The Mill Pond Musings: October 2022

Wednesday, October 12, 2022

Outside Staring In

I suppose all lives struggle in vain

Some days of good, some days of pain

Some years enwrapped in community

Some years outside staring inward to see

Any single warm feeling of loving good

Any relationship sharing as it should

Any hope or joy, or gain, or thrill

And failing, many resort to drug or pill

Then life inside, or life without

No longer matters there is no doubt

For life has been drugged ‘neath insulated haze

And time flows by in lethargic daze

While time does flow, life does not

Opportunity is lost, confusion is bought

As the very joy and thrill so earnestly desired

Passes right by without love being sired

Drug fueled insulation cuts both ways

Marginalizes scary nights and joyful days

Odd though it sounds, pain actually serves us

It drives us forward with focus and purpose

If we can blunt it enough within our minds eye

We will see each opportunity as it passes by

And with opportunity seen, joy can be felt

So that we walk along with pain expelled

Night Hawks

Hear the night hawk’s eerie cry,

As he circles above in indigo sky,

A sound as lonely as the earth,

Has been since the day of its very birth

Searching each night for food and mate

Riding the thermals, tempting fate

And like that bird I search alone

Over landscape cold as barren stone

Voicing my own, heart-felt sigh

Echoing that lonesome eerie cry

New Moon

Quarter moon dances around a star

Stretching the distance it’s traveled thus far

Traveled a’weaving the fabric of dreams

Breathing them nearly to life it seems

Half-moon tentatively lights the sky

Tempting belief that I could fly

Soaring with wings spread wide above

Seeking, searching, finding love

Three quarter moon lights the corners, edges

Of dreams pursued, and friendship pledges

Drawing forth the intrinsic worth

Of my time allotted here on earth

The full moon shines down silvery frosts

Exposing my follies, highlighting the costs

Paid for the manner I chose to live

My soul poured through my being as through a sieve

New moon colors the night sky dark

Yet dreams of future and past are stark

Against the all-consuming black

Underscoring realities for what they lack

On a new moon I was born

On a new moon I shall die

Still seeking the truth

Still asking “Why”

Memories of Us

Days drag slowly across the exhalations of my life

Chaffing raw blisters that ooze the glistening energy

That once enriched each haphazard experience

And loving touch between you and I

In the constant waning of days,

Years have silently shredded through

The once expansive heart that beat just for the joy

Of drawing near to you once again.

Decayed and desiccated it no longer

Beats to thoughts of you,

memories of us, or tomorrows that

have never come and never shall.

Life Dances

Life feels forever beyond Youth’s grasp

Flitting away faster than sound

Out beyond seductive opportunity

While Life dances just beyond reach

Coveted adulthood comes to call

Imagination promises unfettered joys

Reality brings indefinable disappointments

While Life dances just beyond reach.

Careers and commitments demand

Sacrifice of freedom for survival

Pinning the spirit agonizingly in place

While Life dances just beyond reach

Until one day the end comes to call

In violent upheaval or sickness’ stealth

Or simply from accumulated exhaustion

And Life just dances off just out of reach

Wait not for ‘One day’ to come calling

Let not Life stay beyond your reach

Stretch and leap, and lunge for it

Dance with it, never mind your feet

For whether you’re a two-step champion

A waltz’er, prefer modern, rock, even Swing

It matters not how smooth you move your feet

Long as you live your life a’whirling

Just along for the ride

When I was but a young lad

I knew what I would be

Strong and wise and popular

As successful as could be.

A dentist with a big house

Boats and cars and toys

My “wife” already picked out

Three girls and two boys

Then suns flowed past

And sparkling days of blue

As did black starry nights

The moons phased through

Jobs and joys, and trials came

Til the day she left

From then til now, nothing the same

Except me, totally bereft

Ironing out the wrinkles

Each dawning day

Brought one certainty

At some time or other

A fight there’d be

I grew up tough

I grew up hard

Fists and elbows

Out in the yard

My palms grew broad

My knuckles thick

Shoulders wide

Popeye armed, not stick

No quarter asked

No quarter given

Until some flesh

Was split and riven

When blood freely flowed

A Truce was called

And peace was built

No parents involved

Day after day

Year after year

I tussled and fought

With Brothers dear

And each issue contested

Wasn’t won by arm’s length

But by determination, drive,

And character strength

In the wake of passing

Sixty years the wake has rolled

Sixty years my passing bold

Sixty years my life‘s been strong

Sixty years, I’m amazed how long

I’d not claim each and every one

Was filled with joy, filled with fun

Yet always my actions that have pained

Have been into my wake entrained

So that I have burned in memory

Those moments when I was “less than me”

