I still smell that night in the room of our father in a den made of opium, a bed of codeine

Naked and glowing from the light of the stars your silhouettes danced like puppets and demons

Yet you sat there starring like you could change the ending replaying that movie over and over

As I just sat there watching, my head in a rainbow, asleep in a cloud, knowing my mission was only to save you

Look! Look! Little brother I drew you a picture and if you look really closely, this light through my fingers will make you a donkey

What's wrong little brother can I not entertain you with great feats of magic to hang on the wall.

I saw you that morning and I didn't want to wake you as you lay on the floor looking so peaceful

But when you arise we'll talk little brother and we'll sing and we'll dance because there's always tomorrow.

 

 

A shallow glow radiates warmth to my face.

I love these moments and make every effort to hold tight.

Clouds that shadow cast a coolness of the coming seasons

But the sun still holds on, it's still too early, it's still early.

It's still to early so I grab the warmth like a soft blanket

To set at the corners of my thoughts, nicely folded

And I will pull this day out in the times to come
to brace against December winds.

 

 

 



You can see at a glance in the face of the buildings, 
painted and vacant lies the soul of my city

A beat of a heart that sounded of youth,
of faces and dreams that have done all but shattered,

scattered and worn like the weight on my shoulders, and the toll that is taken on the words of my father. Boarded decayed we lay out the offerings of dog eared books, teachings and religions, gathered through time, life weighed in possesions that take me further and further away from my passions. Tired I sit and stare at the papers, plans that I made at a younger time did not take account eyes that are greying or tomorrows departing with no arrivals, a soul that still fights beneath all the burdens, a mounding pile of valuable garbage, a heart that longs for someone who can make things more clearer. A walk in the clouds down near the river and to know that my song will not be forgotten, realizing inside it has never been heard.

A candle's lit upon the sill

Beautiful against the night

Though little warmth does touch its glow

There is a hope within its light

But outside in the darken streets

Creatures of the night time venture

Throw themselve upon the window

Trade themselves for something shiney.

A sun sets its shadows earlier now
Ever rolling are the glints of silver
Behind the silohuettes
Beneath the squinting brow
I cup my hand against the glare

The air still warm, a feel, familiar
My life defines its many a years
For the end of summer now draws near.

The Evening's Son .......

"The evening's son ... August 19, 2012" by terrernce l cope

Dark the clouds which hide the shadows
Loudly sounds a silenced cry
A change does come ... I asked so kindly
What is this? ...  with no reply,
Once I asked aloud the stars.
So bright their light upon the night
Now a crow amoungst the stones
Of countless names it would recite
Oh silly one, have you not noticed?
They took away your precious sun.
Why? I pondered for consoling
From gathered clouds of black, forboading
As along this path I just kept going
It would not matter anyway.
For in my time I made my fun,
within a moment resides my day.
Upon my faith I've felt the son.

and upon my face a cleansing rain.

Prepare me for eternal passing

Remove lifes sweet and mortal pain.

I do not dread the clouds arrival

Or the peace that sits in coming slumbers.

Or those petty things and tortured trials

Or the loves I lost in hearts survival

Or strife, addictions that rot and wither

This fading gifted gentle soul

That grew up in the golden times
Warm within my thoughts do ponder

The fruit that grew upon the vine.

"This mornings walk" Jan 31st, 2012 photo by T L Cope

I do not fear the things that come; I do not fear all but one
End of day, which dying light do'est slip into eternal night
I watch her beauty dim and fade; to crumble into empire’s dust
As tides rise to wash away the many monuments of us
The windswept dance of summer grasses
Growing ‘round my scattered ashes
Like children that have come to play
Amongst the stone and silent graves
Dark is this roads enveloped storm
That does not really wish me harm
Fleet in passing, 
gold is the ring,
life's shinning spark
Was not but the weight of love in its arms.....



photo by terrence l cope



New leaves grace the branches

a nip seems to lessen outside the shaded path

I feel the sun, it's been a while

it's winter but this shall pass



photo 01/29/2012 by terrence l cope

I walked today
alone 

along the path

that led me

to this end of day

and all the things along the path 

were

more than simple words could say.

While images of

a seconds tick

were trapped within

the Nikon's lens
At that very moment's end

is where all eternity begins .....

 "the Chameleon" a page from my sketchbook 11x14 drawing pastels

You do not see that which blend into all that surrounds
Sounds, color, the children at play …. the chameleon
Flitting through life, sounds of your feet on porceline
A steady clack of heeled shoes
Inaudible chat; hand to ear, 
silken hair hides the phone
your eyes are blank, lifeless,
like a doll
There's purpose in your walk,
your stride
As light brown and patterns flow to your movement
All paths lead to the devil

yet you pass unaware without a care
You do not see me as I decide if you want me
If I were even in your league,
If you could see my worth
The sun beats on the cold,
makes little headway
Still I stay to the shadows
And the sound of your journey grows faint,
Then is gone......
As so I,
 my existence
in your passing.



"I try to stand in the light" .... from the sketchbook black and white drawing pastels(Nov 15, 2011 )

A thin vale of black covers the demon and devils as their warm breath blows the sun's red sands

Slight stir of headlights dance upon the desert floor, a favorite song is playing on the radio

In the shadow are the many who seek the cold warmth of their light, to grow, to awake

To cast their own shadow upon the timeless lands.

Only a few reach out to touch the rays and in their turn choke the light

And the violet landscape soon reveals the branches, withered, decayed and twisted

"Station 19, India 1944" Pencil, Charcoal, Acrylics on Illustration Board, 2011 Terrence L Cope

Grey mist of trees that line the banks

A wind that whips the oceans ‘round

Inside the currents, Indigos and half-light,

The bodies, silhouetted marionettes

Glide just below the ocean’s edge

Gentle hands that clutch the tender threads

hollowed eyes peer eternal, buried in their strife

And your children dine on table scraps, hand me downs

The gift of those who took it all

When you were trying to prove yourself

When it was you who sacrificed …. at the building of the wall.

"Happy Jacks Go Buggy" 24x36 Pencil on Gessoed Multimedia Board by TL Cope

I sit in a room

no window in sight

and Stare at this puzzle

that's nailed to the wall

All the pieces are black

In the dark there's no light

I.LL SIT ALL ALONE

and keep it together

YET the Pieces they fall

and WITH aLL my might

I can't keep it whole

I can't make it right

P-51B Red Wrecker III, Charcoal and Chalk 11x17 by Terrence L Cope

When I became a man

I put aside those things   of children

As I began to gray

I sought to be that child again.