Friday, February 22, 2019

Seeking Our Own Definitions


(In draft)


uhhhhggg.. .meeehhhhghhhhng...

square peg round hole
taught to force itself into a space too small
It hurts
the walls of our psyches are bleeding

Queens trying to conform to a twin, a king, or a double
uhhhhggg.. .meeehhhhghhhhng... ugh
the struggle is real folks
To big, too small, too tight, too long
God Damn Goldilocks

Who are we?
What are we?
Who the hell do you think you are?
What gives you the right?

We don't like or appreciate your prefabricated construct
demanding we FIT IN
when we were born to stretch OUT
Expand, Evolve
Outside your constraints, outside your assumptions
definitions and limitations.

We live on a board we no longer wish to play
fighting an opponent who set the stage long ago;
while stretching and pulling at the yoke
bucking their limitations
in search of our own.

Shudder....


Saturday, January 26, 2019

A Stolen Moment...


Happy Friday!
Happy Friday!
Happy Friday!

Sigh... head back
glass of red
in this moment
in this now.;
allowing for the existence
of nothing else;
embracing the first jubilant silent squeal
... ahhhhhh!

Forgotten Spells


Words once eluded me, so I collected them in a well, and held them captive in a pen - drawing from its depths only when intuition so directed.

Now, Words, like so many spells, I cherish in a fashion likened to Death’s grip for fear of unfathomable prophecies & unintended consequences.

The Word and Will thus unwed
I seek to put myself nightly abed anight, and pray my dreams too, cause no harm.

But…
Stuck in my head
ripe words
pungent words
invented words
spell casting words,
bottle necking mono & multi-syllabic words,
phrases, meanings, truths and lies I've told myself;
all call for action and inaction
noisily compete for dominance
in the hope of hitting upon some
"lottery winning" combination that leaves room 
for nothing more than blinding illumination;
but my imaginary pen cannot keep up
and the combination eludes me,
as does succor.

When Gods Speak

We are the quarrel of Sparrows
Autumn's dark rain
the Beetle under the floor board
the Ghost calling your name
the Shadow on the wall
the Reflection in the pool
the step in the Dark
the Unanswered call.

We are the Presence under the door
the Harbinger in the gloom
the Dead under the moor
the Face on the moon.

We are the Dust under your feet
the Speck in your eye,
the Crack in the sidewalk
the truth in every Lie.

We are the Chill up your spine
the Hot Breath on your neck
the slipped errant thought
and the Song you can't forget

We are Portents, 
you our Supplicants
Pay Attention

or we will speak louder.