Poem: Morning Comes

morning dew
on the ground
moist and wet
all around

feel the heat
from the sun
softly touch
we’ve begun

nestle near
soft and slow
going now
with the flow

feel your breath
on my skin
caressing
from within

take it slow
we’ve no where
more important
to be

 

Poem: Corner

All your life, you live so close to truth, it becomes a permanent blur in the corner of your eye. And when something nudges it into outline, it is like being ambushed by a grotesque.
Tom Stoppard

sharp point
lurking in the darkness
waiting for the bumbling
stumbling night-walkers

dilemma:
turn on the light
and avoid the pain
– but burn the eyes?
And how the eyes burn
when truth is unveiled…

I mean really
what are the odds
I’ll bump it again?

Overconfident
I once again prove
statistics are a comfortable lie
we wield to avoid being sensible.

there.

point made
painfully
point taken

and one that soon I will forget
as I limp back to warm dreaming.

Poem: Acceptance

Acceptance in human psychology is a person’s assent to the reality of a situation, recognizing a process or condition (often a negative or uncomfortable situation) without attempting to change it, protest. The concept is close in meaning to ‘acquiescence’, derived from the Latin ‘acquiēscere’ (to find rest in).

There is no use
in me at all;
There is no point
in me at all;
There is only
realization –
dawning deeply
rising meekly:

regretfully
I am who I am.

Unlike Descartes
who thought and was
It’s clear to me
I am not who
I thought to be
and in not being
the ideal that
I thought to think
it seems I’m naught
but thought unthought
mind undone besot
unthinked distraught.

I am dust-bin
droppings
hydrated then
animated
clock-work
coil-bound
automaton
winding down
spinning round
soulless tedium
mind-numbing
tiresome

You cannot save me
even resurrect re-wind me

I am done and undone
desiccated
dissipated
spring unsprung
string unstrung
song untongued
spiritless
barren broken
disowned unspun

You can not hear me
nor do you care to listen

these words slip
past your eyes
instantly vanish
from your thoughts
as you ponder
the potential
of last night’s
stale leftovers
to satisfy your
gnawing hunger

There is no use
in this at all;
There is no point
in this at all;
There is only
realization –
dawning fully
sinking softly:

recognizing
I am no one at all.

Poem: Water Logged

h-two-oh
h-two-oh!
sliding down my skin
h-two-oh
h-two-oh!
dripping with our sin
h-two-oh
h-two-oh!
salty tears and sweat
h-two-oh
h-two-oh!
we soaking ocean wet
h-two-oh
h-two-oh!
riding out these waves
h-two-oh
h-two-oh!
that make us misbehave
h-two-OH
h-two-OH!

tsunami rushing in
tsunami bursting out
tsunami take me home
tsunami in in your arms
resting joyous now.

still waters run deep
swirling primal memories
embedded in our genes.