that doom is always coming is easy to predict, for all we know dwells deep within a certain interdict that wind and wash will wear away whate’er we think the norm — so lives are what we are, and do, before and in the storm
the staying of dismissal: he remains. but still she is unsure, and thinks that, perhaps, she granted clemency where there was no sincere remorse (maybe?) there is no process so impossible to untangle as that of strangering: how it is people we know become people we never knew. = = = she stares, now, at … Continue reading "reversal"
For as long as she could, she danced: wherever, whenever. Every day. She didn’t dance because she was the best at it. She didn’t dance for the attention. She danced for love of dancing, for the pure joy of it. Long before I met, and fell in love with, and married her, she had this … Continue reading "For Love of Dancing"
The battle started long ago...
there's little shelter to be found once ship has left the port; the elements will have their say and nature make its sport -- for trouble, and adventure, both can lead, or, devastate: and sailors no more dodge the wind than lovers hide from fate
Hi. My name is Restlessness – Now, who needs love, it’s so impolitic;And what use truth when you have rhetoric? I am the stranger, sulking in the corner,And at most parties, I’m the only mourner —To face the world that is takes more than courage;I know, because, in that way, I’m a purist — So, … Continue reading "My Name is Restlessness"
I give you what I have in posts For we are poor in other ways; We walk along the waterside And dream of nights, amid these days, Of multitude, and lassitude, And attitude, and power: A sun that shines on shoulders cold, A view atop the tower … Continue reading "Posts"
People come to me and say, “Live as though there’s just today.” Need that really now be said? Life is short, and soon we’re dead — Dead to memory, and touch: It’s not thinking overmuch Knowing that, since life short, It’s more than a watcher’s sport. Days to come are not what was; Living is … Continue reading "A Solo Among the Couplets"
The world is full of resonance Of loving echoes ringing; The birds still try to tell us this, If we but hear their singing For sound can glitter in the air, And make the sad soul glisten — The world is full of resonance, If we but stop To listen