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"
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
shells beneath the surface shine in sharpened joy for summertime, and colors dance before our eyes: the shock of rainbow-edged surprise - and you know love like lips on lips, in water splashed with fingertips, and sunlight searing through a soul that's gained its way, but lost control so live as though you full intend …
Continue reading "shells"
Now every pathway seems the same, And choices vary not at all; The way of hope, the way of blame, The spring, the summer, winter, fall – They’re all one road. It’s all one thing. The path of tentative mistrust That each new footstep seems to bring Her in this world Of lies And dust
First in a series about depression I'm calling "carnival poems".
a hundred-weight of dreams inside a thousand-weight of fears; some scattered days of hope within and dozen months of tears — a dread that’s born of emptiness, a questioning of worth: a plague of such anxiety as rends the very earth. the colors of accomplishment, ineptitude, or both; the tearing sound that signifies both injury …
Continue reading "a hundred-weight of dreams"