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Posts Tagged ‘clouds’

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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Cloud Everest

When those sky creatures build up
The right way in the summer heat,
Craggy cumulus mountain peaks
Somewhere our souls seek to summit.

If one looks up and thinks, most don’t,
That calling is there, the whole range
Morphing and shifting something strange
That the sky map shows and land maps won’t.

Spirit looks to the tallest form,
Aborigines born out of red
Rock in the heart where earth is dead,
A legend spreads of where we are born.

A Cloud Everest no one can climb,
Temporary tortures and leaves,
Mountains no one could conceive
Become lost in the wandering mind.

A seeking soul, a traveler,
That same reason for land searching
And climbing and wanting and dancing
Strung out above the wanderer.

Recognize that all may be blest,
Kit up and go! The puffs of ice
That don’t exist but in this life,
Climb what’s yours that Cloud Everest!

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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Roses

Come close, come close, then whisper down,
Quiet as a soundless sound.
So close to touch a beauty rose,
That swirls love into the nose,

With petals wound into a bulb,
Like secrets that the lovers told,
Those among those scared scents,
Questioning all loves innocence.

A gardener knows to wear his gloves,
Tending to his lovely loves,
Sneaking under and crawling out
Of all the smoke that’s dressed as clouds,

While others plant up in the sky,
Then let red petals wilt and die.
To dance at times that deadly dance,
Safe in the ground or sky with chance.

A story that a heart may know
Against good judgment from the soul,
To pick a hanging dripping red,
That love is life, the rest is dead.

Kyle McHale      2010

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Silence and Light

One night I felt the heavy weight,
The heavy heart and heavy ache.
I questioned loss and thought of faith,
How you departing was a waste.

A simple night, and I alone
Looked over what was once your home,
A single pack of clouds rolled by,
Cumulus night in quiet sky.

Silence heard and silence felt,
I peered into the puffy heart
Of what became an opening,
A tunnel of a strange type thing,

A portal with no end in sight,
Then a silent flash of violent light,
A few more still, then gone it was,
I in simple awe because

I knew it was you, it was you,
Letting me see what you could do.
I know that we go to a place
Beyond that seen by simple grace,

And that you rumbled for me so,
Gives strength in knowing where we go.
Magnificence in simple-ness,
When subtle truth is not missed.

Do not invite me in just yet,
Those that knew you will not forget,
Silent rumble protect my soul
On earth until your light I’ll go.

Kyle McHale     2012

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I Wish

My heart does weigh heavy on this sulky, dreary day.
It weighs and counter weighs beats and skips a few.
The evil. The good.
It becomes so much for a man who attempts to stay true.
I walk down streets from a small fishing town;
the town hides from a storm.
So empty, feelings lost.
But there is an energy waiting somewhere,
like a bomb about to blow.
Color is mostly gone in this place;
it has been turned into fear and energy.
It is more than the calm before the storm though,
it is so far past panic that everything and everyone
are frozen like the fish they catch that are about to die.
But in each house a small fiery orange glow does shine;
it is faint enough to keep strangers away,
strong enough to hold families together.
It feels like old colonial hopes, grey, small, orange.
The streets are open but welcome no one.
Maybe a wave will wash me away from this place.
I, fearing more than most, know that I should not be here.
Come storm, come take me away, freeze me like a fish,
I wish,
I wish.

Kyle McHale      2004

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The Trees are With Me

Me: “For if I could endure it all
To make it through this dreadful fall,
When my father left with the leaves
To catch and glide that color breeze,

I may see what my father’s done,
Taking pride as his oldest son,
That clarity in autumn light,
That calling out, those pleasant nights,

Where I can send a fire out
Of whipping tails sending up,
Into the space my father went,
Warming all that pain he felt,

And gently touching life’s great web,
Listening to what those trees said.”

The Trees: “We have your father, he is here,
We have his heart out everywhere,

Let us touch you with our grace,
Your father’s heart’s in natural place,
When you gaze towards heaven’s glow,
When you are lost and want to know,

The Great Maker has taken care
Of his brave spirit in the air,
For you know what type he was,
Part wolf and bear, eagle and dove,

Part sea and land, part guiding hands,
Part father, brother, teacher, friend.
You see we needed him so much,
So that his soul could finally touch

All it earned in a mortal life,
To never feel a lonely night,
But you must stay and find that out,
Seek guidance in the spirit clouds,

Then closer to the heart you’ll be,
Yours and his beat beautifully.”

Me: “Dear trees I’m still travelling lost,
I stand where place and time do cross,
I’ll stay with fire close to ground,
I’ll stay lost and hope I’m found

By where my father’s heart has touched,
By how he filled my life with love.
Enjoy his heart in autumn moon,
I’ll see him again but no time soon.

Be at peace with everything,
I’ll look for you when eagles sing.”

Kyle McHale      2010

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