty

Stephen Kellogg – 2018

If there is thunder – Poem

If there is thunder

If there is thunder rolling
Bring on the lightening
Let the winds whip up
Stinging rain

If there is thunder booming
Bring the flashing light of your eyes
Let your voice rise up
Bring on my tears

If there is thunder clapping
Shine the spotlight with my heart
Let healing words come forth
Tears falling down your cheeks

If there is thunder
The sun will shine again
Bring on the healing rain
Let new growth come forth

Peace,

Stephen Kellogg – 2018

The Park Train – Poem

A few weeks ago I had the privilege of meeting my mom at the park. We sat and talked and walked around a bit.

I took this photo of the train there… When my kids were much younger, they would come to the park, ride the rides, walk around and … ride the train. It’s been here blowing it’s whistle (which I can hear from the house) and carrying passengers for… forever.

I decided to write a little poem about it.

The Park Train

Where once I’ve gone I’ll go again
The tracks on which I stay
Bend round the curve and back again
No varied path I stray

Both young and old come to ride
I carry them on my way
Smiles and laughter, waves goodbye
As they listen to my whistle play

Fall will come, October time
All hollows eve it seems
They’ll decorate, kids will ride
You’ll likely hear their screams

Snow will fall as winter comes
With holiday party cheer
Crowds will slow and drift to homes
I’ll ready for next year

Spring arrives, new birth found
Whistle, bell and gear
Soon enough, neighbor’s round
Toot toot, they will hear

Stephen Kellogg – 2018

I’ll wait – Poem

On occasion, I’ll put in headphones, listen to some music and write a poem specific to that song. It’s expected to be read to the music so I also have to work out the timing. I wrote this poem to two songs that were written to go together. Last night I was listening to a playlist and the following songs came on. The first song from the album hit me and I started to write a poem, but in the play list it ended abruptly and didn’t feel right. So I went to the album and found out it is paired with the second song and doesn’t really end abruptly, it just flows right into the next.
They are from the Album:
Yo-Yo Ma Plays Ennio Morricone (Remastered) By Ennio Morricone, Yo-Yo Ma 2004 (with Ennio Morricone, Yo-Yo Ma, Roma Sinfonietta)

Which, having looked for a link on YouTube (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XISBJ-MJ0HI) I have discovered the songs are originally from a movie (The Mission – 1986 with Robert De Niro, Jeremy Irons and many more).

Here it is the album on Spotify https://open.spotify.com/album/1ZReq7RYxh0d0IqLONfBHk?si=_PNwzqqwRk-74RELhmn2JA

It’s a wonderful album and I highly recommend it.

I also suggest trying to write poetry to music. Not just while listening to music, but a poem matched to a specific song. It’s also been rewarding to write poetry to a painting or photo.

I hope to read this to the music soon and when I do, I’ll post it on SoundCloud and provide a link. Until then, I hope it stands on its own.

Disclaimer: This may not work well… if you’ve seen the movie (which I will be watching soon)

Wow this intro is long… so, on to the poem:

I’ll wait

(1^st song – The Mission: Gabriel’s Oboe)
Stepping on to the porch
Sliding into my old rocking chair, I stare
Screen door creaks closed, shiver reminds me it’s biting cold
Snowflakes twirl lazily around, looking down at the cobblestone
Bare spots where they can dance
You can almost hear their pirouette’s as they cozy up to the ground
I wait patiently,
And then not
For that sound, hooves clip clopping along
Stones bracing to support the weight of horse and carriage
Silence
Breath caught by the wind
I settle in to the blanket wrapped around
No sound
And through it all, silence sings
Bare branches sway to the tune
Listening to the deafening sound
As snow, trees and silence dance on
I sit
Rocking chair squeezing sound from the porch
As I lean forward straining once again to hear
The thought of you, your smile, eyes, your stare
The smell of your hair
I wait
Storm brewing, and you
On the road tonight
Be careful my love
Wind stirs, drawing heavy-laden clouds from the west
Sun doing it’s best to paint the evening sky
Clouds grow heavy, darkness settles in
Where are you
I thought you’d be here by now
Patience my heart
Snow
Silence
Trees

(2^nd song – The Mission: The Falls)

