Our presence in the world, with love.

Your body has become inspiration enough,
like gathering together a private map
of my world,

transfixed in a moment,

coming and going; arriving and departing,
at times,
when I see you, in dream.

How do you do it,
keeping yourself present while absent?

The very air you breathe,
when we're breathing together,
pulls me closer, inward and outward
it goes;


and, we lie, spread out,
in discovery;
in intimate knowledge
of our faithfulness
in the known
contours we share.

~x~William ~copyright 11/10/2009.

Advice to the Ancients [Notebook]

Sometimes,
There are half-measures
That shine.

Build on this
When words
Call to you.

Expand from these small things,
Because, life awaits.

Every word
May be important

In their place.

~x~William.

FYI :

Today was a pretty special day for me:

I've completed a 2nd book of poetry, a companion volume to "The Wind Shall Hear my Words..." [entitled: "...and, The Stars will speak them."]. The book includes some of the poems that have been posted here, as well as some that have gone unpublished.

I hope to send the finished manuscript to the publisher on October 9th, 2009.

As I always say, "onward & upward."

Clouds

In the other room,

a piano, softly, plays.

**

I'm watching the clouds now;

shifting shapes,

slowly,

drifting along,

with my thoughts...



...Your fingers, on the keys,

brush the elements:

a body of motion,

you've seemed.

to me.


**

As clement,

is this beauty,

a touch, pierces the heart.


The softness of skin, lingers,

in each subtle touch

of melody...

...and, You are here,..

..but not.

**

I'll open up myself,

to Nature,

and, Time's

inclement moments.

**

We'll embrace the clouds

this evening;

sharing, each stroke;

each, swept hands, brush.

**

So,

as I linger here,

half-way to you

and the skies blessings;


Like some love-struck field-hand,

The light, at least, for now, my Love,

has settled

behind

the Clouds.



`x~William ~ copyright 10/04/09.
[Ps: this poem has been published in another venue]

A Monumental Request

I've been asked to write
about happiness:
Smiley faces, and babbling brooks;
Or, the pursuit of happy books--
Evidence of timely things, stacked upon the shelves
And,
Giving the goose to childish things.

Sometimes, the glee is tamped-down,
And there aren't any cheerful moments.

It is the nature of life, they say, to be as rollicking as a roller-
Coaster;
As large in its emotions as an ocean of tears.

Happy is as happy goes.
If you're smiling now, dear ones,

I've hit the mark.


Today, I've chosen to lean toward your request.
I've chosen to smile
On a rainy day.

`x~William ~copyright~ 09/27/09.

....Sexy One.

The way you
Hold your head
in your hands;
an upturned, saucy, smile
tells me all.


I want to be consumed by you;
each moment,
tied to you.

Your embrace
is what I long for.

Your face,
in my hands....

...Kissable lips,
so lightly,

Longing,

To love.
`x~William ~~Copyright 09/26/09

Untitled [Notebook]:

I'll begin with the word, "untitled"; its transparency, and its invisibility,
Heavy with whatever meaning

You'll will it to be. The world will enter here,
Just as unknown, as long as we let it be.

I want to treat each word as a jumper upon a trampoline;
Reaching for the heights, the stars. Keep on, in your den,
Because even the untitled find their place,
Never untouchable,
In their riches
Always striving toward sensibility
As close as my doorstep,
And, a walk outside.

Believe, I cried,
To a world
Too loud to hear.

Even those things untitled,
Are given a place,
And, the choices we make,
Our own.

Never fear,...

...She said. Walk all those roads,


And,

Settle your sights upon home.

`x~William ~ copyright 09/23/09

Where's William??????????????????????:

[music for "staycation"]



I'm taking a short break in blogging & being online.

See you all, once again, in two weeks.
I need a staycation*, badly.

`x~William. 09/1109.

* A vacation, close to home & inexpensive.

Five, Six, Seven, Eight, and Nine

Somewhere,
between
Katrina and now
we had

lost you.

The remnants still linger,
and time doesn't stand still;
even though, we may
at times think it does.

It is just a trick of the senses,
casting out its reel,
and latching on,
without knowing what
the surface holds.

Those years,
stacked up,
carry all the weight of changes;
some more subtle than others.

The memory of you
is a fine thing
solid as brick.


In my life,
moving forward
never seemed harder.

The bag upon my shoulder,
no longer has the heft
of accumulated stones.

My heart
is full,

Forever
now;

singing the years,
like a favorite
number.

Love as always~William~copyright 09/24/2009.

Wandering.

It's always best not to set your sights too high;
Feeding small animals, or a walk in the park, is enough
For one day.

