A Lonesome Wail

A Lonesome Wail

-by BR Chitwood-

A long lonesome wail of a moonlight train whistle…

The clapping/slapping of steel wheels on steel rails…

Seem for some the quixotic movements of the Soul…

Transports to the stuff of adventure, romance, love…

A sad transit to unstoppable tears of remembrance…

*

For some, merely interruptions to bland activities…

For others, those of troubled hearts and memories…

That plaintive sound awakens the heart to lost love…

To a path urged to follow but reluctantly not taken…

To an urgent unbearable loss, a desperate suffering…

*

For the strong of heart, a train wail is simply noise…

A warning to stay off the tracks ‘til Silence returns…

An unwelcome sound that spoils the busy moments…

Can it be? The whistle of a train can define a person…

Humbly, truly, I do submit that it surely must be so…

By BR Chitwood – October 16, 2020

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The Devil’s Time

-Photo Image by: Pedro Lastra – Unsplash.com-

-A Poem By BR Chitwood-

***

No machine, no vaccination,

Can launch us back in time.

No Hypnotist can erase your mind

Of that clinging primeval slime.

You are here of your own craving,

Desires of your nights and days

Without doubt densely depraving.

Though Biological Sciences seek

Cures and advances in ageing,

Your chances appear most weak.

Today, so much of our world wants

Rebellion, violence, and Anarchy.

Therein the Devil lives and taunts.

***

A Poem by: BR Chitwood – 7-28-20

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River, Flow For Me

Photo art by Nicholas Murawski – Unsplash.com

***

By BR Chitwood

(1)

I look out over the valley

From atop this tall, tall, Pine,

And I can see the river flowing

Down through this land of mine…

(Chorus)

River, keep on flowing,

River, flow for me,

River, keep on flowing,

Take my Misery…

River, keep on flowing 

Over forgotten ground 

River, keep on flowing

Let my Peace be Found…

(2)

There, on the bank of the River

Sits a love that I once knew –

Her hair aglow in the sunlight,

Her eyes lost in the sky so blue.

Where does she go at Twilight,

The love that I once knew?

Does she go in search of tomorrow?

In the arms of someone new?

(Chorus)

River, keep on flowing,

River, flow for me,

River, keep on flowing,

Take my Misery…

River, keep on flowing,

Over forgotten ground

River, keep on flowing, 

Let my Peace be Found.

(3)

River, how far do you go?

Winding through the trees…

Do your muddy waters run deep –

With sad stories and memories?

Where do your troubled waters go,

Old River, at the final bend?

Do they go to the sea and flow

With All Life’s tears at the end?

(Chorus)

River, keep on flowing,

River, flow for me,

River, keep on flowing,

Take my Misery…

River, keep on flowing

Over forgotten ground,

River, keep on flowing,

Let my Peace be found.

*

©A Song by: BR Chitwood

*

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Back to the Valley of the Sun

 – Image Art by: Luiz Felipe Silva Carmo – Unsplash –

BACK TO THE VALLEY OF THE SUN

*

Back to the valley of the Sun

Where much of my life was spun,

There among the bramble bush,

The Cacti thorns and desert hush…

Back to memories both sad and true

Clashing with Salvadore’s sunset hue

*

Still, the mind’s alive with dreams

Of the morrow’s golden themes

Of endless morns of skies so clear

Een walks with a love that’s pure,

And cocktails on the back patio

While dinner awaits a hungry duo.

*

Thus, the days will pass too fast

As Time speeds on to form our past,

Yet, we have this precious hour

And minute to yield and prepare

For the most joyous voyage of fate,

That meeting at Heaven’s Gate.

*

A poem by BR Chitwood – 12/3/19

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Love

Photo by Filipe Almeida on Unsplash

Love begins with a flashing flicker

Of a dormant heart

Awakened to belonging:

An awesome sense

Of the heart no longer

In search of a home.

Love ignites ambition and wonder

To a world freshly

Awaiting lively minds

Teeming with ideas

Of new and noble creations.

Love moves lives

To a glorious plateau of forever.

So long as Love

Can be sustained,

Succumbing not to greed

Nor evil powers,

Love is All

And

All is Love.

