Relative Something

.

.

think about a reason not to think about
the things that for whatever silly reason
remain easier not to talk about
with the people who really matter most
as if the things that transpired
some time in the long ago past
deserve to hold sway
in a negative way
right now today
at the critical time of now
which matters more than any other
regardless how we allow
our silly trepidations
to carry so much weight
when things that did do harm
on a scale far beyond
our ability to comprehend
continue to come back around
and diminish each individual’s worth
for every time hurt befalls one other
all people of the world ultimately suffer

.

.

Deep

feel this

it’s your feelings

reach out with your mental acuity
and wrap your grip
around
with firm yet even pressure
to let it touch
your innermost percepting region

more than touch though
you’ve done that much before

it needs to be as you would with your eyes
when you see past the surface
into the depth of reflection
that ripples in the waves
of your brazen desiring appetite
and your viewing threatens
to consume the molecules
of the vision luminescing

before you acknowledge
the lump rising in your throat
for once beat it to the punch
and deftly wield the glorious
power intangible
to tread in the field
fat for the harvest

feel with the urge
of suppressing a laugh
and with all of your might
your mighty bright might
let go with your best
unabashed best belly laugh

©2003

when you write down what you think
in a screaming diatribe
about insanity running rampant
like a hurricane of class 5
and you notice people bristle
like the seeds of a prickly pine
it behooves thee to then ponder
if what happens is a sign
bringing you a simple message
is your logic there contained
to further an agenda
with a bellow so sustained
when a calming incantation
earns the pearl that can spell
greater glory and much brilliance
though it’s sometimes hard to tell
waiting for some little signal
of heads cooler that prevail
to prove to all concerned
the better choice will never fail
unless it’s overshadowed
by a craving with such gleam
driving all of your attention
toward some really fine ice cream

.

.

little teeny
bits of inspiration
float endlessly
by my eye
but sometimes
tend to defy
capture
landing just shy
my feeble try
to weave with words
a painting plied
with sounds as color
like a deep blue autumn sky
brown leaf that’s dry
intense red, but shy
for no particular reason
that would allow
logical explanation why
bother selling
something others
find simply hard to buy

.

.

have you ever noticed
the energy swinging
around the space
that exists in the air
surrounding our heads
that enables the sound
of one particular song
to throw us back in time
to a room and its furniture
the window and those curtains
that have absolutely nothing
to do with the song
or the reason for remembering
how it sounded and where
we were when we heard it
that very time in which it clicked
and settled into some niche
within the catacombs of our mind
where we are whether we want to be or not
and no one else will see or hear
the totality of what is in there
regardless the methods tried
to share in story or song
or full-length feature moving picture show
the impressionist paintings
of dazzling detail we craft
in microscopic telepathic transcendental
neuropathic milliseconds for our
enrichment but also our personal hell
regardless the logic defying
reality of possibilities that our initial
perceptions were perhaps skewed
by the void we sensed
where pure sweet innocent love
was supposed to be shining
on its pillar of ultimate truth
but somehow
was not