Puzzle piece

I think of nomads
My fingers trace the walls unfamiliar
Paper scrunched in boxes that held the
‘things’ that now have found a home

Sunlight sits, waiting for curtains
to be drawn, to drop upon the floors
Yet grey clouds in the distance loom
reminding me that all is not perfect

The obscure piece that’s left
wondering if it will be slotted
to make the puzzle whole
Strange territory where thoughts spin
from calm to confusion

Past lives consume, with
empty boxes cast aside
paper waiting to wrap those
‘things’ again, to find a new home

A drifter, vagabond
Sauntering, singular but not
The sun streams, the clouds hover
the only sound I hear, the dialogue
on Bridges of Madison County

Copyright JMTacken 21.6.2014

Falling into Seasons


Letters tumble from broken leaves that autumn cast away
Whilst the wind takes hold grabbing them from hand to
form words I nuzzle close, gathering them in my arms
before my icy breath scatters them into sentences
around my feet

Mesmerised with crackled colour bouncing before my eyes
it read, ‘winter darkness now intrudes into pores, flicking
like tree limbs broken, its fork tongue upon the skin’
and we at times let it puncture, along with inevitable cimmerian  
of the Season, our moods disengage, until we see the sun
once more

copyright JMTacken 18.6.14

It’s all in the music (Prose with Music)

spirit of music, beckons
sounds evoke images, ears absorb
they swirl around your core
then settle, within the depth of you

drops of silken water touch leaves
waterfalls cascade down glassy rocks
rainbows stretch across hills
clouds float along the breeze
waves tumble to the shore
snow slowly melts on the bough

sunset on a slow summers night
branches bow against the breeze
the notes are more than these
go with them, they guide you to
places you have never been

some make you soar
fly on wings ‘cross crystal oceans
or darkness and shadows appear
what you experience, what you hear

as notes heighten senses
music changes you, brings tears
of sadness, or of joy
instruments or words
they can alter the thoughts
you now possess
before you began to play

©jmtacken 17 Feb 2014

and a nudge or two from Brian on this one ~ thank you~ I struggle with passive and active language ..but I’m learning!

Changes within seconds

WORDS upon a page, I wrote of
love and trust ~ the mood was right
ten lines in, plying time
settling into rhythm

the phone, a girlfriend on the line
her WORDS  “he’s gone” she cried
perspective changed, pattern lost
~ the feel of what I wrote

the man I knew as ‘Uncle Les’
a tumour diagnosed last month
his life ended 7.45 pm
the rhythm of his heart ~ that stopped

tumour in the brain, caused a cough
otherwise no signs~ we talk of only weeks
how fast the body breaks
how nature’s rhythm, can cease

so I sit here now ~ 9 pm WORDS that were
won’t be again, tonight ~ this night
thinking of the suffering, the son
the daughter, the family ~ his wife

she worked with mum back in 1950
a friendship to which I was a part
~ her birthday tomorrow, we were
to attend, her world now broken apart

why is life cut short, at times
it simply does, the circle as we know
and we ~ the ones left behind are useless
sympathy and condolences to show

so WORDS be gone, of what was thought
star bright skies ~ romance ~ tonight
to you the man I knew, as ‘Uncle Les’
although you weren’t

RIP dear Les, we’ll miss you
your life on earth had purpose
the Universe decided, it was
your time to go ~ WORDS

~ no rhyme or reason

~ I simply say farewell