I am not a poet. Yet, I feel compelled to set out verse to the Universe. I acknowledge and celebrate. If you read it, it’s all on you.
the pendulum’s post swings in wide arcs
manic and unfettered are the points between
living one death
blue on a sunny day
closed windows, curtains drawn
ideas scurry around the cerebrum
pheromones tickle neurons
no rhyme, no raison d’etre
inner aboriginal corrupts the exoteric self
My original post was going to be Jabberwocky related, then I realized that I was in a bit of a jam
I could jabber about something or I could break through and jam the words
The taunting monster that jammed my words slain with my vorpel sword
Beasties in the shadows trembled fearfully before the vorpel-o-city of my weapon
Words fluttered round my head, whispering as they alighted on my shoulder
Talons pierced my flesh as wings heaved mightily toward the sky.
The Jabberwocky lumbered, whole, to its feet and howled in triumph
No safety in words
No world without
Shadows undulate, adding to the jubilant chorus
Words swirls and dart around
Released from the cruel grasp I tumble and flail
Engulfed by past, present, and future
I succumb to the Jabberwocky’s victory
Frolic in the shadows
Colored by memories, the world composed
Red Rover, Red Rover enticed to comes over
strange, new, different
buried memories disinterred
good, bad, attack, cajole
lightning dances along nerves
agitated, nauseous, sweaty
well-meaning words build or destroy
shove, pull, crowd consensus
dark corner, crumple, discarded
Love handles, muffin top
How many ways to hate – your body, your self, your life
Restrict, refrain, regret
Wishful it didn’t matter
No need for validation of Oz, the master of mundane, to pontificate
Palms slap against the belly, sliding to the hips
Fecundity – lost
Tall, skinny, healthy, sick, short, young
Fire of adversity refine
Birthing hopeful acceptance
anger is pointless
bumps in the road
soar or fall
no path untraveled
twinkle, flare, burst, flash
Miss you Dad (CEG 1939-2001)
For every star that shines, another dims
A universal dance – spinning, swirling against the black
Sparks flung into the cosmos marking their trajectory
Few landing in the same place
Some become embers, to be coaxed into flame
Some flare into wild creative cacophonies
Skimming an atmospheric shell, the sky bursts into atomic colors
Each light a seed of dreams
The cosmos remembers each atom
Few things live forever
Each end a beginning
Stardust remembers all
1/3/2014 – I just realized it’s been awhile since I sent a verse to the ‘Verse
a reflection is tomorrow based in now
yesterday a cornerstone
journey well should be the watchword
until the marker is planted there is only the path
fare thee well
RIP Shann Palmer – till we meet again
voids riddle the lace of life, residue of memories cling at the edges
basic essence lingers, rough early edges show
love/hate blurred in ever darkening dusk
heavy burden of care, a solitary endeavor met with filial rancor
duty binds the languishing seed to root in fallow soil
I walk, fettered by responsibilities and dreams, among the populace.
At first glance, I am lonely, sad.
I dream expansively, unwilling to accept obstacles.
I work tirelessly, understanding the weight of my responsibilities.
Years have sculpted me and filled my well with insight.
With great whimsy, time has given and taken.
Dreams evolved and devolved as cycles complete.
I meet each challenge with vigor, letting fear fuel my momentum.
I will be.
Fear me, dreams and goals cloak me in glorious raiment.
Fear me, discouragement is long since shredded in the wind.
Fear me, angels walk with me, devils cavort around me.
Fear me, I live.
Fear me, I die.
can I tell you?
no one else will heed
emotion run in torrents
will you listen?
jealousies, loves, and lies
dreams told, fears exposed
the burden weighty
tell me no more
powerful, placating, political, personal.
said in earnest.
said with insouciance.
pride stymies action.
conscience demands resolution.
realization equals forward momentum.
memories and actions purged.
the soul healed.
The seductive call taints the natural order.
Spirits, intoxicants – alter perception,
mundanity a distant memory.
Lesions of decay disguised by sly, glittering beauty.
Writhing, twining, seething,
the id liberated.
An elusive apex sought,
its jolt fleeting.
Shadow disguises the excess, dawn threatens the partakers.
Reality terminates the bacchanal.
Your candle burned bright,
right until the end.