You can smile,
While admitting
The years you've worked;
Capturing each patch
Of crab-grass in your hand,
Each moment reached, breached,
And, bridged by concentrated effort.

The world will not be still any longer. There aren't any silent moments
In the City; however, you can wander there
Even in the center of a crowd.

The best years are ahead of you.
Never be fearful of wandering.
Those many roads
Are forever calling.

All the best things come
While spinning your thoughts:

The wind shall hear my words...
...And the stars will speak them.

Let your solitary moments,
He said,
Shine.

`x~William ~copyright 09/08/09

Creative Housework

I'm never
too quick
to clean.

I like my dust,
because it reminds me
that I'm still
living.

And, this...

...Well,
it makes me
happy.

`x~William ~ copyright: 08/28/2009.

Youth Movement:

Of course,
you're different.

we all were,
back then,
when we
were your age.

Words were different;
and,
they carried more weight:

a bright bit of typewritten
words seemed solid, lasting

into a Summer's day,
when being solitary
brought rewards.

You're finding your voice,
reaching for stars.

We were waiting,
back then,
same as you;

something that breathed
independence--

loving and
different--

like you.



`x~William H. Balzac ~ copyright 08/17/2009.

Life [Notebook]

It steps in front of you,
saying, "What's the meaning of this?";
throwing down the gauntlet of its immensity.

Somewhere, a bird lifts itself from the branch,
hovering for just a minute.

Then,

like a tribute to progress,

swoops low over a fisherman,

reeling in a bass.

You must capture the moment
like this.

In life,
you'll find,
all of the fleetingness of numbers enacted in the shadings,
between dawn and dusk.

The eye follows the bird;
keeping faith
with the journey.

`x~William H. Balzac ~ copyright 08/14/2009.

To Do.

In life,
you only have
control over so much;
asking only now
to get from Point A
to Point B.

Nature, ongoing,
falls back upon itself;
never seeming
to love a vacuum.


There will always

be another


bus.


Doesn't it feel good,

letting the raindrops


fall upon


your tongue?


`X~William ~copyright ~ 08/10/09.

Journey [Notebook] :

Working your way outward

your words seem indistinct

of meanings


thrown together

like a mosaic of many colors.



Everything falls into place


eventually.



Time loves a consistent objective


and abhors dilly-dallying,

procrastination,


and small words.




Some people



"Speak softly,


and carry a big stick."


Others, more reserved,

by far,


bring to the table


the same-old patterns,


attached to faulty wiring;

a house,

of many voices,--electric


--soon to short-out.



As you move forward,


carefully question


the many points of departure.



Your Journey,


individual,


carries each word


abidingly


from the start.


`x~William ~copyright ~ 08/07/09

For the Notebook:

In hand, beneath your armpit,
the marble
and black binding

carries an unrecognized heft;
a school-boy's trial with English

skirting 'round
street-corners

like an unlikely teacher's pet.

These days,
I still write with an eraser-tipped pencil,
diligent notes;

the hand,
as quick as the eye,
and, the words
as precious as marble.

`x~William ~ copyright~08/03/09.

Poem

Where do the words come from?
In stillness and quiet
Every simple thing
is set in stone

Never to be
taken away

The explication
and application
a wandering voice

Given freedom
a chance
to breathe

comfortably
upon the page

`x~William ~ copyright: 08/01/09.

After [Notebook]:

It seemed simple, how you walked the earth, carrying his rib into your future. The Earthworks were small then; battlements, and barricades were invisible, without any thought to War. The pastures were your magic carpet, laid out, spread across miles and miles of green. In the heavens, the big guy looked down in wonder, re-making all the rules of Temptation a blue bit of Knowledge for the coming generations. The full-blown Sixties would see you free; love, in constant flux, was a cautionary tale, gathered by the wise and infirm. For one, shining moment, History became a tablet, always re-written.

A man and woman raise their heads from the pillow, and
Drink new wine. The love-birds, feather their nest.

Somewhere, in the after-Time, they are re-born;

Peaceful Night, for Clinging desire,

Some other fire

Stoked.

`x~William ~ 7/31/09

Moon

Being tenants of this Earth
we gave praise to spaciousness,
while filling in the barrenness
with mud-huts and sticks.

The challenge and promise
to advance, gave sunlight new meaning:

Fields tilled; berries picked; and,
weather reports, occupied the farmer's thoughts

For stretching into Spring seemed an eye's-blink
of each great leap of an accounts book's
figures.

I often think of Armstrong's hand;
the way in which it had blocked-out the Earth.

