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Posts Tagged ‘blue’

Sky Message

Up there, cracked crust,
Continental drift, ancient collisions,
Earth history sped up
On that blue canvas,
A million years in a day.

Cirrocumulus shaped just right,
If you were blind and could
Reach out it would be brail
In the sky, only those few
Could read it.

I do not know what it would say,
A message from those before perhaps,
Or from the earth before people walked it.
We are just spectators here,
We are more temporary than the shifting skies.

Kyle McHale          2013

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Strange Hung over Me

What was to be a normal afternoon,
A Sunday, Quiet and pleasant, a mild winter day,
Suddenly a strangeness hung over me
Dropping down close, stratocumulus hovered
Intensely near my brain, a strange light,
Not the normal blue and gray, enough blue
Let into sight by the hovering forms
That it almost seemed on purpose.

A peculiar color as the connective tissue,
Muscle and fibers, veins and vessels
That held the sky together, each cloud a
Spider in a blue electric web-spun world.
Almost a lack of emotion. A freezing of thought.
It watched only me for I acknowledged
Its existence, others had not. Singularly
Bearing the weight of the entire heavens,
At least the weight of its glare.

Someone hanging from strings, like puppets,
A hundred uncomfortable paintings
About me, a maze of mirrors of the
Great scream by Munch in every direction,
Inescapable, that long face in an
Awkward world, brilliance in the discomfort.
Some surreal aura that dripped down to
Surround me, melting strangeness from a sky
That I wish was more Monet-like,
Monet’s clouds do not freeze thought or shake one’s core
Or stop inspiration.
His sky is for lovers and dreamers.

Perhaps it was Munch’s psyche during
Every brush stroke of his scream that
Governed the sky that afternoon.
Haunted and taunted by the insane,
The screamer from Munch’s twisted world heart,
Whatever pushed him to paint that now glared
Down on me from above.
Though beautiful, that Sunday
Strange hung over me
And it took several days to
Escape its influence.

Kyle McHale         2013

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Night Tahoe

About the ancient shaping time,
This craft does form a peaceful sweet,
An air I have never tasted,
That sits on head and tugs the cheek

To magic tasting air. I sit
Outside, above the world sits,
Streaking stars with wondrous eyes
Among huge pines that stretch to fit

To fill pure beauty gap.
What is happening here?
My heart lay still but soul awake,
I sit and think in chair.

The dance of life is slow,
How far away is this place?
World of dancing peace
Exist to change my face.

I have never smelled so sweet an air,
Star dotted paper backs the trees,
Rolls out to cover all but down,
The sweetest things I have to see.

Season’s summer but heaven too,
Sweet kissed air, pine sap residue,
Seep into the water blue
Of a sweeping magic hue.

This feeling I only know,
Where I see and have to go,
Which direction time will go,
Lifting nights at Lake Tahoe.

Kyle McHale      2009

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