Tag Archives: living
Cardboard Boxes (Video)
A Toast
To those restless souls,
to open eyes questing,
to empty arms,
and to full hands.
To open eyes questing:
may you find the horizon endless,
and always enough light to see.
To empty arms:
may you find the strength to carry
all the gifts that life can give.
And to full hands:
may you find empty arms
in which to give of your fruit.
Cardboard Boxes
It’s not trash, but it should be.
I want it to be,
but someone out there;
a memory,
would hold it against me,
that tangible though brief history
discarded.
as if it didn’t live up to
some archaic pedigree
that would otherwise sustain it
unto antiquity.
Is it not enough that we lived our lives?
Survived?
Survive still,
to store those moments in boxes
or lay them amongst the refuse
and save instead that space?
How do we value emptiness
against all the time that we’ve forgotten?
Sympathy for the Living
Let’s not shed tears for the dead.
No amount of water will see them grow
they rest now comfortably in our memories;
living only in the brightest moments
and spoken of only fondly.
They have no due dates
no responsibilities
they need only absorb eternity
and to be absorbed;
embrace their greatest good.
Let’s not shed tears for the dead.
They will be more than we could
see more places than we will see
within and beyond this humble earth
a line without end
confined only by the scope of time
and the nothing that came before it
to briefly play with life and die.
Let’s not shed tears for the dead.
The horrors are only for the living.
That tragic awareness
a font of possibilities
crashing against clumsy hands
like an ocean seen from a prison window;
the air oppressively humid,
a square of light,
projected against a locked door
framing countless specks of mist
that float away – freely.
Let’s not shed tears for the dead;
only the living can experience loss.
Supine
The walls here are illusory
a stonework reminder of
(our options)
though stone can be broken
walls overcome
Often the only wall is
(you)
Your will
your means
your knowledge.
Here
it is time that binds us
the immutable agony
running headlong towards us
to keep us from getting out.
Every year conquered
leaves the others more pronounced
those walls
(these walls)
are real.
Modern Living
How can we bend like this?
Something is amiss, surely.
T’was signed prematurely,
This “Pure”-ly presented contract;
All words in abstract phrasing,
Written with poor pacing
But customer facing, for sure.
How else could we be lured?
And now we must endure this world,
We recklessly unfurled.
The same that once was hurled on them,
So we shouldn’t condemn,
Let’s relieve this mayhem somehow…
I think I’ve got it now!
Why should we pull the plow once more?
There are people less soar,
Comfortable with chores and dumb,
I bet they’ll work for crumbs,
Maybe even just some honey!
Kids these days are funny,
“Do you want some money, as such?”
Fair wage?! Entitled much?!
Grow Gray With Me 