My poetry dates from three periods--early poetry from middle and high school, past poetry from college and poetry from the end of college. It’s been a while since I’ve tried to write anything poetic, but here it is anyway. All poems are copyright Tofer Carlson. Any may be reproduced or performed free with written request so I know where it’s happening.
Due to browser formatting, poems may differ from original intent. Please email me if you would like to see a poem in it's original arrangement.
it's always about a Girl
It’s always about a Girl
in fighting dragons—
terrible, wonderful creatures of
maple leaves and pine needles
with just my broom-handle sword and trash can shield.
or swinging between vines
above the waiting jagged mouths of
crocodile logs and stone tigers;
trying, just trying, to reach Her in time.
swinging up high, so high into the air
leaving the grounded swing-set-mission-control
for outer space, beyond our dreams
only to return to hear Her voice
she is always the same, yet always a new face
each Helen sends me farther from my life
and all I do becomes my quest to win Her
yet there is no Trojan horse to batter down these walls
my sails unfurled, I seek my own particular harbor:
I search ahead, I gaze at the past, but I glance to my side
at the emptiness, the perfect copilot lost to never
leaving me a ghost, aimlessly drifting across our seas.
pale forms rise from the graves beneath my feet
while the dead fog creeps through the midnight soil
I step into the earth for a long year’s nap
drawn on once more by Her siren’s call
It’s always about a Girl
and she smiles
And she smiles.
Quietly. At first anyway.
It starts silent like that,
but then a sudden beam, and
I can’t help but join.
She’s dangerous like that.
I’m sure we were talking
about something, or something else
but it’s her smile I recall.
It’s just there.
And there it is.
sometimes—
something else is too
darker and deeper
a passing cloud
a faraway look
a thoughtdreamwish
for something else
the missing thing
But then she smiles,
and the world is right again;
back on its course from gone astray.
And she smiles.
The Lost
we start life strong, and strong we live
we fight for peace of mind
we love until our love’s worn out
and quietly we die
but there are those who disappear
whose tears we never see
there are those who cringe in fear
and we ignore their plea
they are the lost among the norm
deprived a joyful song
they live without the love we have
and we stare blindly by
they move away, become unknown
before unblinking eyes
an empty chair, becomes a grave
and we, their lives deny
some lost become what others won’t
and serve the ones they feared
they live the lives we cast for them
and we walk idly by
among the lost, are those more gone
than those who live to serve
the missing lost, are gone for good
and we take off and fly
the lost become the darkened tales
that haunt the ears of youths
forgotten echoes of our friends
and we believe our lies
they live unseen, beneath our feet
the lost, before they leave
they dance alone, while we live on
and quietly we die
them
I noticed it first—because we locked our doors at night.
We never did that before.
But everything changed.
I guess I saw it happen all around me
in the papers
on the news
I knew it was them.
A couple of kids threw eggs at a house
broke into a garage
three houses
I know the ones you mean.
From over there?
When did they move in?
I don’t know.
But after they came,
It all started going to hell
It used to be that only the paranoids,
Who watched television shows like
America’s Deadliest Next Door Neighbors
(And the Families They Destroyed)
who locked their doors. Not us.
My best friend lost his key once.
At school. He was in fourth grade.
It had a baseball key chain in white and red enamel.
His mom had the house rekeyed.
He was grounded for a week
Three weeks
Keeping him inside
Made it safer
—after all,
in a town of friends and neighbors,
you never know who might pick up
that key
and use it to steal
your babies.
I guess, she probably noticed before I did.
The difference—them—that came into town.
They moved in, and everything got that much worse.
I read about it in the papers.
8-Points
You say it's just a g-a-m-e, when you play me again and again.=
And I believed you, yes I believed y-o-u when you spoke about our game.
(if you want to call it that)
Oh, you villain, you c-u-r!
A t-i-e-m player they said, but what's that? Why you're right!
There is no I in t-e-a-m.
I'll give you your j-e-a-l-o-u-s-y, but why
must you have taken your fifty-four triple word score points--
from my hopeless l-o-v-e and aching h-e-a-r-t with such a cold w-o-r-d
I know it's just a g-a-m-e; I know I shouldn't care,
but I can't help feeling that something
-the blank is a k-
no, I can't help but feel, that something is b-r-o
-double letter-
b-r-o-k-e-n between us.
eight points.
broKeN
she stares out at me, dark with chained emotions,
dusty with misuse-abuse until each blade
becomes the twirling arm of some great broken beast-
torn from life too soon;
torn from broken dreams;
torn from great hopes;
never to feel the electric excitement again.
It wasn’t always like this.
she moved with the wind once,
downing the hot, sultry air
as if the best of drugs
seizing the hot, damning air
and keeping it for herself—she could Fly
but no more
no more flying
no more dreams
no more thrill of the summer breeze slashing through the sunset
no more tears, or laughter-smiles-love,
no more frolicking with the dust mites in the spring
no more warmth; the dead clawing of winter has taken the life out of the air
no more
It wasn’t always like this.
out the open door
leaning forward, She touches Her hand to Her cheek—She is tired
life looms over Her head, yet She doesn’t see—
She mourns for what She doesn’t know, what She can’t feel, and what She will never see
a cautious twirl of Her hair moves the air within the room
drives me to act, yet the gale sends me cowering back into my chair.
where has Her smile gone?
the same smile that stirred my heart, stole my mind, tore my soul
is gone
sacrificed to the eight hour work day
to living as a student
to another man
why can’t it be me?
but I know. I know what I have done. What I have brought into being.
these events are of my own forging.
the sunlight crown moves again, rending me from Her image
sending me back to earth
back to Her memories
of dancing, laughing, joking, smiling, living, loving
a perfect moment with no one else in the room-
but perfection can’t survive in the reality of a high school dance
where one night turns into another
another becomes a dream
a dream that closes the doors to my heart
for that week— that single day— the only hour—
one minute—
a solitary second hidden somewhere
so I could shatter Her dreams
and I did
Her feet draw Her through the open door, but I can’t weep—
my tears have been closed off for some unfortunate time.