Space,
no longer free of an individuals destiny,
seeks the smallness
of great things.

This is what the Sharecropper knew,
as those first steps were taken,

and, our deeds,
live on

in a Timeless, transcendent,



space.

`x~William H. Balzac ~ copyright~7/20/09.

Where do you go?

To live, and not be afraid.
To be all of who you are,
and all of who you can be.

This is where the "rubber meets the road";
the timeless forward march sees us through.

Only to live,
without curses or shouts.

And, only to love,
as the poets do.

`x~William ~ copyright~July 19,2009.

All That is Given [Notebook]:

The past can be a blessing or a curse. What advice shall I give? Is it a wanted thing;
now peering at the world with a jaundiced eye?
Capture kindness in your hands, before you leap.
Open yourself to the rough and tumble.
Play the game of love with reciprocation
Enjoy whatever the light or dark brings you.

Move forward, little one,
and carry the good
of all that is given.

love as always, William ~~Copyright: July 10, 2009.

Have a Super 4th of July!

Love as always

`x~William.

The Curse of Nostalgia [Notebook]

Only a long walk would've brought me there;
gathering lines and half-forgotten rhymes, along the way.
What had I learned today?:

You've got to be careful with time,
never to slip back too far
into illusions, fully formed
although, remade.

There, upon the path,
I'd stumbled,
in making new memories;

turning left
and abiding to my right,

with History all around me.

`x~William~~~ copyright~ o6/30/o9

June 30, 2009 :

I sit in one of the dives At Jone's Beach Uncertain and Celebratory As the clever hopes lift me above The low dishonest decade: Waves of empathy and compassion Circulate over the brilliant And darkened sandboxes of the earth, Obsessing over private lives; The unmentionable gossip of death Offends the June night. Accurate court-reporting can Unearth the whole, bloody, offense From Luther until now--Post-haste!-- That has driven a culture mad, Finding Lindsey Lohan lacking, What beauties imago made A psychopathic god: I and a million Iraqis know What all schoolchildren learn, Those to whom evil is done Do evil in return. However, those Millions were occupied. Exiled George knew All that a whisper can say About Democracy And what Good People do. The withering rubbish they spout To an all-too silent grave; Analyzed, by Generations of Boomers The enlightenment driven away, The habit-forming Vonnegut, Along with a Mismanagement of the Budget: We must suffer them In other more stately guises Again. Into this Swiss-like air Where blind skyscrapers reach Their full height to proclaim The strength of Collective Soul, Each wordsmith pours their vain Competitive excuse: But who can live for long In an Cabana's dream; Out of the mirror they stare, With Michael Jackson faces And the international String Quartet, bids us all farewell! Faces along the bar Cling to their sweaty pints: The lights must be lit on the porch, The music must speak for them All, All the tongue-waggers conspire To make this Arsenal-punter's abode Assume The furniture of home; Lest we should see where we stand, Lost in a hallowed wood, Children dreaming, Soft dreams of armies at Night Who've never been coddled or shunned. The militant clowns Important Persons shout Is not so crude as our wish: What mad Newman wrote About Alfred Is true of the satiric heart; so, What me worry?, aye, For the error bred in the bone Of each woman and each man who Craves marriage, along with Gay People have, Not universal love But to be loved as you would a Divorce Lawyer. From the Conservative Jive Into the eternal life The dense commuters come, (Paying the bitched fare-hike) Repeating their morning vow; 'I will be true to the conductor, I'll concentrate more upon savings,' And helpless governors wake To resume their Sanford-like games: Who can release them now, Who can reach them when they're 6,ooo friggin' Miles away! Who can speak for these idiots!!!!!? All I have is a voice And, blessed is this 'Cause I'm losing it. The romantic lie upon beach towels, Naked. Of the sensual man-in-the-grey-felt-hat, And the lie of Atlas Whose statues grope the breasts of Megan Fox: There is no such thing as the next Day, And no one exists on a pill-box; Hunger allows tummy-rumbles To the People or the Coppers; We must love one another or Fly!. Defenseless under the sunscreen Our world in stupor lies; Yet, quite speckled, everywhere, Ironic points of confusion Flash out wherever TMZ Exchange their messages: May I, composed like them Of Eros and Erections, Beleaguered by the same Newer words and desperate prose, Show an affirming flame. [thanks, Auden] x,William H. Balzac. 6/30/09

Cinema Salad Days :

When we've gotten to the end
it'll be very easy to say,
these sure did hold up well

Maybe, a bit grainy,
in the subtle shifts
as the There and Then
throttles itself
lurching,
Forever into
the Here and Now

We see the beanstalk
amongst the cabbages
lifting its lofty head
above all the rest

The smile,
ever a cock-Eyed optimist
taking in all of the Orders,
knowingly

Who was it, by God,
behind the camera,
hands quite shaken. Could be drink;

however, we all seem so happy,
as in a holiday
Sunset now and the Chinese lamps are lit
and

the gatherings remain
with Love.

