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"
he works in gray and granite and numbers without end, he plans across the planet as dividends descend. the world is colorless and flat, of surfaces and corners — of businessmen who live and die, but seem to leave no mourners. he closes then his midday eyes to join a world that’s only his… across … Continue reading "* the fiery river *"
Thoughts on a morning walk.
We should not care so much about appearance. I read this everyday, and everywhere — But yet we will; and brook no interference In judging others. Nor curtail our care For our own looks; for our own way of seeming. We seem to want to have this thing both ways — The moral view, that … Continue reading "Mixed Signals"