Welcome to the Poetry Page! Here you will find poems and stories from the heart. Loving, tragic, kind, angry, and all inspired by life. They were written by DaVinci over the years.

	The Soul of Hawaii	A poem about rebirth in the tropical surf
	Small Wonder	A poem about the birth of a baby
	A Birthday in Hawaii	A poem about lifelong friendship
	Waiting For Love	A poem about the hope of touching...
	Donald Healey's Dream	A poem about the Greatest Sportscar ever made!
	The Dawn of Love	A poem written for you!!
	Mother and Child	A poem about the special love between mother and child!
	My Soul Beloved	A poem about undying love!
	Fire Dance	Today's daydream !!
	Sad Eyed Lady	An early infatuation.
	Blur The Line	A poem about cyber-relationships !
	Life is a Fragile Craft	A birthday poem !
	The Man in Bronze	A poem about strength and perseverence !!
	Sunrise On A Man	Is it love he's found ?
	Pirate Heart	A pirate's heart is hard ... or is it?
	Young Man's Contempt	A poem about anti-establishment resentment
	Broken Dreams	A poem about the fragile nature of dreams
	King's Counsel	Let them eat cake?
	Lover's Cross	A martyr for love?
	Murder	Can a good man kill?
	Judge and Jury	A poem about self judgement and conscience
	Magdalena	A poem about being misunderstood
	Oh Time!	Will time bring wisdom?
	Dear Bancroft Family	Chilhood Memories
	Lover's Cross	A poem about rejecting a lover's "baggage"
	3 Haiku Poems	Some short poems of the classic 5-7-5 structure

Return to DaVinci's Home Page Return to the Inner Sanctum The Soul of Hawaii!! June '96 Plunging my graceless body into the clear and restless sea, I closed my dusty eyes and let that cool eternal flood wash over me. As each new surging current bound me to her breast, the ocean swept my soul and put my heart to rest. I let her take me as she would, a rolling, foaming, playful dance I understood. Applied no strength to change her course, and met, with full abandon, each eddy of her force. I spread my arms, releasing every thought to dreams, until that wild transparent world surrounded me. The taste and smell of surfswept air, the salty water dripping from my curling hair. I lost myself into her heart, accepted every awestruck part of all those ancient souls. A growing sense of veneration, wave upon wave, generation upon generation. A tear of joy, fallen from my vanity, joined this ocean's turbulent tranquility ----+---- Then I was the sea, flowing in those waves as one. My eyes, though closed, became a thousand rays of sun, sparkling, dancing toward the shore. My body was confined to flesh no more. I saw you there as sunset fell upon the beach. One brief touch, into my darkening sight, sent shivers through my deepest parts no mortal hand could reach. I came to you, bowing low beneath your gracious light, and brought you glossy, rainbow shells to keep. You took them up in gentle hands, to save for darker nights. But this was ours, this moonlit strand, you let your body fall, into the grace of those ageless souls, you heard Hawaii's call. Now I became the shepherd, massaging and embracing you. The timeless swells, the distant drums, the spirits, proud and true. Into my watery heaven, enticing and enfolding, it was your very heart, your soul that I was holding. Under the seductive and empowering hand, of all the Gods that ever walked this land, we made love under the moon and stars, and only the swaying palms, and the soul of Hawaii were watching......... Return to DaVinci's Home The Inner Sanctum The Poetry Index Small Wonder Thoughts from an engineer regarding the only miracle on earth.....life. "A baby's born", these simple words, So suddenly, with thought, expand, From mountains, earth and universe To spark of life, to grain of sand. The miracle that masters chance Leaves humble and without defense The greatest of unlikelihoods Too often called coincidence. The stars and stones from here through time Can all be cast, by mind of man, To rhyme and reason well defined But life remains beyond the plan. To you a tiny spirit came, A grain of sand, a common thing, The tree of God, a brushing branch, a wind that whispers, angels wings. So wonder then, what glint, what light Inhabits that small infants eye? What universe does breath become That thoughts of flesh and bone defy? As grains of sand form beaches, That cup the vast and endless sea, A single