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Randy Biffany Poem
Seeking Kindling
The tangling forest was bitterly cold
And we were endlessly lost.
But, I followed his big foot prints
without speaking out of fear.
“Just pick up twigs kid. OK Dad”-
While he collected timber.
I knew he was good at providing, building
while not speaking.
A hammer made a much more profound sound
in my ears than anything he said to me.
So I followed.
But, the snow and ice were to thick and
the twigs and timber were frozen.
I fell behind and lost his footprints
until I fell asleep and the snow and
bitter wind blew over me.
Unforunateely, he never looked behind.
R. Biffany '09
Copyright © Randy Biffany | Year Posted 2009
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Randy Biffany Poem
Twenty five years of grave digging finally unearthed a new birth;
Emergence into a sacred world where the secret wisdom of simplicity
Prevailed.
The connection was made, the gift giving;
Spiritual fire burned above his head.
He spoke in tongues of angels, wrote a revelation in
Divine script to be read by the mourners and widows.
Eulogies long overdue, delivered
To the souls that were left behind.
Now dangling in purgatory with outreached grasping hands
Toward heaven and feet smoldering in hell.
Waiting for the “Great Provision” to pull them into
The sanctuary of submission.
Copyright © Randy Biffany | Year Posted 2013
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Randy Biffany Poem
Novelists and Nobodies
Ah, now this my domain, the library
Where cultures collide.
Men of leisure reeking from their latest dumpster dive
mingling with men in leisure suits studiously swimming in their work.
And me, in my disguise?
I'm hidden between both,
Like bookends.
Where else can a man of my means
In my situation loiter all day
and still look poignant -
Though I've really no place to go.
Like the man from the street
and the man incomplete,
I am simply another book on a shelf
waiting to be read.
R. Biffany '09
Copyright © Randy Biffany | Year Posted 2009
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Randy Biffany Poem
The Light Switch
Our minds are like a light switch
We turn on with a flick.
But then as fast we pull the plug
And turn off just as quick.
Our feelings give us power
We feel the way we choose.
So be careful not to think too much
Or you might blow your fuse.
R. Biffany '09
Copyright © Randy Biffany | Year Posted 2009
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Randy Biffany Poem
There's a dinging in the kitchen,
There's a ringing in my head,
Someone's singing in my closet,
But, I fear the tenor's dead.
There's a clatter in my cupboard,
There's a matter unresolved,
There's a tiny pitter patter
Which is screaming up my hall.
There's a titillating teeter—totter
Slamming up and down.
And the bumpiness alone,
Just slid my grin into a frown.
Someone call the proper people,
Shut the silence off and then
Call the plumber, what a bummer,
I am dripping wet again.
All this screaming and complexity.
This damned insipid stain,
Is deplorable, abhor able
And driving me insane.
And the sum of all this madness
Has my tongue and guts in knots.
So you do all the talking...
Because I forgot the plot.
Copyright © Randy Biffany | Year Posted 2009
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Randy Biffany Poem
Amanda smiles when she walks down the street.
Amanda parades for the company she meets.
Amanda auditions when you ask her name.
Amanda Veranda is her own hall of fame.
But under the garments and jewels she wears.
She can't stop fearing the gossip she hears.
At night when she's naked and stripped of her gown
Amanda's wide grin sadly slips to a frown.
Her make up starts running her image is bare.
Her vanity's vanished because nobody's there.
She looks in the mirror and sees she must change.
Her fantasy vanity must be rearranged.
So she made herself useful and gave of herself.
And found she could finally climb down from her shelf.
She took down her trinkets and vases and gifts.
Went out and mended those trivial rifts.
She humbled herself and she found it felt good.
Did all the things that she knew that she should.
Now she’s still quite the talk of her little old town.
But it no longer gossips and puts this girl down.
They speak of her highly since she's bowed very low.
Not low in a bad way she just gave up her show.
So if you're an Amanda whose ego's to big
You'll too find it better to swing a new gig.
Copyright © Randy Biffany | Year Posted 2013
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Randy Biffany Poem
A warm breeze blew into heaven today;
Emanating from the gentle, peaceful smile of
My brother.
Kindness, compassion and love were his way;
A natural flow of self-sacrifice and concern,
Not for himself but another.
Windstorm’s blur and earthquake’s erupt
Floods wash away, leaving empty lives.
He could not understand how a God could let this be;
So, he inflicted on himself what he thought was sure to come
Proactive and confused just a lost man who
Who was not himself for a brief,
Tragic moment.
Copyright © Randy Biffany | Year Posted 2013
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Randy Biffany Poem
Watermelon seed spitting, popsicle licking and locust humming songs;
Summer scenes etched in dark crevices.
Leave pile diving, pumpkin’s smiling, crackling fires with s’mores;
Falling breathlessly, covering mistakes and guilt.
Tongues catching snowflakes, sledding down slopes, hot chocolate parties;
Frozen heart kiss to melt fears and fallacies.
Tulips, May Day baskets, Barefoot puddle dances;
Spring cleaning cobwebs, dusting off today.
Copyright © Randy Biffany | Year Posted 2013
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Randy Biffany Poem
(Unhinged)
Windows shutter
Doors swing free
All of it
Coming unhinged because of me.
Whirlwinds blow;
Quakes shake then withdraw,
Only to return with a more dangerous claw;
That cuts and bleeds
And feeds and needs.
This devilish menace that's pestering me
In dream state or state street must flee, flee, flee, flee!
It must let me be and set me free;
Go back to its shackle house,
So I can see me.
Copyright © Randy Biffany | Year Posted 2016
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Randy Biffany Poem
Prompts are magical, whimsical bursts
That explode from your memory when you don’t exert
Any wasted emotions or thought planes absurd
So shut up and listen to that inner most Word.
Copyright © Randy Biffany | Year Posted 2013
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