`x~William copyright 6/28/o9

Well Read :

My degenerative eyes
scan the horizon.

Troubled words
waver to and fro
like dust motes,

half-quotes,

and, lapsed Catholics.

My syntax
no longer bothers me. Every
thing
is taken in
stride.

The bills
are paid
now

with closed eyes.

`x~William-copyright 06*27*09

Neda :

For one brief moment
the veil was lifted
and, no more cudgels
were blocking your sight;
no more, chanting,
shatter the night.

Falling, from the shoulders,
you were surely
rising; reaching,

unseen,
by Our eyes.

"Be not afraid,"
spoke a familiar voice:
Older,
Wiser,
Courage...

....Swift in flight,
forever, now.

Look!
One,
white dove,
Reborn,
to a song


of


Freedom.

**`x~William~Copyright~6*24*09.

Well. That's Hopeful! :)

Aquarius

---

Your focus drifts from yourself to others -- possibly to the world as a whole! Your great mental energy should help you figure out some new way to make a real difference in others' lives.

Seasonal :

Now,
there's some new grass up,
where there used to be dirt.

The Old tree,
in front,
tells a new tale;
leaning,
in its top-most branches,
and,
budding further away
from its Winter lashings.

Later,
I sit in my tee-shirt sleeves,
praising the warmth on my face;
writing of the ripples upon water,
or,
the stories, within circles,
within
trees.

`x~William. copyright~06/17/09.

"Poetic Analysis" :

Note:
Sometimes, you just have to let go.

**

"Poetic Analysis" :

I am the stone in my father's shoe;

the tall-boy
in the study

being crowded out
by the Elephant
in


The Living room.


~Love as always,

William. copyright~6/16/09. 3:58PM.

Reflections (Notebook):

It's all a matter of language and place:
each ripple of the water
leaves traces
as they fade,
inevitably,
from the surface.

So many skiffs have traversed the shore,
seeking companions;
stargazers, with compass in hand.

Each day,
truly is a journey.

The landlubber sees beauty in this.



`x~William. copyright~6/12/09

Audio/Video: "The Geography of Positive Regard [Notebook] :

You may have to turn up the volume...just a bit.
[I swear, I did not intentionally set out to sound like an English Gentleman on Masterpiece Theater: "Re-GaaaaaaaRD!" ~lol!

Super Hero #2 :

If I told you,
You're a superhero,
would you believe me?

You're not the "Oh-oh-oh,"
zeros
in a comic book balloon.


[No, you're so much more valuable than this;
and, quite frankly, the betterment of society is at stake!]

Each one of you have the power to change the world;
your journey begins,
not in some far-off-place,
but here, on solid ground.

Carry goodness in your heart and mind,
and justice will see you through.

We need superheroes today,
the old ones say.

Believe, my children...

...Believe.

`x~William. copyright-May 11,2009. 3:17PM.

......^_^.......

~x~William. 05/10/09....11:04AM

The Geography of Positive Regard [Notebook]

Beyond his door-step, is where he'd find whatever the world had to offer him. It wasn't time for fear, or the thrusting out of perspired palms.

In keeping with ideals, hard fought, his vision carried losses, only the strong-willed could see.

On his walks, the inclement land renewed itself,
and the old trees sheltered him.
Many years of schoolyard antics
buzzed his awareness,
turning insects into object lessons,
along brooks and rivers,--

the leaf fall, was reward and punishment--
while the hammer's swing, echoed the promise of home.

"Don't touch that it'll burn your hand!,"
was the first indication someone would save him.
The healing would come in teaspoons,
shared sugar bowls, and moderate drinking.
He'd never take his friends for granted. The long-haul, beyond his door

whispered
words

all too big
to hold.

When giving it all, regardless of rain, the smallness of towns expand,
the minor keys
become swallowed by fate;

and, the childhood he remembers,
arrives illuminated:

a constant

and consistent

sunlight,

unseen.

`x~William~copyright: 04/02/09.

Friends & Favorites Award: [more! More! MOre! MORe! MORE!]

