Ash, Dust, and Embers

Sifting through ash, dust, and embers,
In awe of how the fire had rendered
and scewed this old place--I can't remember
How our house even burnt down.

Confused whether to invest in joy or sorrow;
For building and burning always changes tomorrow
So at least extend your hand, for I'm sure I could borrow
any help in leaving this town.

Finding our portrait in ash, dust, and embers,
and in spite of ruin, you make me remember.
What a fool I've been to again surrender
To what just will return to the ground.

A Student

A student who's swallowed in

  his own institution.

He comes up with problems,

  but can't find solutions.

Every thesis he's thought,

  he's wrote down in blood.

But he can't seem

  to write down Love.

I'm a Travelling Man

I'm a travelling man

who stays in one place;

A frantic sprinter and a runner

keeping perfect pace.

Never tripping or trapping,

pictures keep snapping;

Seeing that tired old smile

on a weary runner's face.

A driver without a license,

a singer singing silence,

A fighter without violence,

and I leave without a trace.

So I'm a travelling man

who never really moves,

Muddling through evidence

that I never try to prove.

A runner and a rambler,

a whiskey ridden gambler;

Cuz I can do it all right here,

because there's always stuff to do.

The Tide

Our mouths open and close

like the rhythms of those

Waves as they crash

and crash on the shore

Forth and back and back and forth.

Like the push and pull of the tide,

We are happy to leave and happy to arrive.

Lost at sea by the touch of your hand,

a drop of water lost in the sand.

Knowing I'll evaporate and rise to the sky

We are happy to live and happy to die.

Monarchy

this was very fun to write.

Monarchy

"Deported!" retorted

  the King from his throne

"Sire, why must you

  evict me from my home?

All I had asked for

  was to trade alabaster

The cause for your laughter

  to me is unknown."

"Peasant, it's pheasant

  I'd much rather have.

It's worth more to me

  and worth more to the land.

So this thing that you present

  I truly resent.

If your life's to be pleasant,

  you'll respect my command."

"It's needed," he pleaded

  "that we have better houses.

Our thatched homes can't keep

  safe our children and spouses.

We can make better homes

  with alabaster and stone.

I know I'm not alone

  in resenting how we are treated."

"I don't care," shared

  the socially unconscious king.

"I care less about your houses

  then almost anything.

So I'll have you executed

  because you disputed

Instead of bowed or saluted

  or at least kissed my ring."

Honor your Monarchs,

  at least to their face.

Because if you don't,

  well, you'll be misplaced.

But if you feel great fervor,

  Conspire in murmurs

To just get them murdered

  and make the world a better place.

The Past Few Days

A few days ago, I decided to make the life decision of writing a poem every day for the rest of my life. Even before this, I've been more productive than I have ever been in my life. In the past two months since I've moved, I've written as many poems as I have in the past year before moving. These are the first poems to come out of my new practice. Here's to poetry!

i

Sometimes I take a shower

  to work things out.

Filling my lungs with steam

  awakes and exhausts

As if being alone in there

  is a daunting task.

Where I'm alone in there

  or alone out here,

I'm slowly, so slowly

  being drained.

So I apologize if when

  you see me,

I look tired.

ii

A letter spurned from

  weathered terms

of association;

From tethered words

  that sweat and earned

their own creation.

I'll write back knowing eyes

  and cordbound lines

of what we could be.

Then You'll organize

  our boarded times

and visit me.

iii

Like grabbing through a cloud

  in hopes to find rain;

You asked me how I felt

  and I tried to explain,

But I've thought about it all day,

  and I just don't know.

I just hope that if I name it,

  the feelings would go.

iv

The moonlight lights me eyes

Reflecting skies

long passed by.

I step back in time

To bonfire nights

Tracing constellations.

I drift through sleepless sights

As I have to write,

I turn on lights,

And force it out.

Then I dance around

in the sensation.

v

Without telling me you came in,

  and sat down quietly.

Without even speaking, we

  carried conversation silently.

I told you everything I thought today;

  You told me all of yours.

And we spoke secret things, you

  spoke your voice inside of me.

We forgot every trouble, we became

  lost in our cure.

vi

The blow of the wind came upon

my fields--its voice shook the trees;

A Hollow sound, the birds are gone

And winter killed the leaves.

I heard you Howl, pierced the dreams

In my abode, resounding through its creeks;

A Hollow sound, that tears the seams

And caused all of my leaks.

I remember sound, resounds through my bones,

There were fuller trees, the air was warm;

This place, this time, memory alone

Resides the solace I take in Storm.

a sonnet

Those moments when we have nothing to do,

But even then we laugh and sing all day.

We jumped and then the wind picked up and blew

Us up from where we were to where we stay

Right now. Just us with everyone we know;

With those who with the wind cling and remain,

Who fly with every wind and every blow,

And pour from every cloud and every rain.

It seems that we're impervious to storm,

Though wet and worn from all that poured on down.

Our flesh is cold; our hearts are keeping warm,

Because we've both acknowledged what we've found.

So even if today we haven't done a thing,

It means we're somewhere, finding songs to sing.