smile can thus command Our concept of eternity. And as the sea so gently does Caress the cradle it loves so much, The child returns his miracle In the harbor of your touch. July '92 Return to DaVinci's Home The Inner Sanctum The Poetry Index A Birthday in Hawaii August '95 Another year gone by so fast, but still not gone, just now a stitch, a patch in time, a multi-colored quilt of the present and the past, into the blend of fate's untwisting road. The year just done, who's facts are straight, remakes the quilt according to some vague, unguided code. Just one lone constant, you and I can knit. A single touch of hand, the same soft touch for years on end. The same sole fingers intertwined, forever on, my constant friend. I strive for honor every day, the higher ground, to make the choice, to do God's will, to till the soil that sprouts the human race, but still, what could be love brings angry harvest, sometimes, in the end. It's then I seek your healing touch my constant friend. You are the center of my life where all the grappling corners of the earth are stilled. My staggered senses settle with a new resolve. In tiny fractions, you and I, will find a corner of this massive world to mend. Such power and potential fills my heart, each time I hold your hand my constant friend. The tears of faith and love tumble from my heart in such a way. Each stumble, each temptation to take this life for granted that plagues us all from time to time. To deny the miracles that surround us every day. We work, past all the misaimed mirrors, beyond the false reflections of ourselves, to share the holiness within us till the end. And every step along the way, whether halting or with purpose, I’ll seek the balance of your hand my constant friend. I love you now, your heart out on your sleeve, your happiness, your pain the things you do and don't believe. I'll care for you each day, for every year I'm given. Each crazy, boring, growing, loving, lazy, dreaming, working, laughing, bustling day we're livin'. The hand of fate reached out for me one day. The heavens moved, a course was set, the angels wanted me to find you then, and since that time they’ve found a way that I could hold your tender heart in mine my constant friend. Our hearts, our hands, are bound together in eternity. No sooner could the sun not shine upon the earth, than your friendship could not be a part of me. Each wound is to us both, and in us both must heal. Each joy is by our hearts and hands embraced, and thus our friendship is revealed. My peace, my heart, my soul is yours and all of this I send to you each time I hold your hand my constant friend. Return to DaVinci's Home The Inner Sanctum The Poetry Index Waiting for Love Two hearts, standing on the brink, staggered from the strain. Four hands intertwined, wrapped in prayer, seeking strength, shelter from the rain. Our eyes blurred, lost amid the future and the past. A book in dreams, unable to read the words, hoping they'll come clear at last. A halting, desperate rush to change, settled stories, distant nights. Those hands weave hopes together, holding close, setting wrongs to right. Return to DaVinci's Home The Inner Sanctum The Poetry Index TODAYS DAYDREAM.......DANCING WITH YOU.... I feel the clouds of Haleakala, a swirling circlet trailing down the old lava flows. I feel the breezes from the North, the ancient highway every sailor knows they call to me they sing the old melodies, a drum, a fire, the rustling of the sacred dance attire the rhythm of the God's, ringing in my ears, I see you dancing, graceful as a deer. The warm night air on my cheeks as the shadows dance, I stare, and strain to hold this living dream, your movements ride the fire light, no step by chance, each sway with sensuous intent, the tramping, sliding, turning.... that patent glance, the sparkle in your eyes is heaven sent. This dance is filling me with love, with all the hopes and dreams of a thousand years. Each turning of your palms, each folding of your wrist is acknowledging eternity. The dance goes on...the fire glows, the drums beat slowly and the men all chant.... mesmerized by the light and shadow, the calm intensity upon your face. The spirits that fill you with this golden light, have come from time unknown, from ancient rites of spring, from sacrificial stones.... the power in your dance