I'm a big-time reader. I love reading and writing with a passion. Every two weeks I check two books out of the library. I read the blogs in my Google Reader (sometimes, I comment..sometimes, I don't; however, if I don't comment that doesn't mean I wasn't interested or captured by what I'd read. There have been times I've been rushed off the computer and I've gone back to the site and re-read...And, then, left a comment. It's those blogs I return to, again and again and again..those are my favorites!)

I have lot's of favorite blogs. Lots! So many, in fact, this post would probably take up all of the space provided by Blogger, were I to give it the old College try, listing blogs, as if they were the Forbes 500 [w/o, the Drug cartel, of course]

When I think of blogger's who I'd love to meet, or blogger's I'd love to have as a friend, the list narrows down a bit; (yes,...Lil Bit's on that list. Thanks for the Award, s/h) and, several writers leap to mind. I smile, while thinking of them; thinking of the way they challenged my expectations and helped me see life from a different perspective; thinking, how very fine the writing itself is; and, with a step away, how the images or words made me say to myself, "That's just perfect..just right."

It is to these I set my sight upon first, as I travel this "Matrix" [Lil Bit's word], this Universe, of blogs....the list, ever expanding, grows with each journey of reading.



The "Favorite" Award:

Newest Favorites:

These peeps I've found on my travels. They are like stars. Some are poets, others make me smile, and think at same time.

Number One :

Amy Venezia

"My Bedroom Blog."

If you're Single, (like me) you'll love this blog. Amy has a sense of humor and a spirit that shines each week. Friday's have turned into a day to step-back, before I step out, take a little trip over to Amy's, and read what she's happy about. Reading her, (trust me) will make you happy...You may be looking for love; however, if you read Amy you'll find a compatriot. She's wise, witty, and I'd give my wisdom-teeth to share a Moca (at Starbucks) w/ her.

note: I just realized all my favorites & friends are Women.

**

Number Two:

Single Girl

"Sex, Lies, and Dating In The City"

In the Universe of blogs, there are many venues! Some peeps are not available in my Google Reader; however, this does not stop me from reading (or, venturing into other spaces.) Single Girl is a New Yorker. She's got the goods on Online Dating and she'll tell you (women & men) exactly what can happen when wandering the (sometimes) shark invested waters of the dating experience. With humor, and honesty, she pursues relationships and finds the value in the journey. As a reader, you are welcomed to share your own views, insights, and advice.
She is a valuable resource.

You'll find her blog at onsugar.com ... Single Girl is the sugar in my coffee.

`x~William.

[To Be Continued].....What are you reading??

**

So now, after a bit of absence, let me continue:

Number Three:

Shania

"My Thoughts"

Sometimes, our lives call back to us. Even as we grow, and reach further, beyond the conflicts of youth, the past seems all- too- ready to speak. It comes from a deep place, those stories of our lives; in fiction, the lives referred to are "characters," invented with shades of truth and experience.

Shania's blog is pristine in it's raw moments. She's delved into the trials we all can empathize with, and articulates her experience without sentimentality; gems, of reality, shining upon the page. Recognition, for the reader, builds, with each post read.

This blog is an evolving memoir...

...As such, it requires a commitment to read each part/post and stay with each episode..

Shania's "thoughts" are powerful, well stated, and provocative. Her Journey, from Cali To
Canada, is another new "favorite."

***
Onward, more "favorites"!

***

Number Four:

Sarah

"Sarah's Blogtastic Adventures"

>> Life is an adventure. We chart the course, sometimes, without a map, bumping into situations that give meaning to the day-to-day. Sarah, in her "blogtastic" way, travels the road less traveled and gives smiling testimony to what Magazine Editors call, "Personal Essay" ...She comes across as the kind of person you'd love to sit and chat with , over a flaky croissant. The voice of reason shines with humor. Her life and love of John Denver (yes, I'm a fan of "you fill up my senses ('hummmmm') like a night in the forest") are given their due.

>> I can only sing, with praise....

>>Go say, "hey" to Sarah. She's a goodin', as my Grandma used to say. You'll be glad you did! :)


*****

Number Five:

Christine

"Now What?"

Are you a fan of Winnie The Pooh? Do you suppress the urge to sing the Tigger song, while jumping up and down? Are factoids a curious part of your daily ritual; learning something (about something) you know a lil about, but never knew why "Dat Camel don't sneeze????"

If you answered yes to any of the above questions Christine's blog is for you. Her wit and range of research carries the day. There is a world of things out there you cannot possibly know everything about; however, if you like Trivial Pursuit(s) Christine is a one-stop-shop for giggles....and, all those moments you shook your head and said,
"I never knew that! That's so funny/strange/interesting/amazing/ridiculous/gentle, yet firm/fill-in-the-blank, cuz you're a smarty-pants now!"

