Saturday, February 19, 2011

My name is Nathan Nobbe and I have enclosed here a sampling of some of my poems for your publication consideration. Should you have further interest, I have several others that I could make available to you.

Thank You,
Nathan Nobbe


Questions


There are so many questions

And so few answers.

Those that come

Seem to only supply temporary relief

From the haunting consciousness

That follows every path

Until each new realization says

Go back three spaces and

Start again.

But start where and in what direction?

Were it possible to ignore the question

Would only add to the emptiness.

To adhere seems only to make

The container larger.

What’s it all for anyway?

To see who has the biggest container

In the end?

If that’s the case

Then I don’t want to play.

But we can’t just quit,

Because we are the game.

Besides,

There are still questions

To be answered.

We are all actors in a play.

But what is my part?

I’m tired of looking for things

To do

And ways to change

The scene.

It all seems like such a waste,

But I don’t even know what it’s

A waste of.

I am sinking in sand

And hoping for a hand.

I wish upon a star but the star

Only laughs in my face.

Perhaps the star is trying

To tell me the answer.

Oh well,

I think I’ll just hum a tune

And wait…

Perhaps the star is trying

To tell me the answer.

Oh well,

I think I’ll just hum a tune

And wait…

Oh well,

I think I’ll just hum a tune

And wait…

And wait…

Wait…wait…wait…wait…

Will tomorrow ever come?


Somewhere Between


It’s funny how things go down

Sometimes.

I take a long pull off a cigarette

And seek

To let myself fade into truth,

To be in harmony with that

Which is.

Whatever that is.

It’s said that the universe

Is vibrating,

Is pulsing.

The in and out.

The positive and negative.

The yin and yang.

The light,

And the darkness.

I keep seeing in mind

The sight of an old Chevy.

I see the back of it

As if pointed away.

Away from where I am now.

It’s nighttime in that vision.

The cover of night,

Where heartache feels at home.

Is that my ride?

My vehicle out of here?

That car is old.

It is ancient.

It is as old as me.

I will give it this,

It appears well preserved.

It is in pristine condition.

I wonder what would happen

If I just got in and drove.

A long empty road into the night.

To choose to go,

Or not.

It’s hard to know sometimes,

It seems that God tries to tell me.

But I don’t understand,

To be honest I mean.

I can keep guessing

And just bounce from guess to guess.

At some point I have to cry out.

My soul screams

Where now God?

The ruin of mistakes haunt me.

The same old riddle confronts me.

There isn’t an end to this.

It’s only a still photo

Snatched out of the air.

And medicine never does taste good.

A dog bays at the moon.

It calls out for all its worth

And somehow that is what it needs to do.

It is helpless to do anything else.

The loneliness of a dog.

Come share my pain, come cry with me.

The depth of my release.

Dogs have no tears, no self pity.

And still that old Chevy just sits there.

And I can’t move.

Nothing is sadder than a man who has lost

His soul.

I heard it said.

I will sleep now for a time

And hope let fashion some dreams,

That wakening may move me.

My hunger now is just bare.

I’ll lay with those dogs in the moonlight

And watch while stars move round.

Their breathing express the timelessness

Of a universe pulsing to and fro.


The Spirit


The magic is here

It is in the air.

You can believe it if

You dare.

But please don’t tell me

That it’s not there.

The twins came and

Went.

Their smiles a nourishment

Now spent.

The magic not from them.

Their appearance

A result from Him.

It cannot be called upon

But remembering can help.

Be ready and prepared

For it,

A power hard to hold.

If lost or has moved away,

Be sure it will return.

Because when in the renewal

In the time that you can see,

It was never far away

From your reach and from your grasp.


Vapor Visions


Surrounded by sale and trade and commerce

The modern world well lit.

The unattainable goal is near,

And draws my attention e’en though

Distractions appeal.

Differences reconciled.

A new goal appears. Or so I think.

Plans are pursued.

And where my focus had been

Is now gone away.

As I go toward the one,

The best I have ever seen.

My plans are in full motion,

Another yet appears.

This one is clearly distant,

An investment I cannot afford.

Now what of the other?

It has disappeared.

Was not at the end of the plan

As I had been convinced.

Must have been a distraction but

Now where is the real.

Many visions arrive, then pass by

My attention now fleeting

A direction is not there.


The Legend of Him and Her


She was shy and kinda pretty,

But never really quite sure of herself.

He was a lonely man

And wanted more than he had.

But then she learned a secret once,

What she could do with a skirt and hose.

And he really thought he could

Pretend his way

To be the man with more.

She could slide and shimmy and move,

And get most everything.

And he kept lying and cheating his way,

But never really could be the one

That had that elusive more.

So as it is and must be so

Their paths came by their destined ride.

For in him she saw a mark,

A useful and easy means.

And in her he saw himself

Obtaining that hopeful more.

He did the thing she asked him do

And rewarded him in her way.

The reward received was not the one

Envisioned by that man.

Now he is left sitting there

Alone as never before.

He ponders the deed and the price to pay,

He counts it o’er and o’er.

And off somewhere that is not that place

She continues on her way.

She allows herself a quick look back

And wonders his unhappy state.

But such a thing with some don’t stay

Unallowed a hindrance be.

Alone he sits and alone she’s not,

She’s off with another mark.