If I Stole the Moon

If I stole the moon, I would hide it in plain sight

High above the earth, in the starry sky of night

If I stole the ocean, I would tuck it in the sea

Rolling deep between the waves, hidden it would be

If I wrote the truth, and sometimes I just might,

I'd stitch it to the words, in the stories that I write
We see least of all the riches right before our eyes
Oh treasures hidden deep in poems, in seas, and skies!

I See the Moon!

Tonight I saw a mother out with her young child
“I see the moon!” she yelled while it raised tides upon the shore
As if discovering something none had seen before
The little one pointed happily and smiled

Something far from contemplation gripped the mother 

She was lost in something else, mind wandering some place
In that inner turmoil that has no room for outer space
She saw not the moon, and not her child and none of their wonder as each beheld the other

I looked into the sky again to see the moon that earlier made me sigh

I see the moon! I said silently, as if to acknowledge what she'd discovered
Her joy unbounded, mine still undercover
Though my expression more subdued, we both had found a treasure money cannot buy

I see the moon! I said a hundred times, delighted at the sound

I marveled that in the times I had failed to see the moon
It had not failed to shine with stars around it strewn
Seeing such tonight, moon-tide fears were drowned

If in aging my eyes should dim down to blind

And if I cannot see the moon in more darkness than the night
May I still look up and yell, “I see the moon!” with sheer delight
And in faith know it's there for another child to find

If you see the moon tonight know it is the same moon shining here

Not since the day the dish ran away with the spoon
Have I ever yelled so much I see the moon! I see the moon! I see the moon!
Nothing is ever far away when someone sees the moon so near.

Checkmate

January 13th 2012

Katrina Boguski

Rook on rook in corners ready

Mind be sharp and hand be steady

Bishops angling toward the fight

King on left, Queen on right

At first I played so not to loose

But such a goal was just a ruse

How you think when you begin

Is half the battle half the win

Fearing loss of every pawn

Mourning each as it was gone

Fearing capture of the knight

Forgot to plan to win the fight

Fearing loss and fearing pain

I forgot to win the game

Now as pawns march boldly on

I don’t think much of what has gone

I play to win to check the king

To hold on call his crown and ring

And if a pawn or knight be lost

They worry not and know the cost

To play the games of king and queen

To strategize and plan and scheme

Some get lost in complex moves

Sacrificed but skill improves

The pieces lost line battle sides

And watch the game of changing tides

They learn the moves and take them in

Learning now from others’ wins

Now I see I have not lost

But learned to win not counting cost

With strategy and vision straight

I play to win, oh look checkmate

Just One Note From You

Just One Note From You

November 2011

The words you say can change my day,

With just one note from you

I can turn my thoughts and dreams around

I can pick myself up off the ground,

With just one note from you

Some thoughts are just worth noting

Some works are just worth quoting

Some songs are just worth singing,

Over, and over, and over, and over,

The rainbow never once refused to shine

And sometimes when the raindrops fall

And when I haven’t had a call

I feel the tears begin to well

At that point in my despair

Between the raindrops or the teardrops

Or the backdrops of memories,

It is there. In the space between sighs

There a note appears dispelling all my fears

Spelling words and spilling rhymes

Like the rainbow and its lines

My lines appear when some

Hope filled light begins to shine

Then reading note or hearing song

Suddenly there’s nothing wrong

My tears were simply prisms

All the breaks and all schisms

Where once I saw a void

Now I see a space, like the ones that

Mark the place between the notes

In greater space a greater hope

I see lines appear like a rainbow in the sky

And one note, one word is all it takes

To turn the tide to fill the space

To quell the fear, to bring the peace

My ears attentively await

And that next note anticipate

Motionless Revolt

Motionless Revolt

Katrina Boguski

(November 18, 2011)

