The sound of warm water embraced reaching a crescendo of steam above the still surface.
Tag Archives: poetry
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.
The Fox at the End of Time
He leaps
trusting his feet
trusting the earth beneath them.
Speed and grace
feed confidence like flames
sends it racing over hills
sharing in its color.
Darting through grass and trees
the pads of its paws feel like heavy rain
a resonance of force
always remains
bouncing through the bones
a guitar well strung
finely tuned
strumming a rhythm of motion
a crescendo reached
only now – with the rest of time behind us.
It is beautiful music
silenced by pavement
interrupted by the sounds of cars;
Some screeching to a halt
others accelerating.
The Swings
The snow finds a valley
where a swing hangs above;
an empty cradle.
Where the children are gone
the wind will play
rocking it back and forth,
Somewhere
a lullaby goes unheard.
Confronted,
I want terribly to fill that space
but a wrongness holds me down.
I don’t belong here,
not anymore.
Dancing
Move
up
recede
Find
steps
concede
Bring
your
intent
Drop
the
pretense
Be
truth
expressed
Be
sound
possessed
Trauma
They say the sun sets
when the world runs away
four hundred sixty meters a second
how fast would you run just to say
“this isn’t my responsibility”
at least until the dawn beckons.
Resistance
Probability
speculative existence
forces always pushing
To a Life with You
When I breathe, I am sated
the air is sweet
When I see, I am humbled
the world is vibrant
When I eat, I am sustained
each meal is a banquet
When I listen, I am enthralled
always there is music
When I feel, I am excited
the texture is capricious
When I live this life with you
I am truly alive
all is full of love.
Post
I am here
a simple thought
obvious
I am here
nurtured by perspective
the thought grows
“I am here”
though
many were before
I am here
though
many will come after
I am here.
The road I watch is empty
barren and worn down but
I am here
waiting
for anyone
I am here
so that when they see me
they know
I am here
always.
Kaleidoscope
There are only so many shapes within
lines tumbling over curves in abstract
hoping to stop long enough to begin.
Spinning, turning, grinding, twisting, breaking,
back around becoming whole once again
absurdity trapped in a cylinder
listless in the darkness, isolated.