Eidolons & Echoes

Bent
From the ghosts we carry, daily,
How much we knew we only thought we knew —
As beautiful, in leather binding, we
Stand perched upon the shelves of
Our denial

The smell of binding, permeates
The air that’s seen the shadows of
What was our best intention: we,
The afterthoughts of all the thought-before,
Like echoes in forgotten caves,
The tomb of innocence.

Where is the harmony once felt?
Where is the melody once sung?
The singers stand on risers, now, unheard:
To face an audience
Whose backs are turned, and faces are up-lit.

What does it mean to understand?
What does it mean to add to human progress?
Is it more than just a phantom, shadows
Of an eidolon; a word forgotten like
The way we used to organize
The universe?

Depressed

At times, she barely knows herself,
The image in the mirror:
Whatever all she’s thought to dream
Grows anything but clearer.

Her life is chaos: interweave,
A web, a maze, a lattice,
And if not for irrelevance,
She’d have no other status.

So many think her fortunate:
A star in this big circus —
But she knows emptiness, the kind
That comes when hope

Deserts us

4 Poems On 1 Photo

In moments that matter,
Other people’s feelings become
Matters of moment


I see stories everywhere,
So I don’t go out that much;
Half-unfinished tales crowd in,
Daughter’s tears and mother’s touch,

Signifying — Daddy’s gone?
Signifying — Hunger? Thirst?
Speculation, all the time:
Writers: we’re the very worst


In autumn, tears, like dew upon the ground
Unbidden come to cover mulchy leaves;
The air grows hard, and little space is found,
Though paths be wide, for one who sees, who grieves —

But love, a blanket, warms us when it can:
A moment’s pause, a word, two hands to touch
That close the distance, whate’er be the span,
That’s caused by what’s too wrong, too hard, too much,

But still lets tears maintain their gentle flow.
This is connection’s secret, to respect:
Each other’s cares to care to truly know
And neither to obscure, nor to deflect.

  There is a time for each of us to fall,
  When only loving kindness helps at all.


When you can love someone
More for the love they give others
Than they give you,
You will understand

Classical Poetry, as Updated by My Despicable Friends

(A few of my friends – some of whose adventures I have chronicled previously – found out I kept a poetry blog, and have provided me with some helpful suggestions for poems. A selection of the more repeatable ones are shown below. – Owen)


I met a traveler from an antique land
Who said, “You suck.”


I wandered lonely as a cloud
But at least I was high


Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?
Thou art more hot and e’en
More likely to drive me to drink


This is the way the world ends
This is the way the world ends
This is the way the world ends
Not with a bin but a hamper.


One must have a mind of winter
To read this poem
And make any sense of it, whatsoever


I saw the best minds of my generation…
Not really.
The best minds of my generation
Wouldn’t have anything to do with me.


Come live with me and be my love,
And we shall all the pleasures prove
Of trailer park, and nature trail,
And Bud Light purchased (when on sale)

3 Beliefs – 2

Joy comes interlaced with pain
Everywhere we are, or go;
Golden childhood tales contain
Match girls dying in the snow —

All we think to say, or feel,
Frozen days by sunlight graced —
Bricks and mortar of what’s real:
Joy and pain are

Interlaced