Perfect Leaving Stance

I see you breathing slowly, in and out, before you go
Arching your back, with your hands behind you
Rotating this way and that as the voices sound their good-byes

You bend a little with each embrace
And twist your neck around as your grip tightens
Then lunge toward the door, and rest your hand
On the doorknob, rotating it slowly

Focus now on where you are going
Turning, looking back no more
Feel the roots let go
Feel your breath rise and fall
And surrender yourself completely
To yourself

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Observationalia

Hang around here in the blogosphere
And you’ll notice a thing, or two —
Like you can discuss almost anything
‘Cause here, nothing’s really taboo.

You can write in detail about that one bad habit
Or write about sex more than rabbits can have it.
Politics, faith and your first ovulation;
An interesting blog would make rude conversation.

But I’ve found one thing that nobody will do.
So it appears there’s at least one last taboo —
Its what people earn. I read nary a croak
About people’s income — unless they are broke.

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A Soul, Lost

Walking By

Baby
Dependent, powerless
Reaching, grasping, hungering
Satisfied in love’s embrace
Child

Changing
Powerful, animate
Reaching, grasping, searching
Unhappy alone or accompanied
Growing

Conqueror
Dominant, willful
Reaching, grasping, controlling
Fleeting joys of victory
Winner

Soulless
Friendless, valueless
Reaching, grasping, stealing
Slowly fading, ever fading
Hollow

Full Stop Period Piece

I took an elastic band.
I drew dots on the band each one inch apart.
I nailed one end of the band to a table.
I stretched the band.
The farther from the nail a dot was, the greater the distance moved.
This is a property of expanding things that are constrained on one side.

So it is with us, the human dots, the living monads.
Those willing to stretch move apart from those who will not.

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The Albany Neglected

Here am I, where no one knows the way.
I sleep in shadow through the creeping day.
I think it best to not get up again
And haunt once more the avenues of men.

My sister lives here too, she was the first
To find this place; before our bubbles burst
And spent themselves, quite useless, to the air,
So we this silent watch could ever share.

She ran alive into a hail of life,
While I lived angry, cultivating strife –
But none remember where we lived, or how;
We lie, forgotten, underneath this bough.

So each day, try to add another friend –
When none remain you knew, you die again

Into the Arena

Arena

Early and dark, Arena lies
In shadows — Long and empty halls
Where later, streams of bubbling crowds
Pour into seats in rivulets;
But dark, Arena lies.

The girl who dreams, the boy who sleeps,
They rise and tumble, lift and fall;
And later, stand enormous, proud —
But now lie calmly at their rest;
The girl who dreams, the boy who sleeps.

Live for life for heaven’s sake
Find the time your chance to take
Bring your heart, your will to soar,
Or don’t come near Arena’s door.

Bright in the sun, Arena waits
And welcomes all who come its way
Although most never win its game
The countless still line up to try —
Bright in the sun, Arena waits.

Arena lights up with the night
To win, to lose, to gain, to pay;
To wander in without a name
And leave with one money can’t buy —
Arena lights up with the night.

Live for life for what is worth
Take your shot at joy and mirth
Bring your passion through the door
And play out on Arena’s floor.

Two Poems – “Rondo” and “The Great Invisible”

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RONDO

The story’s new, the day has just begun
And eyes shine brightly in the morning sun
Which runs its smooth quotidian arc
To hand the same old story to the dark.

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THE GREAT INVISIBLE

I am the great invisible –
Not a part of any story,
Biding in no category,
Somewhere, lost in inventory,
Covered up, inside a drawer:

I am the great invisible –
Advance words, but you repel them,
Have vague hopes, but you dispel them,
Comments – but then I misspell them,
Taken into un-rapport.

I am the one who isn’t here –
Never, never I assail you,
I don’t try, so I don’t fail you,
Passing by, I will not hail you,
I, your conscience guarantor.

I am the great, although unseen –
I the one who’s never harried,
Always dragged, and never carried
When asleep, or when I’m buried
I’m no less when I’m no more.