I Can See Clearly Now / Carry On Tuesday /

Blogs or Posts, D's Poetry, More Photos


Carry ON Tuesday is a weekly writing opportunity. This week we have a line from a seventies tune, I Can See Clearly Now, by Johnny Nash.

So I started this “thing” and had no idea in the world where it was going (maybe you can tell! aha.). Who knows where these things come from? It’s a lot like dreaming. You think about a dream you had last night and wonder, “Why did I dream that?”

I just started thinking about couples who are miserable. And then there are the news stories when someone decides to burn down their “happy home”. It’s difficult to understand why someone would do this especially when they murder their family members!!

It’s all very depressing to discuss. Writing poetry about it is a lot easier for some reason. So, in this situation, the “loved one” gets away! And the pyro guy has an inkling (before he dies) about the reality of his life.

He can see clearly now! Isn’t that cool? Or hot, maybe, in this case. Ouch. Burning up is one of the worst ways to go! Please drive carefully.


I can see clearly
Through this open door.
But would not glide
Into these moonlit woods.
Without you by my side.

Awaken silven hosts
And take us ere she weeps.
This cannot be the moment
To hesitate or sleep.

For time’s an empty bottle
And thirst is our reward
For daily minding thistles
In our desert bone backyard.

But I can see
This moment.
Angels in the sky!

Take us home together.
As we are one inside!

A candle near the window
Reaches up the wall
The door is wreathed
In flickering light
And echoes of their calls.

Gather up your tresses
My dear and follow me
For now we are delivered
From certain misery!

But when I looked
There was no one
My love had disappeared.
And left me with a raging pyre
In wretched underwear.

So yes, I can see clearly
On this eve of pain,
We come into this world alone
And leave again this way.


The Man And The Bear

Blogs or Posts, D's Poetry

The Man And The Bear

He makes his bed in the morning
And he writes in the afternoon,
Then he formally dines in the evening
Before he returns to his room.

The hedges are trimmed with the clippers
And the pantry is stocked with some care,
But the attic has never been entered
Because in it roams a large bear.

Sometimes he hears the bear snuffling
Or a sound like the scratching of walls,
But never in daylight is missing
His wife or his friends or his dog.

But one day he came down for breakfast
And found sitting there in his chair,
This bear in the bonnet and apron
His wife wears when making eclairs.

“Good morning” he said with some fervour
As the bear cut some bread with a spoon,
“It surely will  be a real hot one
It’s already so warm in this room.”

The bear seemed to smile as he gathered
Himself up and jumped on the man,
Knitting his ears with incisors
And tying up other loose ends.

His wife returned home somewhat later
From her shopping trip down on Main Street,
And found him in bed with her bonnet
Just as cold as her delicate feet.

And this is the end of the story
As she thought her man died in his sleep,
Dreaming of her and her cooking
Upon perfectly fitted green sheets.




Snap / dVerse ~ Poets Pub

Blogs or Posts, D's Photos, D's Poetry, Favorites, Music, Virginia Beach


Birds at dawn
Crashing surf
May I catch
Your mirth?
Booming moments
Ceding waves
Will this photo
“Op” behave?
On screen,
Will the colors
Be surreal?
In the dark lit
Digit womb
Does the photo
Edit steal?
A moment’s love
And flight,
Those eyes,
Your style.
Will I capture
Cries in space,
Or cast ideals

Mythos/ Del Mar
[audio:http://www.virginiaphotos.net/wp-content/uploads/2012/01/03-Del-Mar.mp3|titles=03 Del Mar]

On The Night Before Christmas

Blogs or Posts, D's Poetry

It was the night before Christmas
And all through the house
The children were sleeping
And dreaming of louse.
The TSA groper
Who touched Grandma’s hair.
The loud politician
Who wants her bank shares.

Still they all hoped as they fitfully slept
That Santa would shatter the ghosts in their heads.
Pay off the mortgage
Fix up the car
Empty the bottles in stepfather’s bar.

And then they all heard near the roof such a clatter
They knew in their hearts it must be
The great Santa.
But what did they know of the world that dark night?
Or the diver next door who was just now in flight.

He fell from the window a sack on his back
St. Nick’s alter ego a thief dressed in black
A man on a mission with dough on his mind
Now lost in a snowdrift for police to find.

