Tag Archives: poem

The Top

27 Dec

The Top

By L. Stewart Marsden

What was good at the time,

after time,

was not.

An illusion of thought,

ill-gotten hope and dream,

that spun like a top,

and careened through and over and around until,

finally,

it wound down to tip upon its side.

Then, with pride in hand,

realizing now what then was good is not,

I turn unto another hope,

another dream,

and know that what now seems to be

might wind down just as ultimately

to tip upon its side.

Copyright © by Lawrence S. Marsden, 27 December, 2014
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The Hen House

19 Dec

The Hen House

By L. Stewart Marsden

 

They prattled, rattled, clucked and parried –

Yet none were bedded, none were married;

And all their eggs, collected daily,

Served to kings and queens and more

On silvered platters, gaily garnered;

Sprigged with parsley, tarragon;

Yet none increased their nest nor home,

Were doomed to scratch and peck and roam

In dusty yards with fenced-in views

Until their necks were cut clean through

For Sunday’s after-worship dinner.

 

Copyright © by Lawrence S. Marsden, 19 December, 2014

Happen-chance

9 Dec

Happen-chance
by L. Stewart Marsden

Happen-chance, say you;

Falldee-roo, say I,
Poppycock and Hookums,
and all the Bally-hoos
I can muster
to countermand this cluster
of unbelieving fools!

You know not what you say,
You posture and you play
With hypotheses
That make me laugh
and wheeze
till on my knees I’m forced to fall
and wonder at the very gall
you’ve wretched from all your
semblances of knowing,
Growing from your molded minds.

Happen-chance?
Like day and night
and Summer, Winter
Spring and Fall and all the
many ordered acts
you count to be.

Happen-chance?
You look but do not see,
Listen, but you never hear
the truths whispered near to your ear,
and fear that if it’s not by chance
you will, perchance,
have to recant your
lodged belief in agony and grief.

But for now you remain,
however the same:
still clinging
still ringing
still singing
Happen-chance.

The Explore

13 Oct

The Explore
by L. Stewart Marsden

“I think that I’ll explore today,”
so donned my breeches, shirt and boots;
snatched my stick and sack of loot;
and propped my hat upon my head
then happily took the trail.

Descending from my mount’nous lair
and stepping down a mossy stair
I came into a valley where
spindly trees and cumbersome stone
made me feel quite all alone
and gave me cause to glance about
to see there were no dangers.

More cautiously I moved about
and took great care to make no sound
lest some dark creature lurk around
the next slow bend where I was bound.

I held my stick close to my chest
and closed my eyes to wish the best of thoughts
I thought to keep me safe,
and rued the choice to take this trek;
so slowly turned and backed my tracks
repeating steps I trod before
began to swiftly thread the floor
of leaves and trees and stone and such;

Climbing up that mossy stair
back to the safety of my lair
I doffed my hat, took off my boots
and hung back up my bag of loot,
then shed my shirt, and breeches, too
to crawl back in my rumbly bed
and gently stay my whirling head —
reconsider what I’d earlier said
“I think that I’ll explore today.”