She turns!
surely for one last look at what broke both of our hearts,
the pitiful creature living in his own desolate dreams—
to come back to me, to love me!
we could be happy, She would once more smile
every moment could last forever in Her arms
Her lips curl up as She hesitantly takes a single solid step towards my waiting heart
then another, faster!
another and another and another—until She is almost within my embrace once more;
my heart Soars
as She grabs Her backpack
floating once more out the open door
into his arms
Older Poetry
Poetry from my sometimes angsty, sometimes prideful teenage years.
A Call to Arms
The sun has just risen, red as blood
No flower is left hidden in the shade.
Something is wrong, there are no screams;
No blood, no death, no guns to be seen.
The clear blue sky is full of birds,
There is no smog at all.
The serenity of this scene seems strange;
Where is the noise, the fear, the hatred?
Why do I see green, beauty all around?
Others have risen, made family in peace
We have nothing in common but wonder and hope.
I hear music; quiet, pastoral in sound
People are singing, dancing with joy.
We are joined by Animals, both great and small
No longer threatened by the presence of humans-
And we, mankind, are no longer shaken by them.
A crash of thunder alerts me to the sound of rain.
The water from the tarnished tap tastes of copper.
Television brings only news of death.
My peaceful vision? The time was never; our dream is now.
Sonnet I
Blessed lovers, may you hear but a word
Of all things gone past, never to rescind.
All that must be said might never be heard
But still lies within and tears at my mind.
I cry to those of love unrequited
To those wishing for little more than life
Who knows misery but those slighted,
In such a manner as torn by cruel ice?
Passion ignites those who have yet to love.
Sorrow encumbers those in love of late-
Infatuated with the purest dove,
Whose simple quip is of the darkest hate.
To all those young lovers who've yet to learn,
Close your heart now or forever more yearn!
Sonnet II
Vainly, the moon tries hiding her pale tears-
Drawing her cloak to hide a mournful gaze.
Her love lost to light, mislaid by her fears,
She grows green to think where he might have strayed.
Searching through darkness, amid waning hope,
She lets tears of light fall to pierce the night
That her love might crawl up the darkened slope
Return to her arms, held eternally right.
But waxing jealousy weakens with time
And as time repeats; as waves upon sand;
The moon removes her ragged, tangled skein
And sends her pale love to search through the land.
But with your pale, silent, gentle caress,
I dream myself, held safe against your breast.
Angel
How can I say this?
Keeping hope alive
Making a fool of my heart?
It's far too late to stop
I will go on
How can I thank you?
for your Wonder
for your Speech
for your Smiles
Each ignites a thousand sparks within
How can I ever mean what I say
or is it say what I mean?
I don't even know most of the time
Grace, beauty, kindness- each filling wholefully
willingly occupying a space in but a tiny part of
Greatness
An unyielding hold on
My Heart, My Mind, My Soul
You alone are unique among travelers
all spawned of earth, only to return
An Angel rides above the currents
Smiling
A captivating song, a thrilling voice
I can't leave it behind,
even for a single heartbeat
Sometimes so quiet, outside the hatred,
sometimes so like me, loving all that is
Laughter
Joyful laughter, happy laughter, oh so happy
but nervous?
In the Arms of an Angel everything fades
again
Glorious tones pour forth crying towards freedom
Leaving the mouth of an angel if not the arms
There is something, I don't know
Mystery, kindness, Wonder?
Will I ever know? Do I ever need to?
Perhaps not, but these times are here and now
And I am lost in awe, and aww, lost in love.
I don't know what else to say.
It's already so muddled and confused
Making me
understand perfectly how some can only say
I love you
In a Song
ruIn
The bile rises once more
as they tenderly hold each other.
clutch
claw
vainly at one another.
Can’t they See?
There isn’t any point,
At All.
Not now.
Not Ever.
Her hand reaches slowly behind his shoulder—
I cringe.
Her cold hand falls lightly to his side—
I gag.
His gray clawing fingers meet hers—
I have to leave.
My tray remains as I leave the room;
Glass tumbling as I slam into the table
Heads turn,
Eyes gouge
At whatever I might be hiding
running
suffering
from—but it’s not for them to know,
it’s not for them to know,
Eyes gouge
but they can’t see my soul
The floor listens to my footsteps, accelerating
Even as the glass,
with each sharp echo
resonates a lighthearted dirge
intent on mocking me
They can all see,
can’t they?
CONTROL myself
They can’t know
They Can’t
They CAN’T
But they still scream at me
curse at me
laugh at me
They Know.
Our eyes meet—
and she knows too.
She doesn’t laugh at his joke
Her smile? I’m nothing. Invisible.
an Untouchable.
The handle reaches for me
strives to connect
At least something out there wants me
If only to end the craving for the
casual
caress
of long practiced maneuvering
and suddenly
the room is free of my presence
The door slams silence behind me.
I shudder.
Slams silence into crisp attention.
I crawl
Silence that brings!
I howl.
Grace
An angel leaps into the water
From the safety of the pier.
Each simple stroke releases rings,
Halos forged from golden light.
I think. Her image fades,
Hidden by silver shadows.
And suddenly, that angel swimming
Becomes human, all the same;
The sun hides in its misty gowns
And our magic leaves the stage.