pierces every eye, watching you transfixed, blinded like the sun in the midnight sky. I cannot turn away, my muscles paralyzed by this display..... until your mystic form is suddenly in front of me, attracting, reaching compellingly, your gentle fingers luring through my awestruck sight, to join you in that dance, to share the spirit you and you alone have mastered, through the night. Our hands touch, become a corridor of thought, a river flowing in and out of time, and now, our movements rhyme. Each entry taken, each open followed by a close, every thought that has brought us together, eagerly exposed, each turn followed easily as though this dance had been practiced for centuries. (and so it has!) Each shadow following it's light, each breath waiting to exhale, is this dance guided from a higher place? Far off, beyond the silver moon, the seabirds wail ..... Return to DaVinci's Home The Inner Sanctum The Poetry Index Young Man's Contempt Those outside "God Damns" can get me down!! 'Cause I see that bald head Telling that clean shaven smirk That "The older they get, the sloppier thay become!" And laughing at my long locks. Meanwhile I imagine stale wine Dripping down their Bachanelian chins And sticky on their mits Rolling around in ancient easy chairs Greasy fingers caressing mandatory breasts Ripping meat apart with tooth and claw And throw the fucking bones to me!!! Return to DaVinci's Home The Inner Sanctum The Poetry Index Broken Dreams A slipping yarn of glass and ice is making my dreams remain as dreams. The wishing is finished and I'm hungry again. I've slept well the past few weeks, but dreams are fantasies and they are fragile. From time to time I lay my treasures out upon the sand for secret hopes to see, but somehow (only my mind makes it so) the polished glass gets crushed and buried. I spend days sometimes collecting them, broken pieces, almost each and everyone, washing them with sun and sea until they are warm and sparkle once again. It makes it hard to show my fragile things, these dreams. When the steel studded teeth come down so hard, I die a little inside, Until sunshine, stars and subtle seas let me smile again. Return to DaVinci's Home The Inner Sanctum The Poetry Index King's Counsel I watched them in the gutters, and I watched them break their backs. I watched them from my pulpit, but my heart did not react. Their eyes were full of cinders, and their faces full of toil. I watched the masses walk on coals. I watched that fanatic gray gargoyle, as fiercely red those frozen thoughts did cut my blood so blue. I cringed within my velvet womb, and still the masses grew. I leered at them from castle walls, threw stones upon them, too. I spoke, but only blindness, felt their wrath, and then withdrew. "What is this great gray beast which has but rags for flesh? Which knows no home, nor years, nor kin, from France to Spain to Bangladesh?" "Why comes this scum to irk my soul?" "They come to wound you.....to make you whole." Return to DaVinci's Home The Inner Sanctum The Poetry Index Murder With this sad story I'm telling you all, a tale of how a man can fall. A good man once, whom all could trust, lost to the curse of the Angel's Dust. Lost to his friends in my old home down, that shit layed my drinkin' buddy down. Aden Miller was his name, his life was wild but his heart was tame. I've laughed with that cat a hundred times, chewin' the fat and drinkin' that wine. He'd grin at his face in a whiskey glass or raise his brows at a lady's ass. He loved the women, yes it's true, and love 'em is what he loved to do. They say he travelled a wicked path and I guess he suffered the aftermath. One night in the orchard, that drug crazed man killed a girl with his own bare hands, his storm drenched mind had hit the sand. He wrote his last lines on pains of mirror glass. They didn't rhyme. His day was turning, a gray and black sunset. He ran till his feet bled, he was cold, and hungry in the night for days, flagged down a bus on the forest road, and said I'm the one they're lookin' for. For days and weeks, the hospital, the jail, he never saw the sun, his darkness never failed. I believe that an insane man could have lived with such a memory. But he could not. And so, my whiskey drinkin', mother fuckin', cocaine snortin' friend hanged himself, in his cell until he died. Return to