Poetry by David Bays
Class of 1965
Paladin /
Touching / Black Granite
/ Never Learning / A
Vision / Hollow Man / Growing
Older
New Postings...Hollow Man and Growing Older
Poetry by David Bays
Class of 1965
Paladin /
Touching / Black Granite
/ Never Learning / A
Vision / Hollow Man / Growing
Older
New Postings...Hollow Man and Growing Older
Ride on faithful Paladin
Searching for your giants.
Fear not the scorn of others
Who see with jaded eyes.
Seek your own ends,
Never doubting the quest.
For giants there are,
And other ills worse.
The infant battered
For sake of quiet.
The woman forced
For sake of lust.
Ride on faithful Paladin
Seeking what is just.
And if a blow you strike
Should by chance land true
And even one giant fall,
Then you journeyed not in vain.
(Copyright 1991, by David Bays)
Touching, shy,
Both are young.
They feel, exploring,
Dissolving in giggles.
Later, not now.
Touching, fearful,
Still quite shy.
Longing to know,
Afraid to learn.
Later, not now.
Touching, bolder,
Still very young.
His hair tickles,
Her skin is silk.
Not now but soon.
Touching, more sure,
Learning together.
Strong and firm,
Yielding and soft.
Now.
Touching, certain,
Fingers caressing,
Eyes speaking worlds.
Knowing, sharing,
Now and evermore.
(Copyright 1992, by David Bays)
I shed a tear for Jackie,
His father loved him so.
We longed so much to save the world,
How little did we know.
Now black granite spans my vision,
It tells not how he died,
It tells not who he loved,
It tells not how we cried.
I shed a tear for little Bill
And the father he did not know.
A face, a picture on the wall,
Only mom was home to watch Bill grow.
Now black granite spans my vision,
It stretches across the years,
It tells only who he was,
It tells naught of all her tears.
I shed a tear for Jimmy,
So young and full of life.
Fewer now are the memories
Of the cost of that far strife.
Now black granite spans my vision
But it only gives his name.
It cannot tell of those who lived
Or tell us of their pain.
I shed a tear for Mary,
Her loss our story told.
She tried too hard to live too much
And living crushed her soul.
Now black granite spans my vision,
Her name, it is not there,
But even those who fought at home
Too, had much to bear.
I shed a tear for all of us
For time never fully heals.
Looking back in pain and loss
We read the names, and long, and feel.
Now black granite spans my vision,
It tells not how they vied.
It tells not of their fears and joys,
Nor how a little, we too have died.
(Copyright 1992, by David Bays)
Dawn of age,
Screams of rage,
Antelope's thigh
Raised on high,
Rock stained red,
First men dead,
When will we stop the slaughter?
Bold men riding,
Armor shining,
Pikes rip steel,
Flays skin peel,
Village burning,
Never Learning,
When will we stop the slaughter?
One side blue
One side grey,
Both one land,
Take a stand,
Cannon shot,
Charge and drop,
When will we stop the slaughter?
Lodge poles fold,
Teepee cold,
Bluecoats riding
Trumpets sounding,
Babies dying,
Mothers crying,
When will we stop the slaughter?
Jackboots raised,
Heroes praised,
Valkyries ride
No one can hide,
A mushroom burning,
Never learning,
When will we stop the slaughter?
Jungles hiding
Furies riding,
Napalm sprays
Skin still flays,
Young men gone,
Young girls long,
When will we stop the slaughter?
Again the sounding
Drums are pounding,
Lines are drawn,
Men again gone,
Lies are told
Blood runs cold,
When will we stop the slaughter?
(Copyright 1993, by David Bays)
Like a mote I drifted, content,
Neither seeking nor longing.
Then unasked came a vision.
In my vision I saw wit,
First sparkling as the finest crystal,
Tinkling softly as a silver chime.
Then quiet and still
as the deepest river,
Then bubbling, frothing
as a shallow, swift stream.
Her wit flowed through me,
Finding an emptiness
I had not known.
It passed through the emptiness,
Filling but never stopping,
Changing and shaping
as a stream shapes the bank.
In my vision I saw beauty,
First full of life
Like the hills in spring.
Then pure and soft
as the snow covered heights,
Then passionate, searing,
as the earth's own fires.
Her beauty flowed through me,
Filling an emptiness
I had not known.
Still I drift, content,
But no longer the same,
Changed by a vision.
(Copyright 1994, by David Bays)
The Hollow Man reached out
Seeking to be filled.
The one who should notice
Was too busy to see,
Passing by unaware.
The Hollow Man reached out
Needing to be filled.
The one who should care
Was looking only in himself,
Passing by unseeing.
The Hollow Man reached out
Longing to be filled.
The one who should serve
Was working at his work,
Passing by unfeeling.
The Hollow Man reached out
Pleading to be filled.
The one who should help
Helped only himself,
Passing by unknowing.
The Hollow Man reached out
Seeking to be filled.
But being a Hollow Man,
The wind blew him away.
He was only hollow anyway.
(c) D. Bays 1991
I saw the fairies once,
Dancing in the moonlight.
They moved with grace,
Their beauty without equal.
I saw them and laughed aloud.
I saw the fairies again,
Dancing still in the meadow.
They moved like smoke,
Their beauty ethereal.
I saw them again and smiled.
I saw the fairies not,
The dance had ended.
They moved in my memory,
Their beauty unseen.
I saw them not and longed.
I saw the fairies not,
The dance had faded.
They moved not at all,
Their beauty gone.
I saw them not and cried.
I saw the fairies again,
Dancing in the meadow.
They moved as first I knew,
Their beauty remembered.
I saw them again and died.
(c) - 1994 - D. Bays