All These Voices

Thoughtful serenades fill an empty room

no one looking just the me and mine.

He wonders if it is always such gloom

or are we left without our favorite wine.

~

Seems the cadence of our party restrained

by motive, by aspiration, by silent neglect.

When race horses begin, know what is gained

yet miss a step and it is a horror so perfect.

~

Want to tell all the voices to leave my head alone

I can’t stand to hear the constant berated tone

I can’t stand to hear the constant berated tone

can’t stand the berated tone.

~

The next time he stood alone at the precipice

He wished some sort of respite from his world.

Everything he had seemed suddenly at risk

He thought again and then his mind he twirled.

~

can’t stand the berated tone

out of my head haunting clone

out of my head haunting clone


© Thom Amundsen 9/2021

Spontaneity In Crisis

Well it’s the tears really,

come out of nowhere,

set me in stone clearly

don’t want to live there.

~

Watching a television show

a melodramatic morning

in any mundane episode I go

tearing up and mourning.

~

Tearing up and mourning,

haven’t any idea what it might

mean, why it is this warning,

get my act together before night

~

fall, this constant departure

this need to somehow navigate.

My emotions are raw for sure

I wish I might sometimes relate.

~

Motives and opportunities

pass me by not out of reach

my own sadly, feigned scrutinies

are nothing the world will teach.

~

Have to find a way out of this dream.

Have to find a way out of this dream.

Spontaneity holds so much promise,

Have to find a way out of this dream.


© Thom Amundsen 9/2021

Texting My Death

I have found parallels these days

the manner by which I find

I need to compose myself some way

in the matter of letters that bind.

~

Seems every time I have a thought

triggers in my head will alarm

oh wait screams my mind so frought

with anxiety, now I fuel the storm.

~

If only the keyboard didn’t scream

Get on top of me and dream

If only the keyboard didn’t scream

Life would be simpler it would seem.

~

Since texting has killed my identity

I can’t fight this overwhelming fear,

this strive to lessen my scrutiny

would draw the darker side of me near.

~

If only the keyboard wouldn’t scream,

I might return to life in a sweet dream.


©️ Thom Amundsen 8/2021

Whom Would Choose

if in a quiet corner of her room

all of her pain revealed

would it matter little personal doom

holds back what is sealed.

~

She rose above the scrutiny

a measure of confidence

silent resolve speaks dignity

all others a spoken chance

~

She wished her life could remind

what purpose a challenge

a reason for losing dramatic bind

sort through all, rearrange.

~

She reclines with truth in her chair

a peaceful sweet posterior

should that any man might dare

in curiosity her own interior.

~

We live by design our own release

for this a measure is granting peace


© Thom Amundsen 8/2021

To Find My Soul

Often as the wind might change direction

so does my heart begin its own journey

to find my soul, to search for absolution

from the scariest parts of my, my disarray.

~

Oh to know the beast of my own conclusive

nature toward wanting only a defeated psyche.

One could easily describe such is my missive

designed to incorporate my own quiet psyche.

~

It is that machine he spoke of once in a movie

we all move the same because it is what we are

told ought be our direction without any scrutiny

on motive alone, designed to have gone too far.

~

I watched you dance one evening without any step

just a casual saunter around your own countertop.

Remember later when we remarked upon feeling kept

alive, sweet serenade the shuffle of fantasy in a mop.

~

Yes, we are as common as the world might ever allow,

no special guidelines, only kindness in a compassionate

surround of affectionate desire and sensuality and how.

We did begin a wonderful journey together a silent state.

~

So now in the public eye seems some loss of what might enhance

the beauty of two lovers who once in awhile chose to take a chance.


© Thom Amundsen 8/2021

-for kk

Relentless Passion

In hers a quiet world would she live

Each morning routine an evening of peace.

Sunrise walks with only love to give

a family, her children, her silent release.

~

His would be a need for truth in her

struggle to be she asked, a simple life

Not this constant caressing a trigger

shoot holes in her wall, cut like a knife.

~

She would her bootstraps always taut

a world of indifference, a learned trait,

one person is love, another still taught,

feel respect, to watch, might she create.

~

His was soon to be a battle in his mind

hers a simple ask me to live alone

causing him to feel this constant bind

to know quick, dynamics already known.

~

Would she, could she, soon enough relent

His own idealism she wanted to prevent.


©️ Thom Amundsen 7/2021

Wants and Needs

So much do I, but then it sems

and then they always tell me that,

what other reason could there be,

beyond the normalcy of our lives.

I was walking toward the exit one day,

no one behind or ahead of me,

could just as well have disappeared

and then I realized it doesn’t matter where,

someone will realize why, wonder why, ask

well just why this had to be so lasting,

what could possibly step in the way of our lives,

to be so traumatic, so self disciplined to suggest

this is my way,

and no matter how late I am to the game,

my playbook is all I have left to work with

and, and, end,

well the combination works in my head.


© Thom Amundsen 6/2021


 

A Week In The Forest

To leave it all behind,

pitched a tent near the water’s edge,

a place I would often fantasize

to be a stopping ground

the pain and fear of having to survive,

suddenly wrapped in the cool depths.

~

I looked around for no one,

only the animals in the deep wood,

wondering what creature I would be

to steal their space for a few days.

not knowing the sunlight and stars

would be my only way of remembering

I was borrowing their land

for a time.

~

I’m not going to talk much anymore,

I made a vow with myself

alone in the woods I set up a chair,

I could watch the lake for hours,

me and the woods,

and the silence except for nature,

the rustling of the brush,

singing cherubs in the trees

all seemed to be communicating with each other,

a head’s up about the guy,

in the chair.

~

I could easily make choices

in such a serene wood and fallen limb world,

just me and the world

that no one could see without some …

search party,

the ones that would find the reality

of a tired turn in the mind of a

traveler.

~

I was that journeyman if only for a day,

and then the next I returned to the concrete.


© Thom Amundsen 6/2021

Three Lives

If we could shape our world

those lives we

learned we might,

imagined we could,

promised we would

all three blends of a sensuality

cascading our mind like a summer rain

sweet, scented, soaking serendipity.

Three lives

if we could shape desire and promise

might we all understand

we can overwhelm

the mystique … our human mind.


©️ Thom Amundsen 6/2021