The scars of which ride me day and night

Driving me on to make them right

Thus now I most often find I sit

Looking backward at the wake’s tumultuous split

Net in hand, and hook’d long pole

Watching for turbulent wounded soul

That I have run down, run over, and wrecked

Whether accidentally or intentionally decked

With net and pole I lunge away

To raise them back into the day

Sixty years the wake’s rolled by

Fifty years punctured by heart felt sigh

Forty years my life‘s increasing focus’ been

Paying back for yesterday’s sin

If You’d Honor Me.

When but a young lad, I dreamt of Vikings Bold

Who’d die in battle’s icy cold

Or knights and Kings, and glorious trials

To which I’d rise though it took all my wiles

I grew up in the wilderness grand

Far from society’s controlling hand

Where the rule of law was naught but strength

I lived more there than in civilization I think

I fished and hunted and went my way

Through many a year by adding up day to day

I lived richer out in wildland and mountain air

More responsibility was had and found out there

Now, my days are gone; I’ve lived my all

Age has come with its final call

My life’s been spent, though yearnings remain

I’ll miss my kin and the mountains twain

Mornings of chill and the calls of bird

Lightening in the sky with thunder heard

Clear cold waters dancing away

Creatures large and small at work and play

Once I’m gone, if you’d honor me,

Do it not in church, hall, or even city

Bring my ashes and my old worn hat

Out to the woods that’s where I’ll be at

Sit round a fire in friendship and storytelling time

Make up a yarn, sing a song, or recite a rhyme

Bake a pie, and cobbler too,

In cast iron hot, colored blackest blue

Share some spirits, be it Mead, wine, or grog

Park yourself for comfort against lying log

Let the flames bake my passing’s chill

Out of your breast as fire flames will

Once the flames have died to coals and ash

Spread me on the fire, which will be my last

Then drop my old worn hat on the glowing pile

That it may warm my head one last little while

Before I rejoin the elements of this earth

Those that I’ve borrowed since my day of birth

That I may repay for the wonders I’ve known

To the future of the wilds, the animals, the stone.

How the Sand Does Trickle

Sand may trickle through narrowed glass

Marking time as it slips on past

Each shifting print, left on sandy shore

Reminds us of where we’ve been before

But time like the wind and rising tide

Sweeps memory clear when they subside

And the youthful promise that once filled our veins

Has give’n in to life which slowly wains

And age will creep up, as experiences are bought

Til we find; sand may trickle, but time does not

Heartbeat

Heartbeats pound within my chest

Disturbing lonely nighttime rest

Crashing loud within my ears

Thrusting forth my varied fears

Flashing brilliant on smothering black

Damning my dreams for what they lack

Bringing me to face this world I made

By swinging my short and moral blade

At those who offered life and soul

To enrich mine, to make me whole

That I might live my life within

This silent world of clangorous din

Yet I refuse their offered breath

And so rushed onwaed toward lonely death.

Grieve No More For Me

Grieve no more for me

For I’m gone and surely free

Grieve not for my life surrendered

I’ve taken with me the joy it rendered

Grieve not for what I’ve left undone

I gladly hand it off to one

With more youth and vision than I

To paint anew the land, the sea, the sky

Full Moon

Full moon illuminates darkened world

Brightening shadows while etching

Open spaces glimmering silver hues

Nefariousness abhors shimmering beams

Questing into dark corners, burning sinister emotions

And highlighting unseen motives

Subtly, slowly, silver shades over

To the gray of first light

Slowly strengthening - making drab

Night’s elaborate vista’s.