It seemed there would be no true Christmas this night
No Santa or elves and no cries of delight.
But then just before the first cracks of dawn
North Korea decided to lob a few bombs
While this time its neighbor responded in kind!
Countries allied with each joined in the fray
Lighting the dawn brighter than brightest day.

Old Santa was doubtful he could find his way
As mushrooming clouds sprouted up round his sleigh!
And Rudolph’s nose underneath this display
Twas no help at all. . .

He was just in the way.

Then the children awakened to hear such a racket
They wondered what possibly could be the matter
Not knowing this morning that lost in the wind
Tiny particles swirled around spelling their end.

But Santa was not just a cheerful old man
Or an overgrown elf with misguided fans.
He still had one piece of magical coal
And now he decided to give it a go.

He opened his bag under twinkling stars
Silently triggering the biggest by far
Nova explosion the world had ever seen.

For a second it was just a tiny bright light
Then it silently burst overwhelming the night
Leaving the earth in its wake just a speck
A present for all the true pains in the neck.

* * * * * * * * * *

Twas the morning of Christmas
As children awoke
To glistening snowflakes and rainbows above.
The fairies and elves
Flitted round their bright faces
Laughing and charming them all with their graces.
Grandparents lost years ago in sad times
Ran to their children
Dressed in their prime.
Tears turned to crystals
Of many bright colors
Santa arrived
As true joy was discovered.

Then I heard Santa say
As I felt his keen sight

“Merry Christmas to all”
“And to all a good night”

But then under his breath he said one more thing

“Aggressors everywhere have got to beware”
“Or Santa’s game”
“Will fix your hardware.”

Virginia Breeze and the Chamber of Commerce

Blogs or Posts, David's Writing

, originally uploaded by Davidlind.

Your blogging friend has been asked to do the photos for a Visitor’s Guide published by the Chamber of Commerce in this area.

How about that?  And it’s a perfect time of year to take some photos of the outdoors with the leaves just starting to seriously turn different colors.

This publication will go out to thousands of people in the area and it will include a bio of the photographer. So I will be taking a lot of photos in the next few weeks. And there should be some photos of Heaven being published soon because that’s where I will be.

This has also got me thinking about publishing a book of poems and photos using Amazon.com. I’m a little late for this Christmas but we will see.

First things first and the Visitors Guide.

I will let you know how it goes.

Also a new edition of WordPress has come out today.  It offers a couple of security fixes so it’s probably a good idea to “get er done”.   And prior to that . . . Today would be a good day to BACK UP the blog.  In fact I am going to do it right now and suggest you might want to do it too.

Happy Boss Day (October 16th) Or Any Day HEY-HEY

Blogs or Posts, David's Writing

I was having a bad day when I wrote this poem over a year ago.  It’s the most popular post ever here at Virginia Breeze.   Why is that do you think?  It doesn’t say very much about the quality of this blog.  Does it?   I was thinking about a boss I had a long time ago when I wrote it.  And I was also thinking about someone more recently in my life (unfortunately) who THINKS she is my boss*. So I had a great time doing this and released all the negative feelings and let them go with a laugh. Such a silly poem.  Tickets, please!!

*And it’s not my wife by a long shot.  So Happy Bosses Day everyone!


Dear Boss I wish you well this year

And well upon your way from here.

May soon you land on distant shores

Where they won’t let you pray before

They sacrifice your scrawny butt

And hang your head above a hut

Next to the tribal eating place

Where you are served up after grace.

Because they really love to eat

And you are such a lovely treat.

So here’s a ticket. There’s the boat

Happy hunting you old goat.

You are the prize so don’t delay

Just say goodbye and go away!



Autumn Leaves

Blogs or Posts, David's Writing

, originally uploaded by Davidlind.

This is a photo from last year about this time. I took it at Maymont Park downtown and thought I would put it up again. Apologies to those who have already seen it. We are still waiting for some autumn color around here. The temperature is supposed to be mid 80’s this afternoon.

It’s a cheerful photo and one that reminds me why I enjoy photography so much.

Poetry is important too. The Boss Poem is just a simple little thing and it is being viewed now over three hundred times per day. It’s not StumbleUpon either. It’s search engine traffic and people are apparently concerned about their relationship with their boss.

That’s not surprising. Job concerns have to be high on a great number of lists these days.

Lots of activities may be cut back. But we can all still blog can’t we? We can write prose and poetry. We can take photos and we can offer encouraging comments to each other.

