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Farewell, old friend
    Old Man of the Mountain

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Picea Candidus

Catch up with John's previous
musings in his own personal

Picea Candidus

By John Flynn McGondel


Copyrights By John Flynn McGondel

Was always you and only you
Who always tore my heart in two
Till finally we had no nest
Instead: a hole inside my chest
Around my heart of dampened fire
I built a fence of barb-ed wire
And to that fence, lest I should cry
I further did electrify
And then a moat, I dug with fears
And full it filled, with my last tears
And in that moat some sharks do swim,
To shelter me,
From your next whim...


Copyrights by John Flynn McGondel

Again I wipe the window glass
But the rain: it is not stopping
The nurse's aide tells me again
He'll come when he stops mopping
I sit back down but I can't read
Since all the books are rained upon
And he comes up and dries my face
And then the rain: at last is gone
I wonder how it rains inside
I wonder every day and night
Especially when the sun is out
And even when the moon is bright
But that's okay, today's not bad
My ex-wife came and acted sad
She kissed and hugged me then was gone
To HE whom had our marriage torn
So now again I wipe and try
Though sun it shines and hands stay dry
To send away that constant rain
That I might see, for real again...


Copyrights John Flynn McGondel

In a ladies room she watches through the window,
And cries for the little girl in there
She feels her sadness and the poor girl's grief
But watches in silence, not daring to care
The broken glass, the reddened floor
While the other girl moves slowly moves back toward the door
Her face is a mask as she watches the blood
As it streams and splatters, from her wrist, like a flood
She watches and waits as the glass seems to fog
It's hard to see clearly, through thenow broken panes
As the other girl slowly sinks to her knees
Knowing full well she's freed from her chains
They gaze at each other through blood-spattered shard
And each of them smiled, though smiling is hard...
As they watch as the pool on the floor widens slowly
They look one last time at each other, so lonely...
Her last thoughts came slowly, she felt weak in her head:
...that the window was no window- a mirror instead
As her life drained away, and her classmates were screaming
For that broken little girl,
Whose sin had been dreaming...


Previously published under the titles: "ETERNAL SEARCHERS" and "GRASPERS"
Copyright 1993
John Flynn McGondel

Through darkened doorways we do slip, cautiously racing
Across fog-shrouded alleys, our goal uncertain, a vague guess only
And hope...
As we ceasely and unrelentingly reach for the stars
To what end, we know not
Yet even as we venture toward the void that we call space
Our destiny has been pre-determined
Not by ourselves, but by ancestors who
While scampering about tree-tops primeval
Reach further, ever further onto treacherous wispy twigs
Toward that elusively-higher piece of fruit
Always with care not to fall downward, back to the ground
As ages passed and ambitions sharpened
We find ourselves reaching eternal, still
For that fruit, though touch it we cannot
So praise not ourselves, and salute instead:
Those ancient ones, those graspers of the higher fruit
From whom we are descended
For what be the stars? if not ripe peaches
Waiting for our yearning souls
To pluck them from their branches:
Our sky



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