Summer Lament

The Trees seem to beckon

as the Sun sinks low,

but the Heat keeps me apart

from the World I’d like to know.

 

Clouds, obscure! Sun, blink!-

for a short Moment-

so I may venture,

and- no more- lament.

Aches and Pains

My eyes are dry.

My lungs feel like wool sweaters

rolled and stuffed inside me.

Spine is slowly turning into the St. Louis Arch.

Bones stiff as flint.

Muscles like ink pens, exuding

pain from the inside, out.

I’m turning into cardboard.

I’ll be arthritic

before I’m twenty.

Memory

This mirror distorts.

It outdoes the complexity of concavity

and convexity.

It ripples, the scene changes.

It matches the ego,

the mood of the day.

One current will rip through, the other

weaken. Positive.

Negative.

All the synapses connect here-

the hippocampian looking glass.

In the End

We are all shoved under the microscope.

We are each choked by leashes of wire.

We’ve spent years within stores,

at garage sales, perusing someone else’s memories,

because what we have isn’t good enough.

In the end, the “good citizens” are the ones that don’t acknowledge the surveillance.

In the end, the ones that speak up

cause change.

Observation

Thunder sings in

its tremulous language. Rain pours

down like oh-so-many tears.

If only

it would crystallize

like I wish my thoughts would.

 

Observation is

more of a ceaseless,

thankless occupation

whose rewards are never seen

by the observer- the one who records.

 

Blue-gray clouds never scrutinize.

Not the way

the observer does.

Were the Stars My Eyes

Were the Stars my Eyes,

I could truly see-

not just worldly Beauty-

but- vast Eternity.

Far from Home

I never knew that

opening the white door,

leaving the painted white porch,

and walking into the grass,

into the trees, out

onto the hill,

would open up a new world for me-

one that was not even far

from home-

until I did so.

In Isolation

In Isolation

my Ideas flurry-

like snow- and congeal-

with Focus, sans Worry.

“You’re so nice…

“You’re so nice.
You’re not good,
you’re not bad,
you’re just NICE.
I’m not good,
I’m not nice,
I’m just RIGHT.” ~The Witch, from “Last Midnight”

from “Into the Woods” by Stephen Sondheim.

“Reality has a …

“Reality has a funny way of contradicting our firmly held beliefs.”

~from Yangki Christine Akiteng.

I like this quote, because it can be so true.