Relative Something

.

.

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

and then
there was the time
and time again
when things didn’t go
quite the way
we did intend
as if what we are waiting for
isn’t simply hiding
just around the bend
in a place that’s twice as real
as the one inside our heads
unlike what we read in books
about any wild thing
never happening to us
that we compare with our life
of normal happenstance
harrowing familial dance
and every daily grind
to see the pieces we use
to frame our reference
to build a psychic fence
we know we have to climb
from which we then feel fear
for what we might see
on the other side
of the inside of ourselves
we hardly intend to reveal
even though we always do
every single day
by saying what we say
and saying it in a way
that paints us every day
with our own broad brush, okay

In honor of the rather swift shift in our weather of late toward the cold and barren season looming before us, I dug out this little memory of the time of year just opposite…

.

There is a light touch
that is somehow related
to the depth of the blue
in the sky today
standing in such stark contrast
to the green of everything
else
it makes you wonder
if you forgot to breath
would it all just end?

The sounds that dance
about this vision
of blues and greens
not only fill in the blanks
they bring about an overflowing
taking it over the top
making it nothing
short of
more than one can whelm

not just the birds
or the breeze
shaking so many leaves
even the planes
plying their brand of physics
in mother nature’s sky

but it is the smell
of each and every fragrance
unleashed by spring-to-summer dramas
that makes it all look so swell
and causes us to think
about what we didn’t tell
of the times we learned so much
they return to us again and again
when we are caught by the glorious invasion
of beauty above and beyond
sun shine bathing green things
on a blue-sky day
the last day of May
at one of our favorite places of all time

© 2007