Category: Poetry

Happily ever after? You’ve gotta be fucking kidding.
Linear living don’t work that way…neither does Fate’s bidding.

Thru an ocean of time, you conceive routes bereft of sorrow?
Today can’t be conceived absent yesterday & tomorrow.

Do you really desire stasis in amber stone forever?
Joy knows not of vacuums & without grief…love’s no endeavor.

You think the measure of your being is naught without a with?
A desert’s sandy grains crave water; though rare & nearly myth.

Why seek to fill your holes with someone you just have not yet got?
Be ye whole in who you are…& that includes the things you’re not.

So easy to not be patient; much quicker than silence & wait.
Never bothering with details; just hunger hunting for its sate.

Blind to any bigger picture; tunnel vision for winning now.
Closed off from any longer games; only this next move & its how.

The ease of pulling out plugs; the swiftness of life with a gun.
Forget even seeing the switch; the barrel sight shows what you’ve won.

One is dead & one left alive; the simple binary of war.
Just living one second longer; this is short-sighted vision’s core.

But, why fight for time & for place; when the battling expends both faster?
Why not stop chasing our shadows; & concentrate on their caster?

The fuel of life is often fear & resistance.
Oft disguised as needs & ambition’s insistence.

Whichever one  works & motivates us forwards…
Be it candy covered or painted in swearwords.

The goals that we lurch for, however we arrive…
Evaporate instantly & still, we contrive.

Confecting new goals from the ashes of the last;
We hold on to nothing & hold onto it fast.

We lunge for our freedom, for fairness & for breath.
Yet, silent secret, we know the finish line’s death.

Such fuss over a ring that has not rung.
Breathless for a ding that has never dung.

Why be a toad when you can be a prince?
Why wait as a frog for desperate kiss?

So much worry over love not promised.
Wasted wanting for stories dishonest.

Overthought chance; romantic comedy.
Underwhelmed by fact; therefore tragedy.

Don’t hang your hearts & souls on what could be.
Choose here & now; wake from dreaming & see.

Overexposure is an inoculate notion.
Just a little poison in every drop of potion.

They will refuse this vaccine as a sacrilege.
They’ll even burn the healers for assumed sortilege.

For what will they use to set spark to our effigies?
Paintings & pages of expressive necessities.

After pyre smoke clears, herds will be weaker & bleaker.
Not having been armored by the novels of seekers.

Many creatives will willingly martyr themselves.
The rest disguise & hide…
 hoping for free future shelves.

Don’t scurry squirrel, don’t hurry wren.
It’s me, I’m your faithful forest friend.

You see me daily; I know your name.
I would never think of you as game.

Don’t scamper chipmunk, don’t scatter fowl.
I am no hunter with fang wreathed growl.

I know your stripe, your quack & your song.
Be not afraid; I won’t keep you long.

I just want to hold your gaze a beat…
Nod & acknowledge your native seat.

Yes to reincarnation…I just don’t think you have to die.
We can build ourselves many times anew with a fresher lie.

A shell of deceit becomes a truth if only we would molt.
The fight for growth that carapace cracks is personal revolt.

We strive to make our falsehoods true…these cocoons that we outgrow.
Who’d believe a leggy worm who claimed the sky was his to know?

We use some credit claiming goals that are only just in sight.
The forebears of aeronautics never saw a plane in flight.

My theory is this…theories are truths that haven’t shed their lies.
 To die just shy of validation makes dreamers no less wise. 

I find myself so jealous of all your ink.
The cartoon images taunt me with a wink.

They’re with you under clothes & the shower.
They watch your dreams & stay when your mood’s sour.

The pictures have better views than your shadow.
They know whether or not you rock commando.

They carry a feeling only you can share.
They remain even when nobody is there.

I’m green with envy at their intimate lives.
You committed them to skin…beloved archives.

“Hurry up & wait!”, said the sun to rise.
“All in good time for the most watchful eyes.”

“So, keep time & observe while stage sets are changed”.
“If it all moved faster; all would be deranged”.

“See, we cleave to our clocks without quite knowing.”
“The world lives faster than boredom is showing.”

“One hour is sixty seven thousand miles.”
“But, does that make waiting more worth your wiles?”

“You notice your pace in relation to goals.”
“Have patience & perspective…there are no controls!”

Even the shadows graze my face.
Caressing with sun dappled lace.

Peaceful light in corridors green.
Canopy filtered marbled scene.

All seems possible, even flight.
If not, hearts flutter at the sight.

Bright emerald walls closing in.
They’re leafy muffs for big smoke din.

I’d haunt these wooden halls always.
Alas, these are spring’s fleeting days.