wine..cheese..and a perfect baguette…

the journey began
with empty pockets
but
along the way
through
studies
skills
were gained
and
through
pain
knowledge
skills
provided for
life’s necessities
pain
provided for
life’s lessons
lessons
of how to travel
the twisted path
of existence
a path travelled
with friends
and
lovers
for short distances
most of whom
found other places
to go
and
other dreams
to pursue
from time to time
youthful passions
like fog
obscured
the vision
making it possible
to be
twice robbed
along this road
of coins earned
as an indentured servant
but
the compass
of hope for tomorrow
gave direction
from moments
of chaos
and
the journey
continued
and
the empty
knapsack
was soon full again
not only
with coins
but
more importantly
with love
love
that makes
seeing the destination
less painful
for
it appears
the journey ends
in a dark void
with
empty
pockets

[/audio

those who carry stones…

each day
bapa dola’s student
watched an old man
carrying stones
along the road
and
carefully placing them
in ordered rows
on each side of the path
the student asked
since the stones
serve no true purpose
why does the old man
continue to do this
bapa dola said
in order to maintain
society
and
human sanity
purpose
must be ascribed
to life
above and beyond
those things necessary
for basic survival

along this path….

Image by CWMartin

the sounds of the day
faded into footsteps
along a leaf covered path
each step marking
a memory to be forgotten
a love
  now gone
a child
  disowned
a death
  all too soon
a pain
  lingering too long
each step
weighing more
  than the last
somewhere
along this path
was buried a dream
a childhood fantasy
that love
could
and
would
cure all evil
but that died
long ago
now only
a poem
marks
its grave

the bridge…

Photography by John Holmes (http://everchangingperspective.wordpress.com)

from where
i started
i’ve walked
a long time
to get to this point
i didn’t think
i would reach this place
for the waters were
dark and very deep
and
i couldn’t see the bottom
so i walked along the edge
and prayed that i could
navigate the thick underbrush
sometimes the embankment
was covered with twigs and leaves
concealing the pitfalls on the path
so i fell a couple of times
and had to pull myself up
and continue on with faith
every now and then
there were stepping-stones
or markers on the trail
but more often than not
the trail was unmarked
sometimes i would
come to a clearing
and i’d move along quickly
without hesitation
enjoying the journey i was on
but just as suddenly
the path would narrow
and I would have to wade
into the dark swirling waters
moving slowly
feeling the weight of life
after a while
the waters grew warm
and shallow
and i could see the bridge
a bridge
i must
cross over

when spirits touch…

A Duel Poem
by
 River Urke & Charles Martin

the call of a lone wolf
echoes
through the deepest corners
of the northern forest
a sound so primeval
from a forgotten soul
a wanderer of time
a time before men
walked the mossy path
alone, separated
and divided from all
now their relative calls
out their names
pleading for them
to return to the old ways
when men knew their brothers
and walked with their sisters
a time they lived side by side
no blades between or
tar soaked earth
only the warmth of love
for one another
a deep respect
for all who shared this place
and walked upon this path
a thousand miles far
the call of a lone wolf
resonates, passing through
earth, water, fire, and air
a girl lifts her ears
and speaks to the wind
brother I hear you
your voice is my voice
your sadness is mine
the lone wolf replies
young one, I carry
too heavy a burden
for your soft back
the girl smiles
and says to the old one
then let us do as before
and share the burden’s
of this world

Once again River Urke and I have entered into a duel poetry challenge and this is the resulting poem.  Duel Poetry:  a prearranged poetry writing challenge  between two people to evolve a new poem where each writer must respond to the other writer’s lines  (4 -5 ) until both parties agree that the poem is complete.