Clip clop, clip clop,
I raise my gaze, strain my ears
Clip clop, clip clop
A carriage rides the breeze
Is it you
Clip clop, clip clop
A little louder now,
Bringing you home to me
A vision breaks through the dancing snow
Round the drive you come
Horses trudging on
Making new lines for the drifting snow to cover
My love you’ve come at last
Carriage mouth yawns
You fall, into my arms, laughing
Come quickly, before the night storm
Come quickly, we’ll warm by the fire
Passing time, sipping wine and more
You grab my hand, hold me still
Pulling me in to wrap the blanket around us both
Face to the sky
You smile
Dancing snow
I’ll wait

Stephen Kellogg – 2018

The wolves are losing their bite – Poem

The wolves are losing their bite

It’s their next try, the cry, sending howls ripping through the woods of your heart
You freeze, cracks booming across the frozen lakes of your eyes
Years of buffer built against the pain, the why
Tears threating, once again breaking through, pushing past the pain of letting rivers flow
Cries and howls triggering night frights of long ago
When wolves had teeth, and bites sunk deep, all in the name of love

Now, most teeth have long dropped out, as they wait, in autumn
For earth to take the final taste and swallow them whole
Their only play left, visitation rights, longing to sink teeth once more
Feel the power of control, make things “look right” in the site of the Lord

So, they play, holding visits at bay while howls sound again in your mind
Their delusioned vortex spins round
Traipsing her about so they can play good little girl and boy
Sucking in family, young and old, deceptive ploys on the road
Texas bound, pictures sound with crashing voice

Wait it out or fight for hugging rights, though the last fight was on unknown ground
Pounded by falsehoods, ambiguity, lies, the sting of old pack members prying eyes
Cutting of cords, slicing of lines, curled up on the shower floor
Self-denial on their part doesn’t understand, those cords don’t bind
Forced reconciliation, as visitation demands, can never be true
Diluted fantasies held when religion is bent for their own design

Will they ever understand, ever come around, I’ve long thought no
Their paths run deep, eyes have grown shut, hearts cold
Shrouded by self-justification and religious dope, a warped meaning of God’s love
That root runs deep, and aging wolves are not likely to embody their sheep cloaks
The wool pulled tightly over their eyes, false hope

Strength to you and your sister clan, though one precious soul remains in their grip
She too has fought, in her own way, to free herself from their claim
Physical outbreaks, voicing of pain or going within to talk to friends
I trust her day will come, you’ll be together, time will mend
A new way, without required attempts at uniting the (un)whole pack
Strength to you all, the trapped and the not
The wolves are losing their bite, the earth is starting its yawn

 

Stephen Kellogg – 2018

Flow – Poem

Flow

It’s there under the surface
Roiling, boiling
Sometimes showing only as a light fog
Over the depths of water

Words, thoughts
Feelings loading up their back legs
Preparing to pounce

If only

You’d pick up a pen
Grab some paper
Some tunes
Or the quiet of a dark room with candle light

It’s there, the thought
Waiting patiently, sometimes not
To bleed out on paper
Giving it’s all to express

To give voice to the panther
Black, sleek and fully loaded
Muscles exploding into action
Pen struggling to keep up

It’s there, but won’t always push its way out
Sometimes you have to let it
It’ll spring load itself time and time again
But sometimes you have to act
Triggering that automatic response called

Flow

Stephen Kellogg – 2015

Coma – Flash Fiction 100 words

A friend of mine has been writing some flash fiction. I thought it’d be fun to give it a try and stretch my writing elsewhere for a minute…

Now back to my regularly scheduled work on my novel… 🙂

I hope to make a splash back here off and on while I continue working on my book.

—

COMA

John, can you hear me? Her voice trickled through like a drip from the kitchen sink.

Eyes won’t open, muscles try but he just can’t make it happen.

Beep, beep, beep the familiar sound brought him near the surface again. He wanted to get up, tell the world he was here, grab his family and go, but he couldn’t break through.

John, it’s Friday, the kids and I are headed to the park.

Mom, here’s dad’s coffee.

Set it on the coffee table, I don’t think he’ll be joining us.

John, rolled over on the couch, modern day coma consumed.

Stephen Kellogg – 2015