You and I

Somewhere along the line we've split;

Two people whose hands no longer ache

For each other's hands to grab and fit

To paint a picture only we could make.

When I try and look for you

You always try to walk away;

When really all I want to do

Is hear the things you used to say.

I get my hope from stories told

To myself to make me feel

That even if we both grow old

That we'll have found something real.

And that my passions will finally seep

into your dreams--One in sleep.

novembers

This was written this morning, a reflection of the past couple, very eventful days.

novembers (october 2010)

The cold air hits my lungs

and I remember it's autumn

It is a song that I've sung

But long since forgotten

It's the sound of the leaves

On the streets that we walk

That air that we breathe

And exhale when we talk

Or the games that we'd play

as we'd jump on the lawn

All the things that we'd say

That would make up our song

I remember old Novembers

From the smell of the sky

And can't help but surrender

To older things still mine

A Letter Back Home

There are letters to home

that I've never sent

Filled with the thing that I

always meant

To say or do, or people

to thank

Then I looked

at the page

And I drew

a blank

There's a prodigal son

who won't return home

He says to himself

I like being alone

Alone he finds he's

a hypocrite

"Sometimes it's not my

clothes that have the best fit"

I wrote a letter to home

that I'm scared to address

I don't want to bring them here

this place is a mess

A cacophony consisting of

unending noise

And amongst the choir I'm

finding my voice.

I love the beach

So for the very first time in a very long time, I've written a prose piece that I actually am happy about. And in events pertaining to reality, lately I've been seeking out poetry slams and open mics. Poetry performance is really a great experience; I've had the opportunity to do a few readings. Let us hope more is to come.

The Beach (September 2010)

I love the beach--any beach that faces a vast, intimidating body of water. Even Milwaukee has this; Chicago has it too. I love it because it's a wild, chaotic tumult of atoms ever-changing. At night, the water merges with the sky, starless and black, an abyss. I get lost in it. A drop of water in the ocean. So beautifully simple, yet just as vast and changing as the city that resides on its shores.

I'm very happy here--astoundingly adjusted and comfortable. A part of me never left home; a part of me never lived anywhere but here. In the torrent of souls and bodies that prance upon this distant corner of the universe, I feel that finally the two have aligned. My body is where my soul has always wanted to be. In the clash and clamour of the life within the ocean's depth, I swam out--finally, an egg being hatched. A spec of algae, who finally attained that last cell he needed that would make him glow.

So I glow, and in the light I emit, I see the other specs who finally found their own light. And in that light we emit, this night ocean is on longer black.

Three Friendship Poems

All of these have been within the last (truly astounding and eventful) week.

1

Smiles light our

eyes

as we speak

Our ears delight to

feel

a fresh snow

Our soul jumps

at

these Virgin Voices

Curtains pull back

slowly

We can't wait to see

What could be

back there

2

You spoke, then I spoke

the room turned

You spoke, then I laughed

the room changed colors

You spoke, and I listened

the room grew windows

You spoke,

finally we were in a

new room

3

a cloud breaks, eyes

glimmer at this fog's release

(because now we

see each other)

and it rains

so we bathe in the storm,

and it burns white hot

(lips) purify

(flesh) becomes the metallurgist's tools

a cloud forms,

the rain cools us down

"what's hidden inside our chests?"

With every shift in my life, I'm so glad to look back at these words and say "I still feel this."

"what's hidden inside our chests?" (april 2010)

This is almost challenging

So much light,energy,

joy

Caged next to my lungs

That my organs are crowded

And I burst,

Am never the same again

-----------------

I can’t stop laughing

It’s all so lovely here

Like pain doesn’t exist

Like there’s no corner

this Light can’t reach

Words don’t make sense anymore,

It’s all hysteria,

Gorgeous hysteria

Everything I am,

is just a fit of laughter

"I don't know what to say, I say"

I don't know what to say, I say

As you ask me to dance

I smile, it's been a while

Since I've taken the chance

You say: it's okay

And our hips start to sway

Lost in your laughter

I forget my own name

Ashamed as you catch

My eyes look away

"Stay..."

stay.

The sky welled with tears

As I got in the car

And your eyes when your ears

Heard "I can't be where you are"

Perhaps I'm afraid if I stay

Nothing will change

The lines in the street

The sound of your name

"stay..."

no.

This is a love letter,

A knit sweater,

To keep you warm

To have the work of my hand

When you don't have my arm

"Stay," okay, but we're

Changing our names

We'll be different people

In a different place

"No", you said, "Stay."

Then, I don't know what to say, I say

You treat me to your lips

And I walk away.

seeds of impermanence that i just can't tell you

14 (august 2010)

Impermanence swallows

the ground

our beliefs stand upon

All we hold are the bare

bones

Perhaps this is

Truth.

But even that truth is

variable.

whispered (july 2010)

I'm repressing

the

only secret

[the

only thing]

That I want you

to know.

But you can't

know; it'd be

best though

If I told

you.

seeds (july 2010)

I wonder:

would a seed willingly

die

if he didn't know

he'd become a

beautiful

tree?

but the seed

dies

anyways.

