Turbulent Black (2010)

Lazy Tommy shuffled home from middle school one day

Only to find his little house had up and moved away

The family car could not be found the mailbox vanished too

He stood there quiet in mental count his options arriving at few

A crumpled hand scrawled note he found pinned careless to the lawn

The steady penmanship confessed his family had all gone

Yes Mama said he would be thought of though really not that much

Since attitudes were poor these days and woefully out of touch

The faded note lamented things that Dad and Sissie missed

Where’s their Tommy where'd he go 'cause this one can't be kissed

An invitation teetered low by the paper's very edge

Someone might be welcomed back but first they'd need his pledge

Tommy stood there nervously the sun dipping toward his road

With mercury falling quickly too he shook with the newfound load

Tears were blurring his shameful view and the light growing ever dim

His world was reeling with turbulent black and little Thomas couldn’t swim

He pondered the vacuous empty where a warm tidy home once stood

Remembering Mama's admonishments Oh Tommy, can’t you just try to be good

But his body was already melting away and the concrete was turning to sand

His efforts were noble as he reached to the right but to his left there came a dark hand

Sophie & Bear (2010)

Sophie & Bear (work in progress)



Wanted to share with you what a work in progress looks like.  This one got off to a strong start but never made it all the way to the finish line.  Sometimes that just happens.  I have found that if I don't complete a work, either in the same session that I started it in, or, at the latest, by the end of the next day, it's highly likely that I won't go back to it...ever.  What I think is important to share is that, when the muse visits you, better take advantage of it while you can.

One good thing that came out of the attempt was a nice little poem I wrote (it's the scribbling on the picture above that did make it to the finish line).

Sophie & Bear

Sweet Sophie Baby and her best friend Bear

Went floating down the Milky Way with nary a care

A couple of peas in a pod they were tucked in nice and tight

The iddy space they shared between them seemed just about right

It was a tiny teacup saucer and a shiny porcelain cup

That kept the precious darling craziness from going belly up

A great big moon so full of wonder it was just about to blow

Provided shelter from the darkness for two adventurers below

Hugging Big Brown Bear the tighter Sophie nodded off to sleep

As he smiled toward the Heavens a Sentry’s watch that bear did keep

And they rolled on…

The Bathtub (2001)

The Bathtub (2010)
 Illustration comes nearly ten years after poem was created.

The world was flat when I was born

And edgy on every side

Explorers attempted to make her round

Yet failed each time they tried

Something was glowing down underneath

When they peered o’er the rugged rim

Pulsating as might a wonderful sphere

Though the light was far off and dim

They speculated with all their might

On how it might be obtained

This longed-for orb in the firmament

Where all their hopes remained

We want our ships to disappear

As we near a far-off distance

We want to sail west to reach somewhere east

Was their uttermost insistence

So I, as their king, financed their dream

And hinting toward the outer realm

Appointed cartographer, navigator, cook

And lastly the one at the helm

Good luck I said and Godspeed to all

As they leapt off the precipice then

With parachutes strapped to their brave, sturdy backs

To guide these adventurers in

How quickly they faded into the inky black

Precariously gliding away

Singing their songs of untamed oceans

While holding the unknown at bay

I kept on waving and smiling until

They drifted out of our sight

Convinced of the wisdom of my royal decision

As that disk lit up our night

I settled into eating grapes

Reposing there on my chaise

A look of glib authority

Residing on my face

The village united in opposing views

Though nobody really much cared

Only a few shared the seeking heart

While most were most comfortable scared

I alone was cognizant

Of what the fate would be

Of those few men who placed their stock

In decisions arrived at by me

I’d already been where they’d yet to go

And knew that the light was round

But there was no life on that little rock

That fact had already been found

Twas gently whispered in my listening ear

On the day of my kingly birth

When I fluttered down from the Heavens above

And took up my post on Earth

So off they searched, this bothersome bunch

Good riddance was all I could think

I knew my own boundaries I knew my own place

In this bathtub that just doesn’t sink

Chinese Coffee Mugs (2005)

Nothing less complicated than a coffee mug

Yet how complex it truly is

I know nothing of its beginnings

How it was made

How it can be so smooth

Or how it got so white

And those beautiful designs placed on that same smooth white surface

What are all those colors made of

What gives them their majestic brilliance

What’s the substance of any of it and where did it come from anyway

It was simply placed in my hands

I never really have much choice

Only know that I’ve used it and many others like it

Never anything more…and never anything less

Nothing less complicated than a coffee mug

If I can’t understand that…well how can I possibly know the world

Someone whispers in my ear –

It was made in China

Oh well that’s a start I say

What do we know about China and her people I ask

Someone whispers that they drink a lot of tea

Oh I say I think somehow I knew that

Yes but they’re steadily switching over to coffee

Really I gasp and how do we know that

Because they’re making a lot of these mugs

Hmmm I say tasting my coffee

Nothing’s as simple as all that I suppose

In the end the Chinese may turn out to be the coffee baron’s biggest customer

Amazing I say truly astounding

I continue to sip my coffee in my Chinese mug

Someone whispers I believe the stool you’re sitting on is made in China too

All of a sudden I’m nervous and it’s not just the caffeine

Nothing more complicated than the Chinese I say

Feeling as though the only one astonished in the room is myself

Why do I know nothing of their beginnings

Or how they got so white

Or what gives them their majestic brilliance

Or how we became so Oriental in the first place

The stamp is on the bottom the voice whispers again

Hmmm I say turning the smooth white mug upside down

The coffee spills all over the table but the stamp is indeed clearly visible

The voice chuckles as someone tosses me a rag

I make a grab for it but a yellow finger is pointing at a little snippet of white sewn to one corner

I choose not to read it

When we turn everything upside down there we’ll find the Chinese

I stare at the coffee mug and those colors still so vibrant

The voice whispers one last time

The coffee is also Chinese

(© 2005 Gary Gunter)