DaVinci's Home The Inner Sanctum The Poetry Index JUDGE and JURY Is it always yes or no? Is it sitting on a great judicial balance? Brooding on the pros and cons of this manıs talents? This one man, both prosecution and defense on a mental witness stand. First bellowing his condemnations, then raising a hand, he follows, with impressive reason and masterful rationalizations But their are liars lurking in the courtroom of my mind, Who take the oath with their fingers crossed. There are jesters too, The comic relief when things get heavy. The jury is of my own design The sentence rarely fits the crime. Today, their is contempt for this court. How can such a den of fools and wise men decide upon a singular plan? There is not one outline that will fit this managerie, this one man, who is not to judge his own guilt or innocence in the larceny of life nor sentence himself to worlds of wealth or strife. Return to DaVinci's Home The Inner Sanctum The Poetry Index Lover's Cross You tell me you were born too soon. Never opened your heart to a happy tune. Your candle it is all but burned and there's so much yet you haven't learned about what and when and who or whom to steal from. You say that you would rather be among the crowd at Calvary. Every day your life's the same. You need to see some sweat you claim. Well, honey, don't hand your cards to me to deal from. "Cause I never was much of a martyr before I ain't gonna start nothin' new. Baby I can't hang upon a lover's cross for you. Return to DaVinci's Home The Inner Sanctum The Poetry Index Sad Eyed Lady In the woods with my trees Sitting on their ancient shoulders Drinking wine And soft fur is nice For sure And your deep brown bear eyes They look always ready to cry I'd like your pearly whites to tell me why Someday But goodbye for now sad eyed lady Star willows watching Your soft fur slumber And the Earth, the trees Love to see you sleep Your dreams are caressed By wood winds And cool Earth is close to you Drift hello to happy times Goodbye for now sad eyed lady You are deer grace Moving away to hidden places Deep woods, shadow, misty places Where I'm sure you have A favorite place to hide And cry for your Michael from mountains But goodbye for now sad eyed lady Your Spanish Moss thoughts Are gossamer And the green grey sadness Goes unnoticed By those who rest Beneath the melancholy hello smiles And goodbye for now sad eyed lady 1972 Return to DaVinci's Home The Inner Sanctum The Poetry Index Magdalena Burning my legacy into lava flows crashing pell mell to the sea, I hold a mirrored shield, Iım told, West, to blind the one whoıd be, the oh so righteous saviour that tried to set me free. In spite you cried, ³Remember, when your best designs, fall victim at the last to the rain, the sand and the steaming surf you could have let me pass.² My Magdalena, wonıt you please come to your senses, when I hold my prism high itıs cause Iıve let down my defenses. Magdalena, donıt be blinded by my light. Stay with me through the night. I need you, not my rainbow in the sky. Magdalena wonıt you try to see who I really am? Iım not a man whoıs lost his way nor a footloose boy living for today nor a shaken preacher kneeling down to pray for the resurrection. Magdalena, the sky is falling My mirrored shield, my white horse, all are rusting it is I and I alone that you are judging, Magdalena.... 1974 Return to DaVinci's Home The Inner Sanctum The Poetry Index Lover's Cross You tell me you were born too soon. Never opened your heart to a happy tune. Your candle it is all but burned and there's so much yet you haven't learned about what and when and who or whom to steal from. You say that you would rather be among the crowd at Calvary. Every day your life's the same. You need to see some sweat you claim. Well, honey, don't hand your cards to me to deal from. "Cause I never was much of a martyr before I ain't gonna start nothin' new. Baby I can't hang upon a lover's cross for you. Return to DaVinci's Home The Inner Sanctum The Poetry Index Cast iron rusted Old steam engine rusted No more good times roll. Mobs, wildly surging One old man, club in hand, dies Beside a flower. Majestic redwoods Sawing sounds split the beauty Topple, die, but why? One drop, warm and red Into the pool of others Breathlessly she bled

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