Poem: Burden

day in
day out
we accumulate
weighty regret
of angry words spoken
and kind words withheld
weighing down our souls
with the cumbersome straw weight
of a thousand delusions of “if only I…”

forgive yourself
to be better
to do better
and allow yourself to fly.

Ramble: Infinite Sadness

Some days are better than other days. And some days are more bitter.

I write poetry and short prose as the cadence of the moment catches my heart and soul. My words are alive with thoughts and feelings inspired by the turmoil inside, and by the words I read on luminescent screens. What I write is fictionalized reality. Not to be confused with the augmented reality of Pokemon Go.

Oh boy augmented reality – and now I must digress as to me that is a marketing spiel misnomer. How on earth is a virtualized representation of the world reality? Google maps and Google earth is not reality. It is a digitized and abstracted representation of the world as documented at a specific point in time and space. It is not reality.

To then layer an further abstraction on top of an abstraction is not augmenting reality. It is at best an augmented abstraction. If you abstract the abstract, is it now more or less real? At what point does abstraction become avoidance and distraction?

Augmented reality is simply an extended and extruded artificial reality.

Okay now where was I? Ah yes – the creative process that drives my random blather. Am I then also an abstraction of an abstraction? And if you cut an abstraction is that a castration? Oops I mean a subtraction…

Focus!

My brain is not here today. Monday is blamed for the blues – yet this Monday wallowing in depths beyond the normal start of the week blues. These blues have deepened into midnight black of the inner abyss, spiraling down into dark pits. Crushing gravitational singularity black hole. Now I write to find the theoretical wormhole of escape to escape into other dimensions. And I find….

I got nothing.

Complete blank. Zilch. Zip. Nada. Zero. Negative infinity. Oi.

I am at this point in time creatively flat-lined. And no amount of artistic electricity is reviving this one. Call it. This post is officially dead at 3:33 PM on August  15, 2016.

Poem: Drained

There are days like this poem
that go on and on endlessly
in ceaseless plodding living

off line
off air
off base

even the hill that is my bed
is much to hard to climb today
it is calling
come here: cocoon
beneath cool sheets
and ceiling fans

instead I lie
in lowly state
in living room
incapable

no hopes
no dreams
no love
no voice

drained
dried
damned.

Poem: Ring

this is the hope we’ve found
thin cold ribbon wrapped round
I to you am now bound
ringing sweet golden sound
as our love is full crowned
here on this holy ground…

sound of heart
sound of mind
sound of bells
ringing ringing
ringing loud

now let the world know
how in love we will grow
in toil and in truth
and devotion forsooth.

Poem: Repeat

if at first
and then again
why not do the do some more?
what’s the worry?
spend the time
cycle back
and down around
recycle failure
pound for pound
making better
what ain’t so good
you know you want to
you know you should

remember this:
there’s no point in failing
if all you’re going to do is quit!

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