Trust me, this blog is a necessary experience.
Christine is a wonderful, generous, blogger.

~~jumping up & down!

Go.....and, catch da habit!

[To be Continued....]

`x~William.

FYI : Marfan Syndrome On Discovery:

Tune in to Discovey Health on Monday, April 13, for the program Mystery Diagnosis, which will feature a segment on Marfan syndrome. This is an in-depth piece that will highlight the difficult Marfan diagnosis journey of NMF member Michael Murray and will leave viewers with important information about Marfan syndrome - what it is, how it is diagnosed and how it is treated.

The NMF is grateful to Discovery Health for their interest and to the members of the Marfan community who were involved in the filming, including Michael Murray, his mom, NMF Board member Karen Murray, their family members and friends; the Kravitz family (especially Jeremy); Dr. Bruce Gelb and Dr Zvi Maron.

Please check your local listings for the time and channel Discovery Health airs Mystery Diagnosis in your area. It is also available on satellite tv.

**

The above is a copy of an e-mail, sent to me, from The Marfan Foundation. As some of you may know, I was diagnosed with Marfan Syndrome when I was 15 years old. If you would like to know more about this genetic disorder, its diagnosis and treatment, you can tune into Discovery Health tonight.

**
`x~William.

Taking A Little [Musical] Break. :)

In the meantime, I'd love to hear your thoughts on my Novel-in-progress. You'll find an excerpt from Part Four [see:blogroll, or Profile page]....

Have a great weekend.

PS: 4/08/09 : I'll have another "Favorite" posted tomorrow [Thursday!]....

Here's a new favorite song/Video for your entertainment!

"Click Me"



`x~William.

Wishes:

It would be music that sustained him;
long nights, and bursts
of breaking
the silence.

Somewhere,
between sunset
and sunrise
his thoughts returned
to far-away people;
solitary beings, just as relevant as he.

He pauses the song,
mid-lyric,
and reaches back with his mind;


a calm container
of wishes.




`x~William / copyright: 03/30/09.

"Don't Worry,...

...it may never happen."

In my mind's eye, I can still see her;
a shimmer of doubt,

settling itself,
upon her face,--

recalling, with forgiveness,
every fearful prognostication,

falling upon the heads of children
like me --

her old,
wise eyes,
reaching past

those words--

so perfect in their comfort--

calling her
to task:

a wooden plaque,
indelibly fixed;

a gift,
she'd bestowed upon
the living.

`x~William ~ copyright-03/21/09.

Eternal Hope :

Life

becomes busy

in Springtime:

Each word read
is plucked from another river,
embracing,
inscrutable genius.

The sky
is a restful
thought,

pillowed,

till the 'morrow.

`x~William ~copyright 03/19/09

THE Friends & Favorites AWARD:

Note: I've been doing some reading today. Ummmm, ...this is going to take a lil bit more time.

This is what the "Favorite" award looks like:


Stay tuned. ...after 12 a.m. (EST)....

`x~William.

Friend AWARD ...from, Lil Bit !

recently, Lil Bit, awarded this to me!



Here are the rules:

“These blogs are exceedingly
charming. These kind bloggers aim to find and be friends. They are not interested in self-aggrandizement. Our hope is that when the ribbons of these prizes are cut, even more friendships are propagated. Please give more attention to these writers. Deliver this award to eight bloggers who must choose eight more and include this cleverly-written text into the body of their award.”

***
***

Eight??? Okay!...I'll try![j/k...I have lot's of friends, honest injin!]

But, be-4 I list my 8 blogger buddies, let me postulate (extemporaneously) upon my dear friend, Lil Bit. She, in her friendship to me, has shown the utmost respect & has seen me through many of life's lil storms. Lil Bit is the kind of friend, who with humor & grace makes you feel as if you truly count for something in this life. She is a super, super, writer, and her gifts in "story-telling" are truly remarkable. This is a friend, who I've never met in-person, and yet, I hope to meet one day. Truth: This friend has extended my life.
I cherish her friendship. Thank you, Lil Bit, for being my friend.

Tomorrow, (Saturday night) I'll rustle up 8 bloggers who I either have as a friend
or, I'd like to be my friend (peeps I have commonality with; shared interests, etc, etc, etc)

[Lil Bit said, "Do with it what you will" :) (with the Award, that is.)]

In the meantime, "click" Lil Bit's name above, or her name in the side-bar. Go say, "hey!"...trust me, she's a super person. Love you, Lil Bit.

