David L.
Walton passed away in late August 2012. He is with his Savior now and I’m sure
so happy. Here are some of his shorter perplexing and not so perplexing poems.
There are some that are many, many pages, but I won’t be transcribing those
here. Happy would be 60th birthday, David!
Imagery
Thing
flashing through
Making
something where nothing is…
Imagery.
Bits
and pieces
All
came together
About
the formation
That
is the jig-saw puzzle
Around
this creation of thought.
Throughout
the wake
Formed
in disturbances
To
the image-pools
Droplets
of ideas
Breaking
free…
Recoalescing
into the pools new images
A
new creation-----
Imagery.
The
Walton Paraphrase of Desiderata
Go
quietly, speak clearly, and listen faithfully.
Don’t compare for you can’t change what you are.
Pay care to yourself, be cautious, look for virtue.
Be yourself, be real, don’t be cynical about love.
Learn from the years, grow in spirit, let imaginings not affect you.
Be flexible, admit your limitations, things are working out as
planned, be at peace with the planner.
Be at peace with yourself, the world is still a beautiful place,
Work to realize your potential and the joy of its realization.
Don’t compare for you can’t change what you are.
Pay care to yourself, be cautious, look for virtue.
Be yourself, be real, don’t be cynical about love.
Learn from the years, grow in spirit, let imaginings not affect you.
Be flexible, admit your limitations, things are working out as
planned, be at peace with the planner.
Be at peace with yourself, the world is still a beautiful place,
Work to realize your potential and the joy of its realization.
 |
| Photo of David taken by Elanna Bat Levi-Ya'acov in her kitchen. |
Can’t
Play But I Can Sing
Fun
it is to me
Not
to play
But
to sing
Seems
so weird to me
In
these days
Where
everyone plays and sings
I
just like to sing
Don’t
know how what to play
But
I’ll sing the blues
Paradise:
The Ideal
Paradise
the place of eternal bliss
The
place where souls can exist
In
serene peacefulness.
Yet
not have to reminisce
Of
olden days of long ago
But
live in joy
Of
tomorrow, tomorrow, and tomorrow.
But
reasons for their
Being
there were not
Safe
life and limb
Or
just because
They’re
them.
Tragedy,
troubles, sorrow,
And
suffering
Are
reasons why
They
be in Paradise.
Enduring
pleasure
For
all eternity,
They
found the key
The
answer to life
Twas
living, abiding in Christ.
Taking,
accepting, and living
Through
Him forever
This
is Life.
But
on to the gayes.
Things
of Paradise above
Of
golden auras
And
the like
That’s
never seen
Of
pace serene.
There
is an ideal
Of
what Paradise
Should
be like.
But
it is much
Like
a garden land
Of
lamb and lion
Hand
in hand.
Perhaps
like earth
I
do not know
Except
no war
Or
want of more.
No
hell on earth
Or
impure soul.
A
Utopia
Never
filled
Light
and peace
Abundance
too
All
for me
And
you and you.
Tis’
true
One
can’t
Earn
his way
To
Paradise someday.
I
cannot hope
To
comprehend
Or
understand
This
celestial thing, Paradise.
That
man may
Dream
and some
May
dwell
Like
someday
Some
souls will.And hope
And
pray
And
someday win
The
weak bottle
Of
weak men.
Of
cleansing
Of
that soul
Of
mine.
Coming
to
That
lofty plane
Come
to Paradise
Once
again.
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