Posts Tagged ‘poetry’
Powerful
.
.
there is something to it
the energy
brain chemistry
powerful juju
but who’s in control?
who’s driving that bus?
because it’s not in control
and moving way too fast
so much momentum
ignores the breath
it’s flooding the circuits
alarm bells and whistles
betray their intent
when employed so flat out
too many days in a row
searching for relief
from the race
by racing
until
by some different magic
the solution just shows up
with little in the way of fanfare
the race can be over
if you can choose
to simply
stop
.
.
.
Happy
.
.
would you do me a favor
and loan me that smile
for as long as I can remember it
deep into the darkness
of hours and days
away from the laughter
that lights up your eyes
when we are happy
and in love
stupendously in love
but more importantly just
incredibly
happy
.
.
.
.
Imagination
.
darkness abounds
beneath the trees
in the deep woods
casting shadows
darker still
creating shapes
along the trails
hollow spots
that echo footsteps
crunching leaves
snapping sticks
long after creatures that made them
have run away
leaving just an earworm
Eric Clapton
singing in circles
filling the space between ears
because imagination
is boundless
easily melding
music and fears
.
.
.
Finally
First, I want to point out that there are two special things I haven’t forgotten today. Happy Birthday, Julian! And, Happy Anniversary to Cyndie (and me).
One way I know that we have been married a long time: She sent me an email yesterday, announcing she had signed us up for a community education class on Navigating Social Security.
How romantic.
I chose one of her photographs for a new “Words on Images” composition.
.
.
.
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Fragments
.
wisps of thoughts
tumble past in random fashion
a glimpse of an emotion
flashing across her face
remembering a fragment
from my distant past
passing judgment
despite my better intentions
scratching the cat
when she shows up for attention
until she stalks off
in another direction
only to return
in a repetitive cycle
that goes on
for years
choosing to stand naked
and alone with myself
listening for a solitary voice
that speaks an honest truth
from deep in the soul
in a language so unique
my mind struggles
to pay attention
.
.
.
