“Set your expectations down the day they get too heavy; take your worries one-by-one, for they will come in bevy. Find your joys in moments felt, it’s there that they arise in, and do not lose the road your on in search of the horizon.” I hear the voice … Continue reading "Fields of Floundering"
The calm veneer, the flowery scent, The mold inside, the desiccant — Deception: that’s our daily run, But we think we’re the only one. Now warning labels are attached To butterflies, and zeroes, With wolves in number at the door, All advertised as heroes. We do not know inside or out, Nor when things end … Continue reading "Brick by Brick, Part 1"
This poem’s ending happily, I’ll tell you right up front. It’s when the moon’s at syzygy You question if that’s quite a word: It is. And there’s the brunt Of what I mostly meant to say Today, tomorrow, yesterday — For there are words that you can see Like apogee, or perigee, Of doubtless authenticity. … Continue reading "At Syzygy"
I was taught that ignorance Is to be pitied; none of us, After all, came to earth particularly Enlightened, and all of us came Defenseless, selfish, and needy. Many do not know what You or I may particularly know, But all of us come by our knowledge (As we do all forms of riches) By … Continue reading "The Moral Throne"
So, what is real? It’s not these memories: The halt, spasmodic assays of my past Are pictures now, hung up in galleries, Some early chapters, neither best nor last. For love is not a happening. It is A work of many choices, many deeds; It is the touch that bears us through our grief, The … Continue reading "No Sunset"
a gentleman stopped me by the pool to ask if i knew pleasure; i said, “don’t bother me today. i travel with my treasure.” but twisted is the human way, much anger, a disease — and life a daily intercourse with mephistopheles
Day is waning slowly, slowly, Hearts are wrestling with rest; Anxious lives are only, only Struggles latent, unconfessed Pity is a strange compassion, Silence part of all that’s holy — You and I are still in transit; Love’s still growing Slowly, Slowly
When you think you know the future, Many strange things will you do; When we’re right, we don’t think “lucky” — That’s the human point of view. Public lives are filled with hubris, Most are not accountable, For the world is asymmetric: This seems insurmountable. What was genius now is folly, What was right’s been … Continue reading "Prognostication"
We live in Georgis. Summer sucks. It’s hotter than Tabasco — We need to find a cooler place, Like Maine, or like Nebrasko The pavement’s black And radiates. It’s positively solar — That’s followed up With hurricanes To feed the general dolor The beaches are All far away; We’re plagued by large mosquitoes And all … Continue reading "Georgia Summer"