Taking photos is a lot cheaper when you don’t have to develop film. And everyone already has a computer. Maybe dial ups will make a comeback though.

Maybe the photos should be smaller and fewer to the page.

I don’t know. But the weather is terrific and it’s relaxing to run out into nature somewhere and start looking for the beauty wherever she may be.

It’s a recipe for dealing with the emotions that accompany  changing times. Document the changing foliage. Take photos of the clouds.

Update// Well this explains all the readers. . .

Boss’s Day (also known as Bosses Day or National Boss Day) is a secular holiday celebrated[citation needed] on October 16 in the United States. It has traditionally been a day for employees to thank their boss for being kind and fair throughout the year. The holiday has been the source of some controversy and criticism in the United States, where it is often mocked as a Hallmark Holiday. Recently, sites like Hallmark have recognized the holiday with a contemporary spin

from Wikipedia

The Blueberry Fields / Poetry About The Death Of A Loved One

Blogs or Posts, David's Writing, My Poems

This is poetry about the death of a loved one. In this case it is my mother who died in 1992. I was taking photos of the James River one day and went back home to get warm and look at them. It was a very peaceful time and as sometimes happens I began to write. The bushes along the river reminded me of something long ago. . .



They left you on a shelf

Beneath the bricks and a cloudy sky

As we waited for your date with a field of grass.

The gentleman who dressed you was nice enough

And he rolled you out when I arrived to say “Good-bye”.

You rested in the center of the room

As I recalled the plastic flowers

On our dining room table years ago.

All of us plus Pops and Nana too

Thanking God for all His gifts

And the Sunday meals you made.


And this as well.

On a beautiful summer day

You put on a white blouse and skirt

And took me to the blueberry fields.

You laughed as I pretended to take a broken drum

Out the door for the berries.

Then you sang a song just for us

As cool breezes charmed my senses

While goodness found mercy

Next to a stream and gave a little boy

A picture that would last until now.


This morning I went to Starbucks

After watching the river at dawn,

Immersed in making photos with pastel shades of sky

And bushes that seemed blue in the early morning air.

I ordered coffee

To awaken my frozen limbs

And a blueberry scone.

The berries are sweet.

I find them more delicious

Than chocolate

Or wine.





This Is Just To Say

I have eaten the plums that were in the icebox and which you were probably saving for breakfast. Forgive me they were delicious so sweet and so cold.
-William Carlos Williams

Naked In Eden Blog/ Robin Easton

Blogs or Posts, David's Writing

My good friend Robin at Naked In Eden : Ancient Memories in the Australian Rainforest wrote this about Virginia Breeze and its disorganized captain:

VIRGINIA BREEZE: http://davidnotes.com David’s blog has some of the most beautiful and cherished poetry I’ve read in a long time. It has moved me to tears on more than one occasion. If you enjoy heartfelt honest sentiments that speak of the core issues of our lives then grab a cup of tea, slow down and read some of David’s poems. They are written by someone who feels deeply and has an open heart. You will go away feeling like you know him. They are easy to understand and are mated with beautiful photos. My post this month was inspired by David’s poetry. His writing sets me free and encourages me to be authentic. He also writes about a variety of topics I find interesting, warm, real (and sometimes funny).

You can’t ask for anything better than this in the way of endorsements or morale building moments can you?

Robin is a treasure. Every once in a long while you meet somebody who you feel close to immediately and Robin is one of those people. There is a long list of readers who have fallen under her spell and I am one of them. Her writing is irresistible and she is funny, entertaining and brave.

That last quality I find very admirable. This fine lady lived in a rain forest and wrote a book about her life. Doing those kind of things requires courage.

If we are all unique then Robin is not afraid to share that uniqueness with the world. Why write a personal blog if you are not going to share something that your reader will not be able to read anywhere else? That’s my opinion about blogging and I find that Robin is the perfect example of somebody who does this extremely well.

I hope and pray she will always have time to stop by here for a few moments because I have grown very attached to her in a very short time. She motivates me to continue trying to become a better writer.

I hope you will take time to get to know her too. You won’t be sorry. I promise.


Have you met someone while blogging you made you feel this way?



Love’s Aging Moments

Blogs or Posts, David's Writing, My Poems

For all the different loves there are
I find this one to be by far
The one that keeps me up at night
The one that brings us most delight.

