The Introversive Way

A brief primer on introverts, for you extroverts out there.

The extrovert, whose daily life
Seems naught but dull routine
Will seek adventure when they can
Amidst a crowded scene

For people give them energy
That work just drains away:
And so they need excitement
When they get a holiday

But me, I am an introvert
And people make me tired;
It’s not that I don’t like them
It is just the way I’m wired

So when I get a holiday
From busy working life
I will go someplace peaceful
By myself, or with my wife

For yes — I do like travelling
But don’t like hue-and-cry:
I like to sit and watch the world
Just watch it
Going by

 

(Inspired by this prompt.)

Adjacent Unrealities

In childhood, I stumbled on
Adjacent unrealities
Available on books and screens,
And so began dualities
Of what was really lived, and what
Was merely felt or thought,
But more of these
I almost always sought.

This is part of our growth.
It’s hard to know which to prefer —
Though some of these were bought
And others ambient and free,
I could not see that some of them
Were not that good for me, because
Some of them were.

Slow-forward fifty years and now
That battle has been won:
In the age of overdoing,
Everything is overdone.
The heart’s great appetite for play
Is stretched beyond its moorings,
And everything’s acceptable
As long as it’s not boring.

When I must choose far more
Than my capacity for choosing,
I find it’s to my detriment.
It’s my mind I’m abusing —

It is unhealthy living in
Adjacent unreality:
For real life is the road, and
Fantasy’s

The scenery

Quiet Interlude

Day has fallen
To her knees,
The quietude 
Is deafening,
And love’s a tune
That other people hear —

She muses on
Both light and hope,
The way they each
Are lessening,
And how it is that dreams give way
To fear —

But lightly, o’er across the lake,
An evening bird is singing,
One probably no one but her
Discerns

And isn’t this the way of things,
To wander in the shadows
As each of us into the light

Takes turns

Run The Dunes

The days that we would run the dunes
Until the sun sank low;
Those timeless, breathless afternoons
So free of care and woe

The nights beside the ocean as
The stars came out to shine;
No other spot in mem’ry has
A feel so anodyne

As just to know, now that your gone,
That we were e’er so blessed:
And that, we’ll run again, someday,
Sweet dunes
Where we’ll find
Rest

The Electric Runabout

Learn how new
The old new things seemed,
And understand the veil
That hides us from ourselves

We’re all dropped into
The middle of stories,
We all have roles
With inconsistent characters

When the lights are flashing
And the music’s pumping,
We move because
That’s all life is —

Sometimes.

Did you once shake
The hands of time?
Have you betrothed
To many things?

You feel the chlorine
In your eyes,
That remnant there
That always stings

And you have proved
A feckless friend
Who drinks too much
And laughs too loud,

Enamored with
Your vanity,
You walk the high way
Of the proud,

But parametric
Overtones
Have strengthened your
Endeavor

To draw an audience
Of one.
How decorous,
How clever.

You reach
Your shoulder-circling arm
Around to your next
Would be —

And all of it
Is just so you,
While none is
As it should be.

So learn how new
The old things seemed
When they were first
Seen newly,

And just how empty
All can be
When you cannot live

Truly