Standing still upon the spot

Giving power to those who had it not

He sparked a motionless revolt

Dropping arms; he stood upon the holt

He stared silently waiting as he listened

Enemy blood, in noon’s bright sun glistened

Dripping, drop on dripping drop,

His heart now loudly beating; his enemy’s now stopped

Hearing the last pulse as that man died at his feet

His taste for war was made replete

Seeing life fade out from the eyes of that other

He realized then it was his brother

Looking outward to the shaking ranks of frightened souls

Seeing piercing eyes peering out of foxes’ holes

He steadied his resolve and sucked in one more breath of wind

In that moment he was all aware that all are kith and each is kin

Nodding as though bidding clan good day

He turned his kilted form and walked away

Hearing the knell ring out from the kirk

He washed his hands of the devil’s work

That day he stirred the frightened hearts of men

As one by one, he led them through the fen

By the ancient graves they passed

Then each went home to hearth and home to weeping lass

Home to oatcakes, stew and tea

Home to peace and home to Thee

Home to tend the field she sowed

Enmity to amity turning earth where blood had flowed

Dive Right In

Dive Right In

October 3^rd, 2011

Katrina Boguski

Sitting on the dock the other day,

I knew I still had more to say

Not wanting to rock the sea

I waited somewhat patiently

The stones that I once used to throw

Were lined up tightly in a row

Keeping track and keeping time

I stored them neatly in a line

All the rocks and all the words

All the bays and all the birds

Piled up filed up like they should

Feeling anything but good

Rock on rock, they mounted high

Brimstone falling from the sky

Then too much hale and too much rain

Just knocked me off my rock again

Salt of the earth, salt of the sea

A salty dog and a sultry me

Soon we all had more to see

And soon we all had more to be

Rock on, rock steady rock round the clock

Seemed like the wall of sea could talk

She said “Just throw one tiny rock

I’m vast and I can take the shock”

So throw I did, a word or two

And then I threw some off to you

Not knowing you that very well

I thought I might expect a swell

A seaside crash of criticism

A tidal wave of indecision

Splashing surge of pessimism

Followed aft by more derision

But somehow hope surged up instead

Different words than in my head

Meaning more than what was said

Hearing more than what was read

Changing out decaying rust

Replacing it with noble trust

Words just flowed; the speech just rushed

The final demon finely crushed

They started falling from my mind

Words were spoken now in rhyme

Sometimes painful, sometimes fine

Every thought a chant or chime

I’ve seen the tides of Fundy’s Coast

Met Father Son and Holy Ghost

Some tides change your point of view

Expose a different side of you

While turning water into wine

Woke prose and roused it into rhyme

He cast out demons far from shores

And whispered words to saintly whores

“Let he who’s sinless be the first to cast a stone”