It calls to me each time to climb
The tree of passion fruit divine.
Although I sometimes fail to see
The bending grass that waits for me.

And yes I sometimes fall from grace
And land upon a softer place.
These things they seem to come and go
Like antlers on a dear old foe.

I wish our love could always find
Aphrodite and her shrine
Upon the ocean’s frothy shore
So I could dive and fall no more.

And then our nights would last til dawn
As we would roll upon the shore
With taut skin scratched until it bled
And arched back crying to be fed.

With water glistening on your breasts
Hair laced seashells wildly dressed
Bruised lips laid upon my skin
And birds screaming just where we’ve been.

I would grasp your waist below
And lift you up so you would know
My masterful (Dear God) embrace
And never want to leave this place!

Until this happens close your eyes
Remember when our youth belied
The constant setting of the sun
Days to years that soon would run.

For in my heart the blood flows warm
And sometimes wishes it were young.
But in my mind the sand breathes fire
Embracing you with deep desire.

I wish that I could show you more
But know it’s you that I adore
And help me find the script I laid
Between the words of this brief page.

So then we’ll see just what is what
And who is hot and just how much
Eager to visit warmer clime
And merge both blood and open mind.

I hope you’re ready as they say
To see the dragon slayed today.
Make sure the mirrors have been cleaned
So we may view the fateful deed.

Whatever happens most of all
Let me make you laugh somehow.
Your clown prince cometh soon to town
And all do hope he won’t fall down.

And when at last we rest at night
Upon a silent sheet of light
Listening to the dogs next door
Remember I do you adore.
And know tis you that I adore.


Now might be a good time to mention that the voices speaking in each of my poems are not necessarily me! Parts of them might be me or all or none.

Because this poetry as a whole is not about me! Hopefully it will be more entertaining than it possibly could if that were the case. I am trying to write about our human condition and the strong emotions that are a part of it. Love seems to be an easy one for me to write about but maybe at some point I will try some others. But not really dark ones. I won’t be writing about hate anytime soon. Fear maybe. Oh wait. I already did that in the poem about the tiger. Confusion? Is that an emotion? Embarrassment? That’s a possibility.

We will see. Thank you for all the encouragement I have received for poems already done. They really are the soul of this blog and the main source of its traffic as well.


Maybe we will see you at the beach sometime!

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More poetry from Davidlind

Sailing Away

* * *

Last night we gathered on a ship

Our tribe and all our friends,

And sailed for distant galaxies

To find a peaceful land.

The stars received us as we went

Our lives passed through their gaze

We sailed between bright fire and light

Our eyes were all ablaze.

Read more. . . .

Davidlind's Poetry/ Taking Photos and Being Creative

Blogs or Posts, David's Writing

I hope you all will give photography a chance if you have not already done so. A nice camera is expensive but so are many things that we buy. It’s often a matter of priorities. Do we need wide screen televisions?

Yes we do.

Just kidding. We need to find something we enjoy doing that involves our imaginations.

No not that! I’m talking about artistic stuff. Try it and see!

I have a new idea for a poem. Poetry is actually the foundation of this blog. I didn’t plan it that way. But if you look at the stats that is what brings folks here.

This poem will be about (hopefully) a guy who is taking a walk in the woods. It’s a nice day and he is enjoying himself (for awhile). Some distance away a hunter is also enjoying himself. But he is a poor shot. He takes aim at some hapless animal and misses by a mile. The bullet travels in an arc and comes down in the neighborhood of our first guy who is admiring a bird up in a tree.

In fact the bullet doesn’t just come down in his neighborhood.

It comes down on his street.

And into his house.

Through his front door. Ouch.

It’s a sad moment for both of them. The hunter is going to lose his permit to hunt. And our friend is going to suddenly fly off towards the moon. And then he is going to take a right turn towards the sun. Later he will find his way back home in time for his funeral.

And that’s as far as I have gotten this morning. Except I have thought of his name. It’s Billy Getz. Or maybe Willy B Gates. Yes indeed. That’s the ticket.

So you see photography can lead to different things. But all of them are fun. And I hope that reading this blog will encourage you to look inside and discover where you would like to go.

Of course some of you have already gone there. And I see where you have gone and are going in your blogs. And I am truly amazed and bow down to you.

Thanks for being there. Peace.