Slipping slowly seaward

The full moon rests a moment

On distant seascape horizon

Before drowning in the deep cobalt

Tinged waters of the Pacific

Leaving lost souls and wounded beings

To the recuperative powers of the sun’s

Full warm rays of mending relaxation

Freed from the perils of darker night

And fouler beings who prey on the weak

While protected by nighttime’s oft worn masking cloak

Forty years ago

I was mortally wounded

In no day since

Have my eyes and my heart

my soul, and my intellect

my desires and my dreams

ever come together

again

Fire and Brimstone

Surrounded by the scent of

Fire and brimstone,

Closed in by darkness

Awash and alone

Stars and black voids

Swirl ‘round my head

Succumbing to loss

My limbs like lead

As the body abates

And the heart swells

I balance between Heavens

And fire washed Hells

The life I have lived

Less than I’d planned

Highlights my weakness

As glowing coal fanned

Aflame and alone

Darkness now spent

Fire and Brimstone

Surrounded by scent

I pass from this world

Into oblivion beyond

Wishing a return

To choice filled dawn

That I may reverse this

Hell damning throng

With one more chance

To right the wrong

Weights on the scale

Which judge my soul

And rebalance my days

That I may die whole

Evil and Untrue

The opening battles

of any war

are fought with fervor

and passion

Right and Might

and intertwined

Within the tumultuous

confused combatants

Either a quick victory

is attained

Or passion morphs

into attrition

Attrition inevitably forces

a protective withdrawal

And a stockpiling

of weapons and grievances

Until the entire currency

of the Soul

is given over to defense

and separation

And the body’s posture

And mind”s perceptions

Hold all else as evil

And untrue.

Essentially I Live Alone

I loved young and passionately

Immersed in family and community

Paid willing coin of life’s moments

While unbound partner seldom ventured

Into realms of future crafting

Remaining closed within herself

Now children grown and gone

Assume family and community mantle

As it has been and should always be

And so, I find my life described by

Commitment made to inward focused

Partner as un-assisting burden carried

Isolated by circumstance

Separated by commitment

Essentially I live alone

Dying Too Late

I made a good life, provided and cared

Washed and cleaned, fed and shared

Now Life burns lower each and every day

As my end draws near I hope and pray

May my children never have to find

I’ve lost my health, my will, my mind

May god, or fate, or chance that be

Allow me to die with full dignity

Before I fade in extent so great

By lasting too long; dying too late

Dancing in Memories Waters

You’re dancing in the still waters of my memories,

Tickling streams and currents of color and light,

Wavelets lap at the cloudy recollections,

Washing away the hazes that have slowly cast

O’er visions of you in the moonlight,

Glisteningly translucent as you lay bare

Skin rising heat-waves shimmer of scents

Which buoy my lungs and sink my heart,

Drawing tears within my eyes, threatening to

Dissolve the last view of the evaporating footprints

You left behind while discarding my life.

Clamp Down on Pounding Heart

In nighttime’s creeping shadows

Loneliness can be found

Padding along on silent feet

Moving without sound

Empty house’s echoes

Bounce hollow in the ear

Raising small hairs of neckbone

Shivering soul with fear

Hear the creaking floor boards

Beware room’s sudden chill

Scratching on the window pane

Surely bodes ill will

Somewhere in your distant past

You’ve wronged another being

And in the lonely nighttime hours

They return for full reckoning

So lie as still as death yourself

Clamp down on pounding heart

Plead for your forgiveness now

And in time they may depart

Christmas Is Here

Christmas is here.

In the chill of

The December air

Morning and night

Christmas is here.

In the spirits of

The children, and

The hustling crowds

Christmas is here.

In the sweet smell of pine

Wherever you go, and

The sight of mistletoe

Christmas is here.

For the tree is in

Each special ornament

Hanging just so

Christmas is here.

Bunting and ribbons

Statues and lights

Carolers out in the chill night

Christmas is here.

In the only place

That matters

In our hearts

Sunday, October 9, 2022

Christmas Became

Christmas once was color,

sounds,

and scents,

and excitement.

Then it evolved to,

toys,

and candies,

and wonder.

Moving on to include

hoping,

and sharing

and togetherness.

Before becoming

costly,

and stressful,

and somehow disappointing.

Finally morphing into

secret deeds

and anonymous gifts

and soul-enriching satisfaction

Back to Livermore

I’ve been away for days and years

Gone for seasons, having left with tears

Though over time my tears have dried

“You can’t go home”; well, heck, I tried

My home town once so small and quaint

Has grown until, well, small it ain’t

The fields where I went on many hikes

Now houses, kids, and electric bikes

The single main street, highway it was

Is cut up, half blocked, “modern”, abuzz

With cafes and boutiques, shop and store

Offering what self-respecting cowboy never wore

The Value Giant exists no more

It’s now an Army Surplus store

That has within not a single thing

That ever heard service men’s boot heels ring

The old flag pole is long down and gone

A new one stands up to meet morning’s dawn

But that’s okay cause gone then too

Are three bullet holes fired straight and true.