With this my imperfections all came in

Reminding me of all I’d been

But insecurity nor duelling doubt

Could not change what I’d worked out

I could not throw more stones in to the sea,

Yet still Two Cents sang on in me

My sanguine side had been set free

So leaving rocks upon the pier

Leaving doubt and leaving fear

In that high tide of your career

Leaving sense and leaving sin

I found the answers deep within

With one fell drop and one fell sweep

Leaving past I dove in deep

Leaving current, leaving tide

I found answers deep inside

What priest once would not let you tell

Might still wash out with rhythmic swell

What confessors would not hear

Might still be whispered in some ear

So casting coins instead of stones or spells

I threw Two Cents into a well

Made a wish but will not tell

Depth of ocean depth of sea

Cannot contain the depth of me

Moving earth and rising deep

Somehow your song fit what I see

Like mamma’s, your Two Cents brought joy into my day

So tell your pop that you have earned your chance to play

Naming - God's Peace

Naming - God’s Peace

(November 16^th) Katrina Boguski

Every name contains a meaning

And a purpose to its sound

Every father has a hope

Even buried in the ground

Every child contains tomorrow

And a purpose he must find

Every father has a dream

Every one a different kind

Every traveller has a journey

And a purpose to his path

Every father has a memory

Which he stored up from the past

Never knowing when the path

Of the past and now might meet

Never knowing if his grave

Would be marking him beneath

Never knowing, ever hoping

Naming son for hope to come

Keeping past and future safe

He branded meaning into name

Never doubting your return

Never knowing his last day

He showed his wisdom

In the one word you might say

To hope “God’s Peace” might be restored

To hope “Son of God’s Peace” might be revealed

Wise James, buried in your grave

Dual purpose of a name is now revealed

Sleep James in the shallow of your tomb

Peace James to eternal rest be sent

The boys you raised now at last have met

Ending finally your very sad lament

Good James, houseboy to a nation yet to live

Deep eyes in your photo that they kept

Sweet James, keeping peace amid the war

Bright eyes smiling which once wept

"God’s peace" came and embraced your child

Undeterred by the jungle or the wild

Shooting photos of the child whom you did name

Teaching as you might have done the same

Know James, you raised them well

No pains, or tears or fears or war

Can destroy a person’s name

Finally “God’s peace” will have its reign

Telling Time and Telling Tales

Telling time and Telling tales

Katrina Boguski October 4^th 2011

Telling time and telling tales

Searching inward for the grail

Breathing in and breathing out

Casting fear and leaving doubt

Taking time and walking on

Breathing meaning into song

Whispering streams into the rivers they become

Loving peace and finding hope in everyone

Hear compassion hear the pain

Weaving wonders from their strain

Working Ovid’s precious metas into song

Moving memory just to urge my soul along

Metallurgic metanoia golden changes

Charged with mystery of mind

Mining hope from every struggle I can find

Tragic moments so compressed by all the years

Now like magic have made diamonds from my fears

Could have laughed instead of shedding all those tears

Short of breath, short on sleep

Another song just seems to creep

Moving over, moving mountains in my mind

Could this be true happiness I find?

Making something out of nothing all the time

Finding meaning; beating rhythm; hearing rhyme

Raging river meets the ocean at the sand bar on the beach

Bonds of time, bonds of shame have all been breached

Drawing lessons from the mysteries that they reach

Tear or stream, river or sea they’re all water flowing rapidly to teach

Metaphoric deep description of the shore

Beating meaning into languages once more 

Between mystic invitation and a fearful hesitation

Lies a moment where the truth begins to dwell

Weaving meaning from the stories that they tell

Leaving space between the words, there’s a story undeterred

Only Cause can fill the void in with his Word;

Now and then within his voice is sometimes heard

 

As I settle into listening mode again

I begin to hear the rhythm in my pen

Static Inclination

Katrina Boguski

October 3^rd, 2011

If the static inclination of one misconnected being

Taught me players write their love songs in the sand;

Then the moving inspiration of a stable curing band

Taught me healers write their songs from what they’re seeing

He had played a thousand tunes piling rocks within his room

He did strum and play his heart out while he drank,

I grew tired while smoke filled rooms grew dark and dank

Going insane and dying in pain in his living room

Revolutions on the table turning tunes of every label

Sounding music from the left side of his brain

Cutting out the rightful muse with every strain

RPMS of REM moved his eyes but never truly moved his soul

But then again that never really was his goal

Exposing music to a muse in different form;

And in so doing teaching pain could be the norm

He moved mountains just to place them in my way;

Saying, “Honey I’ll love you another day,

But for now you just sit here and beg and stay”

Now those doggone years of loving fade away

As the mountains stood before me they cast shadows in their way

Storing sense in every word like “Bodega Bay”

Akin to frightening journeys with the Byrds

Poems can tip your head on what they say

Turning turn upon the turn of every word

So I capture them on paper rearranging what they say

Learning meaning from the point they leave my pen

Pent up symbols fuelling feeling now and then

I keep the shadows but the mountains fall away

Like the dog from RCA I incline my head

Hearing clearly all the words my master said

In the standing invitation of his voice

Now I feel that static inclination was his choice

Moving slightly to the right or moving rightly to the left,

He could have found his groove in very simple moves,

Turning baseness into bass or cutting tunes in the lines of the treble clef

Instead he kept the rut but lost the groove his face to save

The only thing that he could dig was his own grave

That was when I left for the other coast;

Trying to flee the ghastly shadow of his ghost

Which had moved in and then did live upon my street

Pulling heartstrings on the corner where we’d meet

Now I’m sailing most pacifically away;

No need to keep those shadow ghosts of mine at bay

But furling sheets of music penned from what they say,

At long last I’ve cleared the waves within my brain

I can finally hear the muse in every strain

Strapped unto the mast my compass I did find

Sailing past the siren voices in my mind

I find that finally I can see that I am sane

Like a pirate I have stolen all his gain,

Finding wealth within this treasury of pain

But he lost me when he got lost with Mary Jane

The Job is not done

Katrina Boguski

October 12, 2011

The job is not done,

Not done, no not even begun

The job, the one you worked for

It’s still there just beyond the door

That loud annoying sound

That woke you late last night

That was opportunity, it finally came around

So go another round and get up for the fight

Just getting to the forum does make you champ

Just getting to the ring doesn’t win the prize

Just get up off the matt, regroup, rework, revamp

Just get up, just show up, just open up your eyes

Brawler that you are prepare another day

Clinch the fighter hitting you,

Your shadows and your doubts

Flash knockdowns do not count as out

You may have kissed the canvas

You may have cussed the referee

You may be on the ropes

But at least you still are free

Motive for a haymaker, motive for a win

Motive for a comeback, Motive for a moment

The one you’re living in

Open up the door and let that chance come in