Tony Valuch
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November & December 2008

 
         DREAMFALL
By Tony Valuch © Nov 2008

As I plunged into her eyes I
Fell into a dream gone by,
Felt the echoes of my heart
Beating with blood rushing
As once before so long ago
On a cool, grey October day
When on a sideline I stood
Watching her cheer, looking
Radiant in beauty gentle as a
Milkweed seed riding the air,
Seeing even now as then, the
Tantalizing potential wishing
Will create in a lonely heart:

An oath of Love I’d offer,
Running deep, clear, true
As winter’s purest springs;
Respect, a pledge I’d give,
Granite-clad, iron-wrought
To stand the tests of time;
Loyalty, the battle all fight
‘Twixt Desire and Promise,
Guided by their inner voice;
True love’s hardest bond to
Bind soul, heart and mind
Is Trust, in which I’d wrap
Her doubt and worry well.

All this I dreamed in just one
Glance, one single, random
Circumstance occurring in a
Life of swallowed bitter pills
Where this dream I’ve chased
But never, ever caught…yet.

 
        IT GNAWS
By Tony Valuch © Dec 2008

The pain gnaws. Patiently.
Endless, diminishing now
And then surging, flooding
Every nerve and memory
With biting reminders that
Love lost scars the soul;
Hope is its snack, its fuel,
Possibility feeds the mind
Now racing back and forth
Instant replays that kill the
Heart, love’s bloom fading
As fast as fall’s first frost
Steals life, color draining
From the landscape’s face
Her words thrust so deep,
Pierced passionate pleas
To watch and wait, to put
Faith in promises heard
Written in anxious dread,
Sworn and pledged with
Desperation’s signature,
The truth of that moment
Was measured in pain…
Which still gnaws.











 
 
October 2006                           


 

THE EXECUTIONER





A gusting wind blows
Cool, silent, deadly
Twixt serpentine shadows
Cast shamefully by rotted husks
(Mere icons, blasted facsimiles
Of what we once cherished,
Once called—trees);

Creeping cautiously, carefully,
Subtly stalking, snaking
Through the paralyzed pool,
Invading with military precision
(Locks, rocks, logs, bogs,
Fur, feather and fin remain
Scantily clad in greasy death);

Soon enough, too quick
For most, for those enclosed,
Conveniently blinded with
Sense-stunning necessity
(Facts and figures scream
With childish truth—
Scrooge-like, we beg to differ);

Intangible tendrils touch,
Caress with brilliant power,
Warmth, color, life,
Are gifts granted gratis
(Play now, pay later,
Shunning with religious verve—
Ultra-violet death rays.

Politicians sit in dire prophecy,
Brooding, bitching, barking,
Vainly attempting to civilize
Through legislative grandeur
(Weeping wildly in acid-anguish
Mother’s rape-cry remains muffled,
Too dear a sound for clarity).

      © Tony Valuch
             1989



 

THE SOOTHING OF THE GREEN



The envy-colored carpet
Hangs heavy with dew
As Pan fills the air,
Spreading calm everywhere;

Leaves lull your senses,
Intoxicate your mind
As whispers from wherever
Drown you out forever;

The safety and security
Of nature’s seductive breath
Rushes through your soul
Making it whole;

And dreams complete the scene
Amidst the soothing of the green.


            ©  Tony Valuch
                       1984




 

February 2006


Haiku
© Tony Valuch
 

LOVE MOVES LIKE WATER:
FALLS SPLASHING, DRIPPING INTO
A PUDDLE CALLED ‘LIFE’
 
SNOWFLAKES FALLING SOUND
SOFTLY, GENTLY, QUIET-LIKE…
BABY’S RHYTHMIC BREATH
 
A SINGLE TREE SIGHS,
WEIGHTED, WAITING STOICALLY—
CRYSTAL SKIN DRIPS…DRIPS…
 


 

January 2006  

Why Say Why?
Man always seeks knowledge...to know...to understand.
Sometimes the prize demands a horrible price: 1945 Japan.
Today, rumors hint of biological weapons capable of decimating the
entire planet and the controversy of cloning and genetic research is ongoing.
Aren't some secrets best left alone?
                             ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


                           Why Say Why?


Once upon a rhyme
In a world past hope and fear
There were clocks that would not chime,
Turtles that ran like deer;

Hockey was played by chickens,
Chess by rocks,
Services were held in trees by bees
And centipedes wore socks;

Suddenly a man appeared
Dressed in a suit and tie,
The one thing most feared
Was that he might ask ‘why?’;

A great cloud descended from above
Enveloping his head,
Thinking aloud he questioned it,
Immediately, the cloud was dead;

Then a three-toed worm flew by
Landing on a fresh, steel pie;
He looked at it and asked it, “Why?”
It screamed as it began to die;

Now, another man arrived,
Clad in neon white;
The first man withdrew a bit,
Cowering in fright;

He asked the man, “Why?”
His voice no longer caught,
The stranger passed him by,
Turned, and said, “Why not?”

The inquisitor clutched his head,
Crumbling in pain,
“What was that you said?”
He never spoke again;

Creatures crowded ‘round the man in white,
They really had no plan,
“Why did he die?” they mumbled in fright,
“Curiosity killed the man.”


© Tony Valuch
    1976






 


Bloodrushes
Bloodrushes...those moments we all have....when senses are
heightened, feelings rage, emotions charge us up till the
hardest thing in the world is to stay in control...those moments....
we must know fear, anger, love, lust, shame, helplessness,
laughter, ecstasy... those moments...
                                          ....Blood Rushes
                              ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

                Bloodrushes

Blood rushes anxiously,
Flooding fragile corridors,
Crash-cleaning branching highways

Like some brazen, rebellious youth:
Strutting with pride,
Hot, humid air
Filling flaring nostrils;

Body-bags bursting,
Bone-touching-bone,
Morphing into frenzy

Like some lackluster pool:
Gulping champagne rain,
Soaking up suds,
Healthy. Real. Alive!

Anger breeds in bliss,
Its foul progeny laugh,
Spit in civilized contempt

Like some wine-soaked,
Unshaven, unclean, uncouth,
Transient, gutter-schooled
Professor of poverty;

Eyes bulge obscenely,
Pallid orbs frozen,
Locked on target

Like some sweet innocent,
Mama-pampered, father-guided,
Run-of-the-mill, average
Teenager busted for pot;

Grin-trace creeps,
Streaks cross a flushed,
Reddening facescape

Like some modest maiden:
Newly-wedded, never-bedded,
Consumed in celebration,
Filled with anticipation;

Years, hours, and minutes
Are measured in experience:
The realm of bloodrushes.


© Tony Valuch
    1988


 

 

Oshawa Branch - The Ontario Poetry Society 2008
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