Old Poem, Age 21

When love first breaks Like dawn across the sky, Your heart fills up And all the old fears die And every cold And lonely day recedes, Within the ground Are planted golden seeds -- When love first breaks Like shattered porcelain, The heart lies broken, Filled with fears again The cold returns To fill us … Continue reading "Old Poem, Age 21"

The Days of Life

The days of life come few and fast: we feel, we fight, we sleep, we try -- But there's no anodyne of hope to give us strength to glimpse the sky Behind the sludge we paste upon our eyes, with all we read into Our sagging minds. For what is time that we should fill … Continue reading "The Days of Life"

in absentia

the wintertime explodes in color, joy inside and out of doors: ration passion? out of fashion racked and stacked in all the stores of remaining yule provisions. how the shelves were cleared and steered towards what we have all been missing: hope, that lately, disappeared

come, feel

come, feel the wind across the water, smell the hint of salty air; come, see the silent and secluded, i will come, and join you there. there, we'll know our hearts are beating, and that life is tall and wide; there, there's comfort in succeeding turning what's outside, inside

once, machines

once, machines: noisy, noisome, shouts across a noxious room then, a world that's changing, moving, turns a hive into a tomb once, alive, in grease and oil, iron moving, weight and steel, time, like trains, in one direction, cares not how we think or feel

Weatherbeaten

The wind and rain have seasons where they will work their ways; They wear us down, eventually, But it is no disgrace To live the years, and show the years, for as time goes, we follow -- And there's a peace that comes at last, when we are still and hollow

Where It All Leads

The day has come; I wander off to think. My purpose has been accidental, and A change is coming; I am on the brink Of being somewhere I don't don't understand. The years like track that's led me to this place. December coming, ghostly falls the snow: Do I keep going, with no place to … Continue reading "Where It All Leads"

Programmatic

she said i love and so should you he said i think i understand they went into the written blue and came to know the bad and true he asked should we or couldn't we? she shook her head but silently the programmatic answer came no one to love someone to blame

Our One Stories

The world is a plurality, The stories many, varied; But we are busy people, anxious, Put upon and harried -- And so we simplify our lives By screening our own show; We do not see the pictures, we Replace with what we know, As though our lives are every life, And we, the peak, the … Continue reading "Our One Stories"