*

A poem by BR Chitwood – November 12, 2019

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Darkness and Insomnia

 By Billy Ray Chitwood in Musing, Poetry, Writingon October 4, 2019

4 comments

(Image Art by Andrew Neel – Unsplash)

 

Darkness and Insomnia

By BR Chitwood

*

Sleep waits with me until

Insomnia might mercifully

Quit its nightly routines,

The tossing and turning

Becoming an unbearable

Stir of stupid body scenes.

*

How to position my hands?

My head? My legs? My feet?

My brain goes hither and yon.

The grandfather clock ticks

Off its steady pulsations

As thoughts pound on and on.

*

Now, I sit in my Lazy-Boy

Typing out my wariness

With words that rhyme.

My head begins to nod,

Drowsiness comes to tease,

Off to bed one more time.

*

Again, beneath the covers

My body comfortably in

Tune with my mind,

The damned cat pounces

On my naked form and

Decides it’s time to unwind.

*

A Restless Poetic Effort by BR Chitwood – October 4, 2019

*

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Darkness and Insomnia

(Image Art by Andrew Neel – Unsplash)

 <*****>

Darkness and Insomnia

By BR Chitwood

*

Sleep waits with me until

Insomnia might mercifully

Quit its nightly routines,

The tossing and turning

Becoming an unbearable

Stir of stupid body scenes.

*

How to position my hands?

My head? My legs? My feet?

My brain goes hither and yon.

The grandfather clock ticks

Off its steady pulsations

As thoughts pound on and on.

*

Now, I sit in my Lazy-Boy

Typing out my wariness

With words that rhyme.

My head begins to nod,

Drowsiness comes to tease,

Off again to bed I trod.

*

Again, beneath the covers

My body comfortably in

Tune with my mind,

The damned cat pounces

On my naked form and

Decides it’s time to unwind.

*

A Restless Poetic Effort by BR Chitwood – October 4, 2019

*

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Believe

Believe in the miracles inside you,

Have faith in the God who shapes your dreams,

Walk tall, to yourself be true.

 

Abide obstacles strewn along your way,

The nagging naysayers of folly,

In confidence walk each day.

 

Should not your wishes find

Fulfillment at the journey’s end,

Look skyward with peace of mind.

 

You have given in honest measure

That most noble part of your tender soul

And, in reward, heaven’s treasure.

 

So, believe in wonders yet to be,

Passing through life’s many gates

On your way to eternity.

 

©Believe

 

©Billy Ray Chitwood – August 6, 2019

 

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There

-Photo art by: Jakub Dziubak-

 

There in that sacred space

Where dreams lay crumbled

From all the yesterdays –

 

There where songs are sung

And stale memories play on

The soft notes of piano keys –

 

There in the unfulfilled dream

Heaps of all tomorrows amid

The rearranged bar stools –

 

There in the Bacchus mist

Among the sad souls of night

Love comes briefly to delight –

 

There in that play parlor for

Lonely souls of poetic pawns

The tortured Romantic sits.

 

Thank you, Romantics of the

World for the beauty of your

Musical notes of such sweet pain.

 

• BR Chitwood – July 9, 2019 –

 

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There is Room

  Along the lonely road I met an old man who sang a soft melodic song that spoke to me in so many ways, his gnarled fingers chording an old guitar that seemed to know so exactly, so enchantingly, and so beautifully where his sad and lonely words were going.

  I stood and listened until his song ended, mesmerized by the sounds and the words. My tears were his tears, his tears mine, and his song was my song, words, music, and all.

  When I awoke the tears still flowed down my cheeks, the words and music of the song would lay upon me in the twilight of my days.

*

There is Room

There is room for you here – it’s not so crowded, now that night is over and the demon sleeps in his coffin of forgetfulness…

There is room beside me, though the heat in my body has dwelled for a while in the dampness of the past heroic epic of chance…

There is room for you here by this still infernal longing of my soul that speaks to me of a thousand things I could have done…

There is room beside the silent tempest that yet rages within the bounds my mind can reach in too much absurdity…

There is room here in the twilight of a life spent recklessly and with oft a hope some willing star would enter its pitiable tenderness…

There is room here near the weariness from joys sought, found, and lost through carelessness of one final salute to Bacchus…

There is room here among the decay of confusion and doubt, among the abandoned hearts of love’s labor lost, sought and found…

Come join me – read my tales, hear my soul’s somber chorus, hear a fool awaking to a yawning maw of darkness and despair…

There is room…

*

Billy Ray Chitwood – November 12, 2018

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