I love to misinterpret things; It something I do well — I’ve done it many, many times: Far more than I could tell It’s something of a habit, or A signature, perhaps — And so, I am like time itself: We both just Always Lapse
A threadbare carpet, dim and musty walls, A few stray lightbulbs left to flicker on, An emptiness as tangible as touch, And something like an orange-blossom scent, As measuredly, unsteadily I step To reach at last the doorway. There I pause, For knowing who is on the other side, I breathe in my surroundings, deep … Continue reading "At Last The Doorway"
Mine is the soul that shows no marks Of human habitation; Mine is the kingdom of regret, The realm of desolation Once on the corner of desire, Life was blurred and speeding; Now I’ve a heart that bears no marks, But cannot rest For bleeding
Across the lake, the crying of the birds Within my head, the emptiness of words The winter with it’s promise soon to come The lonely cold inside that leaves me numb The sunrise spilling truth for those who see The darkness of my own hypocrisy The world is glory, magic and surprise And I’m no … Continue reading "Constrast and Counterpoint"
This is where I live, This is where I go, This is what I see, This is what I know. Maybe it’s not much, Leaf and tree and fall; Yet, though I’ve lived long, I don’t know it all. This is why I drive. This is why I roam: I must understand And take in … Continue reading "This Is Where I Live"
In real life, I am really dull. So I made a persona: A poet who goes everywhere – To Spain, to Arizona — Who plumbs the depths of human heart, And gauges those in power; Who sings upon a concert stage And climbs the highest tower — Instead of just some bald guy, who By … Continue reading "Dull"
Metal built and long twisted Ladders out of safety and indolence Stretching towards life-sustaining substance To help those that would grow and to Escape the flames Always overhead
My hands approach the keys So many me’s That just encroach the peace
A helper, at best.