Keep Going

It’s 3 a.m., your eyes are white
Keep going, just keep going
Another day without a night
Keep going, just keep going

Tumultuous your dreams were tossed,
Where much is given, much is lost,
And money never covers cost
Keep going, just keep going

I look, and see her sleeping there
Get going now, get going
I stop and sit to stroke her hair
Get going now, get going

As early comes another day.
She sighs, and then she turns away,
I think, and hope, she’ll be okay
Get going now, get going

We do not know what is to come
Keep going, just keep going
And where and what will heal the numb
Keep going, just keep going

But life is this: one dare, one chance,
One spotlight on a single dance,
And one way we must all advance,
Though when, there is no knowing –

Keep going, then.
Keep going, just

Keep

Going

So Familiar

So Familiar

A life led by blind desire,
Lurching toward the funeral pyre

Happenstance spun into meaning,
Private times spent posing, preening

Strings of words on worthless air,
Tableaus struck with no one there

Emptiness and vanity,
Sheltered by insanity

Carved from cells once formed by bliss:

So familiar

All of this


 

(“So Familiar” – 10-23-2014)

Seasons

In spring, you feel the newness of it all.
Each feeling is a flower, fresh, unique;
Like love or loneliness, each one is pure,
And beauty of discovery hangs round
The edges of the garden path that leads
To who you want to be and where and how —
In spring, you feel the newness of it all.


Summer on the edge of madness
Broken in emergent song;
Love’s a shadow born of gladness.
Nights too short for days so long

Shades come down on pages turning,
Glances lead to bodies burning,
Tangled up in their intentions,
Loves and likes and cites and mentions —

Summer in the glowing garden,
Moments known of passing fire,
Ere the fall comes hearts to harden,
Towards the autumn of

Desire


In the cool of autumn, still
We stood and wondered how,
We’d found each other in
This savant maze

A capturing, a visioning,
A laughter, and a pause —
A hymn, but more of promise, than
Of praise

It came with resignation, and
It went without applause;
A family, a faction,
And a fight —

The autumn sun was fading, and
The days were growing dark,
And we were changing colors with
The night


With time, comes winter, with its chill,
And we must finally go inside for heat,
And memories of the spring,
When everything was fresh and new,
And summer,
When we felt how love could be,
When heat was running wild,
Autumn,
When we stood out in the cool,
The evening cool, and watched
The twilight gather with
Its purple whispers
Of a looming time;
A time we’ve only known
As parable

With age, comes winter, with its rime,
And frozen becomes attitude, and time,
There is a slower pace,
And giving up of contest, game, and race;
But character is fate,
And all we leave’s too early, or too late,
The winter has it’s way
There is only the challenge of each day
And dripping memories,
That melt like icicles from trees,
And spring starts for another heart somewhere:
Another heart and life

Somewhere

{ … A Place … }

I know a place of green and blue
With aging fence and turning breeze,
Where once I ran when life was new,
And I was at my ease —

It is now as it ever was.
My feet can feel the downy grass;
I see, from off the riverside
Some bluebirds as they pass —

And memory, that liar’s torch,
Finds confirmation in the fact
Of all that was and is, without
Commotion to distract

For only in the emptiness
Of what is felt when mind is stilled
Could I know what has gone amiss
With what my heart’s been filled —

I know a place of open field
Where I am young again, in mind,
And where there still is space to run,
Or even leave some things
Behind

{ … lines … }

when the lines are angled in,
don’t pretend you’re lonely;
when the pattern’s closing in,
don’t put on you’re sad —-

light does as it always does,
friendship is, where effort was,
though the lines be sharpened in,
much is to be had

if we see that image is
little more than lies;
when we see the way is ours,
then, to our surprise,

we can read between the lines
past our fear, and doubt —-
for the lines that angle in
also angle
out

Worth

The day is gray and wet;
I place a candle here.
I neither can forget,
Nor can remember clear.

The face, it starts to fade,
The voice, it dies away;
I struggle to take hold,
But all is in decay —

For though we light our lights,
The years win out, at last.
The losingest of fights:
Our battle with the past.

But I will not give in,
Though, sure, at last, I’ll fall —
For I loved and was loved,
And that was worth

It all