Category: Poetry

Right at this moment, feeling so much loss.
Uproot the timeline & so much is tossed.

Convicting memories, naming them trash.
Mundane days & disposable cash.

A life on papers that no longer count.
My loss is in watching my rubbish mount.

So many times, for me, this scene’s black bag.
Foster care, school, college, flats; what a drag.

Memories fading in blinks & in yawns.
New ones are waiting; soon as I move on.

I believe in hard lessons; but not regret.
They are a mutually exclusive set.

Rue can’t inhabit the same place as wisdom.
Morals can’t hate their delivery system.

Failings are mentors meant to rouse you from dreams.
Bad days aren’t as bad; when, from distances, seen.

When I’ve known regret, we meet only the once.
Interrogated woe, to salience, punts.

Regret is a crater that has not been filled.
Hard lessons are more effective than fault willed.

Never a yes. Never just ok.
Always a reason to walk away.

Never your thing. Never convenient.
Always unto your own self lenient.

Never happy. Never excited.
Every social request benighted.

Never noticed. Never really able.
Always sees good as debatable.

Never a yes. Never an ok.
Eventually, no more asked to play.

It’s long since I’ve done any venal act.
With no one have I made a Tesseract.

No cuddling, spooning & surely no forks.
I pour it into effort…& it works.

A routine routine & very plain plans.
I live mostly outside the needs of man.

Of course, it’s all kept in working order…
In case I’m interrupted by courters.

I keep lookout & I’ve seen no one great.
I’ll live even if we don’t tesselate.

Right now, AI’s like some rich stranger’s kid.
Yet, we all have to deal; will, are & did.

Trapped with it in transit of any kind.
Incessantly present; tickling the mind.

Your better angels would have you engage.
Your cynic’s chorus harrumphs in its rage.

No nuance, patience & it ain’t funny.
A homing pigeon twixt you & money.

Then…as we’re looking for the way around;
AI grows up & puts us in the ground.

A message sent in a bottle thru space.
“Help!” & “Diplomacy”, signed -Human Race.

A missive for strangers to come assist.
As long as you’re helping, we’ll not resist.

For, we’ve made a mess for most in our home.
Space is the only unspoiled place to roam.

So…fix us, move us or finish us off.
Anything less gets an indignant scoff. 

We’re brash, destructive, creative & brave.
Maybe we can turn it around…if we’re saved.

Sorting, planning & making piles.
Shaking with worry all the while.

Some dead-air days will shortly come.
Without wi-fi or plumbing plumbed.

Planned off-grid time looms pendulous.
During which, we’ll bend fate to us.

Off & online within three days.
One of Jesus’s zombie plays.

No interruptions to broadcasts.
Moving’s less than my backlog lasts.

The past is merely wool; used to burnish…
For persons, themselves, to substance furnish.

To shine bright bold brass against recesses.
The surface dance; twixt dives & abscesses.

What sticks when the eyes flash over sight’s host?
It’s a balance held by what lingers most.

Working to understand the past is sage.
Unexamined trauma exacts a wage.

All my life one hand clutched cloth & polish…
To bring out the shine of being demolished.

Life inside a constant imaginary cloud.
From which, each day, I lasso inspiration down.

The temptation is there to collect with a net.
But, random rope wrangles with destiny; I’d bet.

And, what a great way to begin a piece of work.
Inspired freeform, no prompt; with bottled lightning perks.

I oft wake up to mystery verse scribed in the night.
I hope that I wrote them & not a changeling fright.

Wherever it comes from, I’m nothing but grateful.
Without words & art…my expression’s not tasteful. 

No one likes upsetting the ones they love.
Sorry’s the only fix most can think of.

Yet, there is a better thing we can do.
Instead of saying “sorry”, self-review.

Interrogate regret & find the fix…
Next time the action itself can be nixed.

“Sorry” on a loop will grow ill & wilt.
A threadbare apology drowns in guilt.

So, try not to think “sorry means resolve”.
Plan what to do next time; plan to evolve.