Posts Tagged ‘poetry’
Look Again
Reposting a poem from March 2014 that I titled, “Look.”
.
is it true
or do we assume
truth happens
only when
we need to hear it
the rest
is illusory
allegory
a vague story
told as a tale
tall
beneath urges
longings
daylight dreams
happening in real time
filled with love
laughter
and a feeling
that lingers just out of frame
begging to be viewed
but invisible
if you look
directly
into its eyes
.
.
.
Didn’t
.
I didn’t have a dream
about a big black bear last night
nobody ever wonders
why they didn’t dream
about a big black bear
the one that is trying to get into the house
when you discover the only barrier
was a sliding screen door
separating you
from him
the kind of dream that goes on
and on
but for some strange reason
the bear never figures out
it could walk right through
which keeps the dream
from being about an attack
yet does nothing to allay
the imminent threat that it could
nobody wakes up
with an awareness
they didn’t have a dream
like that
.
.
Come
.
alone
in a room
for a very long time
laughing
on occasion
for no particular reason
but also
yawning
without covering up
and thinking
that the time might come
when all else fails
and as a last resort
somebody finally does something
to interrupt
the uncontrolled spiraling
away from the best
that was yet
to come
.
.
.
Words
.
they are just words
but you can’t write them fast enough
because they flow
like lyrics in a song
that everybody already knows
even though they only remember
two lines of the chorus
because the verses wander
all over the map
about kittens and deforestation
cloth diapers, crime, and comedy
lightning, goal celebrations
vegan recipes and political tragedy
ghosts, authors, fancy makeup
chainsaws and Ultimate Frisbee
cyber insecurity, false witness
lost love and fortunes found
like a blog roll of unending topics
scrolling down a glowing screen
ideas on how to make millions with ease
or at least to transform
this world
into a better place
than it could ever possibly be
through song
sing along
with incandescent harmony
.
.
.
