I Remember Autumn

[Baut Images: Angel in the Sky]

I remember Autumn, as a child.
Smoky scents on a crisping breeze.
Images of baked potatoes.
Frost.

Clear blue skies.
A hazy amber afternoon sun setting.
School children.
Cornstalks.

I was a child then.
A potential.
Dreaming.
Dreaming still.

But, the child is now locked inside,
And away from those Halcyon Days
Of golden September and October;
When we laughed, and ran, in the pumpkin patch.

I remember Autumn, as I am today.

 ©2011 Roger Allen Baut

I Hear Atlantis Weeping...

[Baut Images:  Atlantean Dreams]

I hear Atlantis weeping for her lost, lost Summer children,
Who having cast her aside for brighter gems and toys;
Left her to die alone on her once proud beaches.

Hear not her cries for help!
See not her withering lands, and forests, and streams,
Littered with the refuse of Man.

Hear O Ye People, hear the sighs of once fair Atlantis,
Hear her cries, as they ply the winds along Pacific Coast Highway,
And as she laments her fallen Summer children.

Children who see naught, but their own selfish needs.
See not the suffering of their brothers and sisters,
And the hungry and homeless roaming in-between.

Hear her now in the voices of approaching Autumn leaves,
Falling, ever falling from the hair of the fallen Summer children;
Lost in their food, and drink, and greed.

Children who now waste away in their hazy dreams,
Tossing and turning, and needing more and more;
Crying in eternities non-time, "Come back, come back again!"

I hear Atlantis weeping...
Lost Summer children...
Who cast her aside...
Left her to die alone...
On her once proud beaches...
Come back, come back again...

Roger Allen Baut
It's Almost Full Moon...

Note: This poetic art form consists of an image, poem and music video to lend it a 3-tiered/dimensional aspect to the work. Please consider all three parts when viewing this work. Thank-you! ☺

Requiem for One Stop Poetry

[Baut Images: Ecolo]

ODE

We are the music makers,
And we are the dreamers of dreams,
Wandering by lone sea breakers,
And sitting by desolate streams,--
World-losers and world-forsakers,
On whom the pale moon gleams:
Yet we are the movers and shakers,
Of the world for ever, it seems.

Arthur O'Shaughnessy
(Initial lines)

As I awoke this morning, I felt very motivated to write this blog about One Stop Poetry (OSP) since I had participated in some of it's activities; namely One Shot Wednesday and One Shoot Sunday. I had also been interviewed by Adam on one occasion, and with Chris on another, with some of my photographic images being shown, along with one image that was  used in the Sunday challenge. What a great and positive experience that was!

The following are some of my personal sentiments regarding OSP:

• One of my primary beliefs is that our species, if it is going to survive, is going to need to bring people together, and work for the mutual benefit of everyone. Our forefathers knew this, when they said, "United we stand, divided we fall."

• This, indeed, is what I saw in OSP. People working together for the benefit of all participants and co-founders alike. To me, OSP brought bright and talented individuals together and provided an online experience that addressed the several aspects of the Arts.

• It was absolutely amazing to see how these Arts were presented, and that presentation must have been pretty darn good to pull me in. Especially, since I'm one of those rather selective individuals about what I do, or participate in. I look for quality, and I do mean high quality, and OSP manifested that!

• Everything about OSP was a cut above anything else I had seen regarding the Arts. Pages, layout, graphics, images, Mr. Linky (methinks) for participants to link their sites to an activity, programming, et cetera, was literally TOP OF THE LINE! Whomever did all of this work (and I think I have an idea of who it was) certainly should have been given more than a Shorty; preferably an Emmy and a cash bonus in gold; not paper!

• As I participated with OSP, I became acquainted with, and was fortunate enough to interect with some very extraordinary artists and a few of the co-founders associated with it. I really enjoyed this intereaction, as visiting their sites expanded my insight into how some of them presented their work, and how they did things. I also appreciated comments that were made from other participants and co-founders, when I wrote a poem for one of the events. I found the comments to be a wonderful tool to help me take a second look at what I had written or presented.

• So, it was, I felt a bit of sadness when I first heard about the departure of co-founders, and then to learn later on, that others were leaving too; especially since OSP had only recently celebrated it's one year anniversary. One short year, and so much accomplished. One short year and a concept that was so very much needed in today's materialistic and tired society. One short year and a model that is hopefully an inspiration to others. One short year and a Shorty for a job well done for the co-founders.

• To Adam, Peter, Leslie, Brian and Claudia, Chris, Gay and Jessica, some of you I know a bit better than others. I want to say to each of you that I am sure your efforts with OSP have touched the minds, hearts and lives of more people than you can ever imagine; I know it did mine! And, in touching those lives you have made a difference in them, and I am certain it is a positive difference.

• So a BIG personal "Thank you," is in order to each one of you, for giving me the opportunity to encounter One Stop Poetry! The path each of us travels is often a "pathless path" whether we realize it or not, but that path takes all of us to the same place at journey's end.

• FINAL THOUGHT: The sad thing is, that I do not feel One Stop Poetry had to end when it did! I think there were some other dynamics involved that brought OSP to its conclusion. There were enough people involved who could have carried on the torch of OSP, even if some other individuals didn't want to. OSP could have continued bringing people together for the benefit of the Arts and people everywhere...Think about it...Did OSP really have to end so abruptly? And why does it seem that our species keeps doing this sort of thing to itself...over and over and over...But it is over...sad...Sayonara to One Stop Poetry. Perhaps Sayanora to Homo sapiens..."The moving finger writes, and then moves on." Kahlil Gibran.

"For each age is a dream that is dying,

Or one that is coming to birth."

Arthur O'Shaughnessy

Roger Allen Baut ☺



Hidden and Revealed

[Image: Adam Romanowicz]

Hidden and revealed are the secrets of life.

Each of us searching our lives and selves

To find the answers to the mystery

That lies behind the door of our mind and soul.

A flower of windmists, a foggy day, a drop of dew,

An amber afternoon in October, a summer's night,

And a winter's day. All hold the precious answers

We are looking for, if we but only look within,

And see with our mind's eye.

Hidden and revealed are the secrets of life.

Each of us holding within the essence of truth,

And a spark of the Divine;

That lie behind the door of our mind and soul.

Roger Allen Baut

It Happened While...

[Image: Chris Galford]

Dusting the crop

Of harvested featherheads

Icarus pondered

On the abstraction

Of indesolate spheres of incandescense;

Burning brightly, in the Autumnal candles

Of forest delights.

Condescending the metachimes of clearessence

He speculated on the matters of improvisation

In spectral meanderings.

Momentarily gesticulating

On the gloating fusion of afterfacts,

And indulging in the cohesion of solar flares,

He plunged into the fragrance of coronal mandarin.

Arising from the sparkler fires of thought

Icarus merged with the complexities

Of the entirety, gaining,

The ultrimagination of the future born wizards

Of integral motion.

Erasing the dew from his brow

He plunged into the morning sunset.

Roger Allen Baut