Larry Kilham Blog |
We are but seeds
that settle on planet Earth. We bloom, sometimes beautifully, and then wilt away. Free will, whatever it is, may be all that is uniquely ours, giving us creativity and energy to enrich our future. So let us bloom and be friendly so we will be the flowers of eternal happiness. (2023 Larry Kilham If we are stuck in a human hive soothed by manufactured truth, we will lose curiosity and play and we will mourn for dreams that flew away. Life need not be an empty dream where we wait for salvation. We must venture forth to find our true satisfaction. Let’s make our lives a joy by finding our certain something so our creations and doings reveal themselves as ever-pleasing. (c) 2023 Larry Kilham
These poems bring us hope during troubled times through our connection with nature. Chapters include poems on dreams, understanding ourselves, nature, robots and us, and living in the time of covid. There is also a special chapter of legends told by poetic verse.
"Dreams" is the opening poem: From your pillow through your window you travel to your land of dreams. Its special places only you know - their vistas bathed in sunny gleams. Flowers carpet the valley, birds chirp from the trees. From them you absorb energy while you float in the breeze. Now put structure in your vision to give your life new meaning, and you can do with what you’re given with a joyous and prideful feeling. (c) 2021 Larry Kilham I gazed upon a crisp night sky
like the shepherds of old. They saw creatures there and gods and heroes bold. “Hallelujah!” was hope they held for angels to answer their call but today we only see satellites orbiting over all. I hear there’s twinkling hope in planets light-years away. Intelligent life may lurk beyond, but what have we to say? Our support forever is Mother Earth. We are her children, not her master. We must share with all her creatures and there will be harmony forever. © 2021 Larry Kilham The big old house sits atop yonder hill guarding its history from curious eyes. They say it's full of spirits all claiming important family ties. A stranger approached through the mist with curiosity nudging him to the door. He knocked and knocked to no avail while the wind whistled “Nevermore!” Finally he found a basement door unlocked but covered with vines. The stranger gave it a mighty push and collapsed among racks of wines. He brushed off cobwebs and dust and the bottles set him to think: “A rich family settled here once at least two centuries past. They nonstop partied and drank because the future seemed so vast.” Some force pulled him upstairs to the kitchen strangely still No food or wine waited on silver trays nor a butler to sense his will. But “Listen,” a voice seemed to say, “Go to the library down the hall and look for a squire by the fire and he should tell you all.” The stranger looked all around but no squire was to be found only august gentlemen and ladies watching from portraits all around. Neatly shelved were hundreds of books probably none read but also no TV. He admired furniture, china and bric-a-brac standing ready for the next society tea. Then a voice from somewhere said: “This old house sits on a historic hill guarding its history from curious eyes and I, the squire, am its guardian spirit but you took me by surprise.” “You must talk to my daughter who resides on the uppermost floor I will call and introduce you while you go to knock at her door.” The stranger thought this a little odd that he was not questioned and trusted so but he was bound to follow the path to whomever and wherever it might go. He went up several floors of creaky stairs until he arrived at the third floor. He passed by musty rooms with ancient beds until he came to a promising door. The stranger knocked ever so gently and the door squeaked and opened ajar. A sweet voice, barely a whisper, said “Please come in, whoever you are.” The stranger entered and took a seat but no one could he see. “I am here to find sweet Betsy and who might you be?” “I am Betsy, the last of this family line, and my husband was lost at sea; but you have a voice like his so might you perchance be he?” “I am indeed your husband David! After a terrible storm, wreck, and amnesia, I was destined to forever roam. I only knew by notes and letters how to find my way back home.” “David, my love, we should embrace but I am but a pitiful ghost. Every day from the Widow’s Walk above I scanned the sea for you, my dearest.” “After days and weeks and months, of grief and hunger I did die but please be welcome in our home and someday we’ll unite in the sky.” “Let me say these final words: Everything you love will be lost but all will return another way and our stars no longer will be crossed.” The big old house sits atop yonder hill guarding its history from curious eyes. But now we know it will live again with Betsy’s and David’s ties. (c) 2020 Larry Kilham PART OF MY POETRY COLLECTION IN "DIRT ROAD POEMS" AVAILABLE ON AMAZON. CLICK ON THE LINK BELOW Many winters have passed
but this was the worst. After the snow melted we found the lurking curse. There was a weird silence as the wayward spirit floated down. Microbes and crazy ideas spread from town to town. We used to know where we were going and now our view is often blocked. Real inventions and adventures are fading because our welcoming doors are locked. We have lost sight of meaning – something important for us all. Meaning would give us purpose when sacrifice does us call. After winter comes spring when we’ll see what fresh meaning and new ideas can bring. (c) 2020 Larry Kilham We lie in the ICUs breathing through tubes
which the dinosaurs didn't have as they lay dying in the frigid blackness of the meteor extinction. (c) 2020 Larry Kilham Far, far away in the stellar night
we see mysterious clouds of galactic light. These distant fires warm our tired brains and help our dreams escape their earthly chains. Many have minds that crave to fly free but are caught in the grip of eternity they’re always rolling stones uphill killing their hopes for glorious free will. It’s time to let a million flowers bloom to give joy and dispel the chilling gloom! When there’s an end to exploitation and strife everyone can focus on a better life. (c) 2020 Larry Kilham There's been a lot of talk about human missions to Mars. I have a different perspective as you can see below. THE ROBOT AND THE UNICORN
The robot wandered our desert preparing for the exploration of Mars. The creatures chirped and yowled “Who is snooping in this paradise of ours?” They agreed that wily coyote should talk to this blinky thing. He asked, “Are you smoking peyote or are you under alien programming?” The chastened robot turned to go when a galloping creature with a spiral horn pulled up in a cloud of dust and proclaimed, “Yes, I am a unicorn!” The unicorn said to the robot, “Believe in me and I’ll believe in you.” The robot blinked and clinked and replied, “Fine, let me tell you what is new.” “I’ll search for ways to live on the barren plains of Mars and someday I will travel to the planets of the neighboring stars.” The unicorn spoke confidentially, “Everyone loves me so we should travel together, wouldn’t you agree?” “What will you do?” the robot asked. “We must stay alive. With no food on board, how will you survive?” The unicorn smiled and said, “I do PR, my man! I can report from the boring mission stories of mystery and charm. From you the logician and me the magician.” “We unicorns absorb energy from the sun or from whatever star is near like you do from your solar panels so come on, let’s get in gear.” Now outer space is a lonely place and a stranger sight you might never see - the robot and the unicorn exploring a dead Martian sea. They set up their antenna and broadcast to Mother Earth: “Your lights are glowing in deep dark space. The source of all hope and progress is Earth and the human race.” © 2019 Larry Kilham |