`x~William/Bill. 12:24 AM
03/13/09

Poet's Lil Advert. :

`x~William.
03/10/09.[12:04AM]

If...

"If
poetry

were all sweetness and light

there would not be a voice for generations."

Hard Lesson :

Have I said to you everything

that’s needed to say?

**

While the words pull at me,

a spent cigarette smolders in the safety-tray,

a car moves, screeching, up the road,

and, somewhere,

a kid confronts the probable conflicts of the street.

**

Have I told you of all I worry about?

All the worries of my mis-spent youth,

calling back to you;

recalling the presence of doubts and fears,

and the unasked tingle up the spine:

A darkened vision of the dead man,

lying next to a coffee table.

**

The memory of a loss conjures these things.

**

I’m clasping my chest, recalling the absence,

the shock, I felt

on a day like any other:

That empty chair,

tugging at me,

in its solidity;

the silence, encompassing the circle

of a hard lesson learned.

`x~William ~copyright, 03/06/09.

When I think of her eyes, and what they take in...

...everything is just as it was and always will be.


She sleeps in a blue colored dovecote and runs through green colored fields, getting closer;


pulling me closer,


endlessly, into her arms.



Somehow, we always awaken together:


Shared, merged, a fantasy, uninhibited, and sipped like a new glass of red wine.


**


Her eyes behold the same things I've taken in.


Our merging,


has emerged,


in Love.


WHB~copyright 03/03/09.

note to self: drop those commas!!!!!!

The Voices of Children :

Just for a moment
quiet yourself
and listen :

So much of unknowing
gives birth to a gem.

**

The Voice,
so familiar,
is cherished as Kin

for knowing
The What
before
The Wherefore
and
When.

WHB~copyright 03/01/09.

Relics [Notebook]:

Defining love, we fell into the journey. Freud was looking over our shoulders, chastising, with little understanding. Adam awoke and the Universe sang. They could not stop in the naming of things.
Around midnight, the few sparks gathered in an open meadow. These fierce pebbles debated the validity of fire. The water-carriers chirped in defense of the fields. Somebody, held them in check for a Season.
It was love, pure and simple, which brought these bodies together into some semblance of harmony. No Creator could hasten the pieces from falling into place.
The knowledge taken from a tree teaches limits; its rings chart destinies unseen.

If time itself were to collapse, forward motion would be irrelevant. Everything we hold as new would seem like dust particles; here today, gone tomorrow.
We pick things up, turning them in our hands, reaching towards light.

Only in sharing love, the give and take of Ages, do we find the relics to treasure.


`x~William. copyright*02/21/09.~2:48PM

I'm going to...

...try something new.

If I do,
don't be afraid.

Every thing of newness has its rewards and punishments.
When I began,
I was nothing more than a dribble-filled saucer's worth
of half-formed articulations and each vowel sound was music
to my mother's ears and when the time came for over-abundance I let loose
and decided,

quite rightly,

I might add,

to say some thing

new.





`x~William H. Balzac ~02/18/o9~10:43PM.

What We Need:

In these Uncertain Times
We need Poetry.

We call the shots
and call out

the bigger-shots
as they float
their Golden parachutes.

Somewhere,
between para-graphs written
and simple-man wisdom

We see Ourselves...

Us, merging with them;

as luminous as Our

Words.

Poet at Fifty:

Let me write myself

in a corner

and, dare to call it my own:

Its textures were dimpled at birth;

and, the eyes have always had it.

Let whatever wisdom carried

refashion

more stately clothes.

**

Let the Light that shines on all

be ever in my grasp.

**

I praise this day

and my lonely soul

and whatever

its captured;

its worth.

WHB~copyright: 02/12/09.

A Foot In The Stream:

I’ll tell you I’m working on it and you’ll know I’ve never lied;

each small step

sends ripples, circles, outward from this place.

There is no better comfort than boldness in times like these;
times, bespeaking, unsteadiness.

There is also the age factor to be wary of:

On solid ground,
your footfalls are leaving small traces
of your Soul.

[Do you not know this? The path widens your perspective, Child. Open your eyes, breathe.]

Do not attempt to pull me back. Daylight shall find me older today…

…The water is stirred, no matter what words escape my lips…

…Only circles of Time perceives them. I’ll carry myself, straight as the Dutch Elm,

a mirror of growth;

a foot,

in the stream.

[copyright:02/03/09]
W.H.B.

Validation:

There are moments, I know, when nothing can be expressed;

no words spoken, aloud. The failure of language becomes completely exposed,

like the maple tree in my front yard,

leafless and cold.

