Relative Something

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just like any other day
playing online
@ http Howard’s living room
it could be
discussing to caption a photo
or not
in a way
it is everything!
posted every time before
both perspectives valid
in the right
certainly not wrong
to be heard
impelled to respond
implored to explain
insert statements reiterated
and materializing to view
a familiar design
echoing contentious exchanges galore
religion
abortion
politics
gay people marrying
fracturing off at angles
threading into unrelated items
or uncontrollably summoning
that reference to Hitler
framed in righteous indignation
of wishing the best for all
ultimately
as we wield our human frailty
with gestures of respect
each in different ways
leave out letters of a word
not capitalizing a name
yet self-centered we all remain
ignored we often claim
passive
aggressive
veiled intimidation
plausible deniability
and still a value is sustained
inspiring our return
to play online again
just like we did the time before
as each new day recalls
that eternal springing hope
we felt the very first time
we happily discovered
Howard’s brilliant turn of phrase
that up to us, is what it is!
and dipped our bashful toes
in the pool of his virtual world
where we now come play online
like so many other days before

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Brainstorms

.

.

.

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seemingly insignificant questions linger
delicately
amid all else happening
as day upon day slams past
despite our failing effort to fully grasp
how simple everything really is
like how relatively fast the ice is melting
and how often fresh oil is needed in the car
or why I can’t part with an impression
I developed when I was a kid
of a dream girl who actually lives in my dreams
by showing up every now and again
even though I’m beyond that by far
as if something that I never did
might somehow render the glorious scenes
I have in fact quite consciously lived
not as real as I know that they are

.

.

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Sleep can be
slippery
to grasp
in amounts
desired
for the healing
a body does
while at rest
because
activity
of the day
consumes
hours at a time
leaving
morsels
for what have you
until the night
overtakes
and the slide
past that bedtime
whizzes by
once again

.

.

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A story that waits to be told
unfolds quietly
in the hours made up of days
little things
like the glance that speaks louder than words
the dreariness of the day to day
the outburst
over revelations
of having been violated all along
when the one that was trusted
turns out to be
a spy

.

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