Family ties bound us, confounded us,
filled our cups overflowing.
Time robbed us of a future,
your progeny bereft of your presence.
Memory, anger, grief, painted the landscape.
Only the remnants of moments remain,
jagged edges softened with the passing of time.
Damn you for passing early.
Love you for what you gave.
I miss you,
the ‘Good Scout’ until the end (CEG 1939-2001).
Experience drives me up,
touching the sky.
Hope launches me,
legs bent, next step.
Dreams add bouyancy,
stars within reach.
Time to start over.
etched with cracks, every breath breaches the core.
fissures shift, glimpses of universes lost.
pain incises slowly.
survival demanded, reality harsh.
jagged pieces litter the ground.
decay wafts toward the sky.
Enflame us, Calm us,
entice & offend.
Scar us, Heal us.
Thronged spaces, too jolly to bear.
Frenzied draw to sparkling novelty.
Good will and cheer, wadded fleetingly in moments.
Harmony eludes, while pressures rises.
Gifts lack, while hearts groan.
Rumination ruined in bustling furor.
The comfort of kin soothes all.
The crowning gift – heartsease.
dented, chipped, cracked
no dent unremarkable
every chip a badge
repaired or not, each crack evolutive
a life well utilized
thump, thumpity, thumpity, thump
flash – immobile – blurry
preying on doubts
weighing down hopes
no spiritual or physical panacea
new motto – maintain, rise and overcome
An end point, a breath.
A stitch that binds ideas.
Delineating a voice, a concept, the irony of it all.
Misplaced, the meaning misconstrued.
Time, space and the past,
marked by symbols that define.
Whipped through the air with gusty abandon.
Browns, reds and oranges blanket the verdancy.
Expectations, miscommunications, projection & rejection,
saturate the air with poisonous molecules.
The Victim, a fixed point, refusing to take accountability.
Constantly attacked by perceived & imaginary threats.
Professional martyrs grease the wheels of discord,
keeping fear and hatred alive.
Ever ungrateful, always in the right,
the unfortunate never understands why they are bereft.
Running with scissors, scampering from the future,
nightmares plot the course, dreams soothe the rough edges.
Very little has solidity, yet the way is fraught with implacability.
Right side up and upside down, sidewise and around.
Nothing really matters, everything impacts.
Cords of binding, contract.
energy rejuvenates & reveals the road ahead,
the way is fraught with perils and rewards.
yet the quest draws me forward.
dread chases me, hope lures me.
possibilities are exponential – triumph or failure,
both tantalize on the journey ahead.
Empty are the shelves, devoid of staples.
Draped only in the gossamer silk of the arachnid.
Futilely I search for sustenance.
Dust motes float lazily in the air.
The illusion of grace, a mummified breath,
unclaimed in the twilight.
trapped in the sticky web of expectation,
i dream of friendly kinship.
rancor fills the void, leaving no resolution.
i weep for the death of possibility,
steadfastly looking to the future
Curled toes cling to the edge,
vertigo swirls the world into a kaleidoscopic fugue.
Wavering, I cling to the old.
Endless opportunities entice yet terrify.
Avarice claws my soul, desire tempts me.
Buffeted on this precipice, I struggle.
The cost of risk?
The first step tells all.
hazy thoughts float on the river of my mind,
rising and sinking in a rhythm without time.
colors bleed into darkness, a descent into the void.
the current sweeps away the detritus of illusions.
dawn brings a cognizance lacking in the deep.
The chair isn’t quite right -
too big, too tall, too something.
fidgeting — antsy — squirming — jumpy
Maybe I’m too small for the space,
too short for the ride, or not defined yet.
An indefensible position – No
It’s not me, I’m just right – the chair must go!
a continuity rules the game
end to beginning – constructs are engaged
in a sea of alternatives
only the obverse is evident
determinations are quondam
i stand guardant – free
surrounded by the detritus of others judgments
my treasures radiating in the field of destruction
i scramble to salvage the rubble before me
is merit based in the eyes of those who judge
or in the inner eye of censure
I am the conductor of a symphony of secrets.
First, second and third chairs chosen with care for their complexity and depth.
Each section a different timbre and tempo.
I stand, the arcanum head, of seeming chaos.
Completely in my element of orphic grace.