The Everything in the Everyday
He’s asking today for the tangible ghosts,
The fungible fog, the tradable mist —
He’s wading today through the rippling bog,
Aflame with the thoughts of the lips he once kissed —
But all of his fancies go drifting away,
Like the clouds in his beer when the whiskey pours through:
He’s longing today for more tangible ghosts
Than the ones that still haunt him
When thinking
Of you
When she was almost young, she slept
Next to the fields of pure delight;
When she went almost out, she heard
Of secret pleasures in the night
When she felt almost love, she dreamed
Of freedom found in ecstasy —
Yes, when she almost lived, she lived
Just two doors down
From me
(“Almost” – 5-21-2017)
it was a day, a memory,
a hoped-for thing that wasn’t sought,
i’d never known your secret want,
but knew i really shouldn’t ought
the sky was gray and cold outside,
the moments hung, depending —
but inside, all was warm and wrong
when you and i
were blending
She opened up a single empty box
That held her happy memories within,
And saw the mere projection of her hope
That had become more real than earthly him –
She sat out on the highway of remorse,
And stared out at the blue and distant sea;
Accepting, underneath the glaring sun,
The hope she’d held was just
Illusory
[The author of this blog would like to assure everyone that no photo models were harmed in the taking of the attached photo, I think. – Owen]
her regrets, like the ocean
in their immensity and constant turmoil
surrounded both of us –
far too real to be ignored
because i loved her,
i left her ocean undisturbed;
because i love her,
i offer only my
acceptance
we who live
live with imperfect knowledge;
we cannot know outcomes
there we sat,
surrounded by the ocean;
here i sit now,
surrounded by my own thoughts
my friend:
i do love you.
and love,
like stars that hover
high above any ocean,
does not change the water,
but give us –
if only for a time –
something else
to look at
This isn’t my neighborhood anymore;
This isn’t the place where I start each day –
Habitual turn to come up this street
I lost awhile back when we moved away
But we raised our kids in a house back there,
And what seemed important then now seems small:
The hopes that we had, and the agonies –
They, none of them now, seem to matter at all
And as I drive by, I feel shuddering,
As though the last ghost just passed through my door:
It, all of it now, has just flown away —
This isn’t my neighborhood
Anymore
if I could bring the moments back,
the pictures frozen there in time,
we would be laughing in the snow
that now falls only in my mind.
for you were lovelier than all
this cold and wintered heart has known;
and i can see, unfaltering,
the love and grace that lately shone
from out of your once smiling face.
enthusiasm pure and clear
in moments that i treasure now
that you have gone
and i’m still here
This is a prompted post.