The house I grew in, once clean and neat

Seems now from a ghetto movie set on the street

Orange, purple, tan and black

Lawn is gone, as well as the trees out back

Two blocks over the High School yields

Hundred Fifty year old building, lots and fields

Lots are gone, fields are as well

Covered in new buildings, and new school bell

Starks Bargain House once treasure filled

Gone as certain as if it had been killed

And just as dead the old train depot

That serves croissant now as a dinner roll

Baranass’ Pond dried up when I went to look

No fish to tempt with baitless gold hook

And where the ancient vineyards once gripped the ground

No hundred year old burls are left to be found

Cement bridge where bikes once raced on wood

And arroyos’ now concrete for “community good”

Homes and businesses line Vasco, our old drag strip

No memories left here, just not worth the trip

A Safeway’s where once homemade cannon roared

Tall buildings where once barn owl soared

Gone the freedoms my youth flexed without fear

Never understanding then all freedom’s so dear

Rail lines moved, and now with underpasses

Allowing constant movement for all the masses

Who are in too great a hurry now anyways

For the gentle pace of my bygone days

So the parks are idle, lonely, and quiet

The pigeons emaciated, on forced diet

The once green lawns covered in yellow flower

Call me back to how late is the hour

My tour is done, no friend’s been found

Around this once pleasant country town

Gone to hell as so many before

Changed forever by “civilization’s roar”

So I’ll give up the chase and leave my dreams

To morph into whatever future deems

I’ll come back to this city now nevermore

Seeking my old childhood’s treasured Livermore

At least this can be said of me

When my life is over and I am done

Whether I’ve lost or whether I’ve won

At least this can be said of me

I lived my life, my way and free

I lived my life as I saw fit

Never a care for fads, not a bit

I set my standards hard and fast

Young perhaps, but they did last

Then somewhere along the path of deeds,

I lost my footing on fear that breeds

Within the soul of working man

Thus cutting me off from the human clan

Left fragile I struggled to carry my load

Sacrificing no part of my chosen code

I still reached out as time allowed

To others who staggered in the crowd

And I offered my arm, worn but strong

To keep them upright and moving along

By giving my arm, our combined strength

Carried us over the road’s full length

I shared with one, I shared with all

Whether the last of my food, or violent brawl

And though the sharing added to my plight

I kept at it each day and night

So that now as I stand at death’s front door

Worn and tired, exhausted and sore

At least this can be said of me

I lived my life, my way and free

On The River

I walked down by the river,

One bright and shiny day

To see what all the fuss was

Cane poles whipping every which way.

One person that I spoke with

Said: we’re casting flies you know

Except Barry there in the tree shade

Who’s tying flies for us to throw

So I wondered what kind of man “ties flies”?

And just what does he tie them to?

And if they weren’t tied down tight

Just to where would it be they flew?

And if he ties them careful

Posed exactly right

Can he then offer a guarantee?

That a nice fat trout will strike?

And once struck with flashing colors,

Would the trout jump high and wide

Or simply spit out bound up fly

And back into the depths subside?

Alone

Alone…

I Live

Alone…

I Cry

Alone…

I Love

Alone…

I’ll Die

After Parenting

What pray tell should life become

With setting of child rearing’s sun

Shall life remain moored as in bearing years

Or cast adrift to seek new cheers

As father I wore a certain coat

As parent I captained a specific boat

That carried goods and goals and needs

Provided grain and eggs and feeds

Before that time though I did stand

On a different path across this land

My coat then made of leather tough

To protect me from adventures rough

Old siren calls of places, things

Remain in memory as clarion rings

Urging me to cut the chains that moor

Take aim for far gone distant shore

To seek new life in what’s left of my days

Thus to impact in as many ways

The world around; to betterment make

And to repay the resources that I did take

© Copyright 2018, Marty Vandermolen, All Rights Reserved

A Grandfather’s Advice

Build a library

Stocked with old and new

Build with stories

And ideas true

Build it strong

Against winter’s wrath

Build it light

To illuminate the path

Build it cool

For hot, arid days

Build it restful

To shed stressful ways

Alice and her adventures

In Wonderlands

Pooh and Tiger

Where 100 acre wood stands

Peter Rabbit’s, lost coat

And the farmer’s fence

And every story told,

Before and since

Magic and fantasy

And fiction’s pull

Harness their wonders

Inspire your soul

Read each day

Translate

Wednesday, October 12, 2022

Sunday, October 9, 2022