Secret Meeting

(I just wrote this like a minute ago, so this is about as fresh as my poetry gets)

Secret Meeting (august, 2010)

I'm the only one in the house

The only one who even knows I'm here

So we all come out and talk

Update each other on all the news

Every me's [eyes] open up and see

All the people staring at us through the window

Perhaps they want something.

I know some of them, in fact

Some of them Love me

But they saw a secret meeting

And we're all embarrassed

One of us motion to close the blinds

But we urge him to stop

And just stare back, smiling.

It's Morning

morning (june 2010)

It's Morning

Sunlight peels the darkness

slowly from the earth,

and opens its eyes,

Yawns

Stretches

She gets up, shakes it all off like a nightmare

A little semblance of something

Perched in the back of her head

But she moves with a purpose

Today will be beautiful

She'll make sure of it

trees (july 2010)

Trees naturally grow and grow

and yet we are still surprised when

their branches break off

(this next one is real old; i apologize for my own adolescence. but it might be worth the read.)

ii (december 2008)

take, take all i have

here's what i've kept

it should be a part of you

as much as it is of me

i am what i'm not

and i'm not what i am

i'm giving to you

all i've ever had

i've been carrying it all

and it's breaking my back

i have what you don't

you have what i lack

we'll be like torches

we'll build a church

there's nothing like confession

to prove your worth

months of silence

three days of speech

a little bit closer

to what i'm to reach

but i'm scared to talk

more to be heard

afraid of misinterpretation

of my written words

i am what i'm not

i'm not what i am

i'm seeing how i'll fit

into some bigger plan

he's more than i am

but he put me here

he took when i said take

and all i had was fear

dogs, roads, and the ocean

old and new; really trying to give a good overview of my body of work. also, i just have one more push of editing to finish my first collection. it's like 50 poems, i think, perhaps its more like 40 or 35. the name is "i tried to whisper, but it wouldn't work". i could probably diy rig some copies for those who are interested, but i'm not prepared yet.

dog in transit (april, 2010)

A dog, in transit

from one owner to the next.

He's hardly been fed;

But the youngest boy in

his old family

loved him

The dog is wary,

in his little box,

in the back of the van

He looks at every home

Every family, thinking

"which one's mine?"

Roads (march 2010)

Darling, let's keep moving

Though the cars broke and

You blamed me

Let's not regret a single mile

or take back any word

Maybe you can't tell,

but I understand

shh, speak quietly and carefully

Please, stop hurting me with

Your eyes, your lips

That which once gave me the purest peace

Darling, don't stop walking

I know your feet are blistered

Mine are too

If you were willing

I would carry you

I could love you again

The Ocean (august 2010)

I stood and spoke

but didn't Say

a word

I shut my mouth

and Heard

crashing waves

The pond

I swim in

is actually

The Ocean

three poems

some more recent than others

Ideas (may, 2010)

I have the most wonderful idea:

Let us never stop laughing

like we're keeping a secret

Let us always dance when we're together

as if we're performing for the world

Let us act like we're alone together

even when we're surrounded by people

Let us act like we've been One for many lifetimes

though we've yet to meet

And let me never forget

all the things I've yet to discover with You

88:88 (june, 2010)

I set the clock to 88:88 and I watch time unravel

and I travel to the place where the structure has collapsed

I gasp, it's obvious why the whole thing has snapped

Once the damage is done, well, there's no going back

There was but a thin grasp on reality holding it up

So of course it came down, it simply wasn't enough

To keep the universe from falling to its knees

We scream at everything we've come to believe

"I know this happens to others, but why'd it happen to me?"

You see, this structure is weak because when I look at Faith

I see shattered expectations, and hope as the bait

This place didn't come down due to lack of faith in some God

Its when your soul has a longing and your head tells you not

to pursue these things that make us feel so alive

We simply do these things because otherwise we'd die.

It's 88:88 and I watch the world spin out of control

and spin off into this gigantic and gorgeous black hole

My soul looks at it all and begins to find peace

The skeptic inside says "Don't be deceived"

Why am I so concerned if God is a lie

When I'm convinced by fragile things like structure and time

My senses are the deceivers, the would be receivers

Catching every arbitrary thing it knows how to catch

Then we see a thing like You, and it all quickly snaps

In this little chaos, I feel oddly at home

As if I'm remembering why I was never truly alone

It dawns on me for a second that I'm staring at God

Because God is everything about us that our soul has forgot

"please leave" (july 2010)

I put on a blanket,

bundled up,

But it's no longer cold

Sweat and discomfort build

I sleep this way

for days.

You walked in, completely

Uninvited

But I let you

stay

for days.

An Introduction to Everything

Hello. My name is David Ori Skattebo, and I am a writer (at least that's what I tell myself). It occurred to me recently that I should probably indulgently insert myself into the blogosphere. So this is it. Considering I'm on year six in my poetic life--though the first three hardly count, considering I was twelve--I have a lot of catching up to do as far as posting material. So I might do a small "best of" series, punctuated by newer poems. Thank you for reading. Much love.