**

We set such a premium upon the spoken word,

little knowing the history its seen:

Old, black, men on porches

have taught.

Even, in the pause

and taking in of breath,

silence has its place.

**

When my silver-tongue ceases to speak

I’ll take my cue from these:

Bound and boundless

are words.

Only love

can find them.

See Me Fall :

Left to my own vices

I entered uncharted water.

The nightly news didn’t help matters.

Each morning,

I’d awaken, unshorn of warmth:

More of the same spent

feelings,

fallen

to

the floor.

*****************************

01/26/09~copyright~wbalzac.

I can play around, and laugh, all I want.

The feeble-minded will still be taken advantage of.
The middle class will still be impelled to look downward,
Angel.
The boxcar will only be a memory,
fading in the distance.
The peddler will forever be knocking on the backdoor.

Someday, my princess will come.
I can play around, and laugh, all I want.

All I need is more
important.

In between trains,
my sight transcends clarity.

The stiff-fingered boy
writes incessantly
about life.

The old man shakes his head
in wonder.

The thought moves on,
as a ticket is punched.

**
I can play around, and laugh,
all I want.

**
~x~William ~01/23/copyright2009

Where Ya Goin'?

• I'm in a really scattered mood. In every word,
• my dear, you'll find a blessing
• or, a curse.
• Don't step on my tie,
• break my session
• with passion,
• or,
• ride the train with strangers.
• If you happen to catch me talking to myself,
• pat me on the back,
• smile,
• and say,
• Where ya goin'?
• **
• (These days, it's the only relevant question.)

`x~William~01/22/2009

New Day, Martin....

~x~William H. Balzac (and, "PoetHeadsUp" @YouTube)

..."quiet desperation."

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We can question Ourselves
until the last breath,

never knowing
all the struggles
of Others.

***

I've carried the suitcase
of your Life:

The walk to the Station,
and the ride,
on the tracks,
Home.

***

[Silently,
in my Heart,
I recognized the Child.

What we experience
is not a burden,
it's a Life.]

***

Motion, commanded,
day-by-day;
forward, pushed,
with a Devil at Our heels.

***

It's there,
among the Quiet,-- stalling, before it starts--

You'll hear the murmur
of Our Days:

Onward, onward,
between Connections, never made...

...and, the Silence,

respectfully,

stirred.

In Transit.

A Poet,
is constantly
in Transit.

Like you,
in your best of times,
your worst of times,
the World listens
as it turns

forever forward.

We see the end
in Beginnings,

And in Transit,

our Words

live

on.

Official Publication Date: Jan. 10, 2009:

Thankful:

In every writers life there are those who touch, inspire, and encourage.

A book would not be complete without a dedication & acknowledgment to

the people who have brought so much to the written words I’ve managed to

give voice to.

**

And so, before the words are read, or spoken, I enscribe these words upon the page,

With,love

**

Dedication:

**

For, my brother, Joseph Edward Balzac,
and, my sister, Elizabeth Vaas.
With love, always,
For my father, Joseph Daniel Balzac.
And, last, but certainly, not least :
In memory, of my mother, Dorothy Balzac.

(Love is forever * Festina Lente)

**

Acknowledgments:

**

There are so many friends who I’d like to mention.
They all, played a part in encouragement and support. This small book, in
no small part, couldn’t have seen completion without their presence in my life:
Francesca Clement; Maureen; David & Joanna Samija; Radical Vixen;
Scarlett; Elosia James; Lil Bit; Lisa Q; Rose; Dandelion Tamer; Butterfly
Temptress; Ryan Ashford; Tara T.; Tey; Joss Loner; Rick Mobbs; Catalina R.;
Padme & Anakin; Misty; Clare McNally; Diane Fortuna; Michelle (brat); Valeria,
and, finally, Emma Bishop. You are all on my Hit Parade…and, I thank you.

**

**

In my family:

Anne Balzac: You’ve always been a fair critic and good reader of my
prose.
Kathleen Balzac: You have a wonderful eye. I love your photographs. You
are a writer, too, niece. I admire your words, as well.

**
And, finally:

A special mention must go to The National Marfan Foundation, in Port
Washington, New York.

Thank you, for keeping me informed and healthy.

**

___William H. Balzac —11/1/08

Tomorrow:

Loneliness

pushes past the settled–


coming to rest like a fallen leaf.


**


Eventually, we might see an expansion of riches:


**

Blown bits of our misfortune;


lifted by Angels


or, an unknown opportunity,


crying for tomorrow.


W.H.B.~01/03/09.~revision~11:59AM.