I am not a poet. Yet, I feel compelled to set out verse to the Universe. I acknowledge and celebrate. If you read it, it’s all on you.
voids riddle the lace of life, residue of memories cling at the edges
basic essence lingers, rough early edges show
love/hate blurred in ever darkening dusk
heavy burden of care, a solitary endeavor met with filial rancor
duty binds the languishing seed to root in fallow soil
I walk, fettered by responsibilities and dreams, among the populace.
At first glance, I am lonely, sad.
I dream expansively, unwilling to accept obstacles.
I work tirelessly, understanding the weight of my responsibilities.
Years have sculpted me and filled my well with insight.
With great whimsy, time has given and taken.
Dreams evolved and devolved as cycles complete.
I meet each challenge with vigor, letting fear fuel my momentum.
I will be.
Fear me, dreams and goals cloak me in glorious raiment.
Fear me, discouragement is long since shredded in the wind.
Fear me, angels walk with me, devils cavort around me.
Fear me, I live.
Fear me, I die.
can I tell you?
no one else will heed
emotion run in torrents
will you listen?
jealousies, loves, and lies
dreams told, fears exposed
the burden weighty
tell me no more
powerful, placating, political, personal.
said in earnest.
said with insouciance.
pride stymies action.
conscience demands resolution.
realization equals forward momentum.
memories and actions purged.
the soul healed.
The seductive call taints the natural order.
Spirits, intoxicants – alter perception,
mundanity a distant memory.
Lesions of decay disguised by sly, glittering beauty.
Writhing, twining, seething,
the id liberated.
An elusive apex sought,
its jolt fleeting.
Shadow disguises the excess, dawn threatens the partakers.
Reality terminates the bacchanal.
Your candle burned bright,
right until the end.
Family ties bound us, confounded us,
filled our cups overflowing.
Time robbed us of a future,
your progeny bereft of your presence.
Memory, anger, grief, painted the landscape.
Only the remnants of moments remain,
jagged edges softened with the passing of time.
Damn you for passing early.
Love you for what you gave.
I miss you,
the ‘Good Scout’ until the end (CEG 1939-2001).
Experience drives me up,
touching the sky.
Hope launches me,
legs bent, next step.
Dreams add bouyancy,
stars within reach.
Time to start over.
etched with cracks, every breath breaches the core.
fissures shift, glimpses of universes lost.
pain incises slowly.
survival demanded, reality harsh.
jagged pieces litter the ground.
decay wafts toward the sky.
Enflame us, Calm us,
entice & offend.
Scar us, Heal us.
Thronged spaces, too jolly to bear.
Frenzied draw to sparkling novelty.
Good will and cheer, wadded fleetingly in moments.
Harmony eludes, while pressures rises.
Gifts lack, while hearts groan.
Rumination ruined in bustling furor.
The comfort of kin soothes all.
The crowning gift – heartsease.
dented, chipped, cracked
no dent unremarkable
every chip a badge
repaired or not, each crack evolutive
a life well utilized
thump, thumpity, thumpity, thump
flash – immobile – blurry
preying on doubts
weighing down hopes
no spiritual or physical panacea
new motto – maintain, rise and overcome
An end point, a breath.
A stitch that binds ideas.
Delineating a voice, a concept, the irony of it all.
Misplaced, the meaning misconstrued.
Time, space and the past,
marked by symbols that define.
Whipped through the air with gusty abandon.
Browns, reds and oranges blanket the verdancy.
Expectations, miscommunications, projection & rejection,
saturate the air with poisonous molecules.
The Victim, a fixed point, refusing to take accountability.
Constantly attacked by perceived & imaginary threats.
Professional martyrs grease the wheels of discord,
keeping fear and hatred alive.
Ever ungrateful, always in the right,
the unfortunate never understands why they are bereft.
Running with scissors, scampering from the future,
nightmares plot the course, dreams soothe the rough edges.
Very little has solidity, yet the way is fraught with implacability.
Right side up and upside down, sidewise and around.
Nothing really matters, everything impacts.
Cords of binding, contract.
energy rejuvenates & reveals the road ahead,
the way is fraught with perils and rewards.
yet the quest draws me forward.
dread chases me, hope lures me.
possibilities are exponential – triumph or failure,
both tantalize on the journey ahead.
Empty are the shelves, devoid of staples.
Draped only in the gossamer silk of the arachnid.
Futilely I search for sustenance.
Dust motes float lazily in the air.
The illusion of grace, a mummified breath,
unclaimed in the twilight.
trapped in the sticky web of expectation,
i dream of friendly kinship.
rancor fills the void, leaving no resolution.
i weep for the death of possibility,
steadfastly looking to the future
Curled toes cling to the edge,
vertigo swirls the world into a kaleidoscopic fugue.
Wavering, I cling to the old.
Endless opportunities entice yet terrify.
Avarice claws my soul, desire tempts me.
Buffeted on this precipice, I struggle.
The cost of risk?
The first step tells all.
hazy thoughts float on the river of my mind,
rising and sinking in a rhythm without time.
colors bleed into darkness, a descent into the void.
the current sweeps away the detritus of illusions.
dawn brings a cognizance lacking in the deep.
The chair isn’t quite right -
too big, too tall, too something.
fidgeting — antsy — squirming — jumpy
Maybe I’m too small for the space,
too short for the ride, or not defined yet.
An indefensible position – No
It’s not me, I’m just right – the chair must go!
a continuity rules the game
end to beginning – constructs are engaged
in a sea of alternatives
only the obverse is evident
determinations are quondam
i stand guardant – free
surrounded by the detritus of others judgments
my treasures radiating in the field of destruction
i scramble to salvage the rubble before me
is merit based in the eyes of those who judge
or in the inner eye of censure
I am the conductor of a symphony of secrets.
First, second and third chairs chosen with care for their complexity and depth.
Each section a different timbre and tempo.
I stand, the arcanum head, of seeming chaos.
Completely in my element of orphic grace.