What Vibe is This

There in the moment again,

I felt free,

a sweet elixir of hope dripped from my lips

the very place my demons

would speak

unnatural terrors of their desire for harm.

Oh my mind would carry,

a lesson of time so under wrapped with worry

a fuselage of disdain.

It is YOU I would say

and no one remained in the room,

but over there,

remember then just where

beyond the moment

we’d already begun to encounter,

though some, well one

would wait out the eventuality

of life unresolved and driven

by the pity

of voice.


© Thom Amundsen 9/2021

Because It Never Is Real

Until the weeping eyes are visible

we can’t really know the pain,

when everything seems possible,

instead we lose our train

of thought,

so frought

we fought,

when ought

either one of us might instead,

recognize there is no realistic

time on love that wasn’t wasted

because we’d rather be frantic.

this security

a certain witty

banter is shitty

when only pretty

memories seem our last resort

because it never is real

our lasting hoping is out of sort

because it never is real,

until one day its all gone and we think it a pity

this casting shadow of hope’s lost serendipity.

this casting shadow of hope’s lost serendipity

this casting shadow of …

hope’s lost serendipity.


© Thom Amundsen 8/2021

The Lives We Lead

I turned a corner the other day, received some applause.

Remember imagining there was not anything in our way

when now we give in to our ideals, this harmonic pause

we could only stand alone remembering, day after day.

~

There was a dance floor in town where everybody showed

their moves, their needs, their wants, their satisfying eyes

it was there on Saturday nights when everybody glowed

yet there we were dancing, quieting our fear in disguise.

~

When did we become what our parents all might dream

that someday our hearts would carry a soul in our hands

When did we become what our parents all might dream

For it is always true we live out the memory love demands

~

It is hard to trace the steps, the Jitterbug we all remember

an onset of adult life motions, we created dance together.


© Thom Amundsen 8/2021

He Stood On Memory

Can you sing me a song like they do on the radio?

the kind leaves the kids smiling in their beds.

Can you sing me a song like they do on the radio?

The kind leaves the kids smiling in their beds.

~

I remember when I was only a child in the summertime

listening to the old top 40’s and the detective shows

there still seemed to be some room for the sublime

nature of humanity with compassion for all of those.

~

We listened to the radio, watched mama by our bedside

singing songs, writing love stories, giving kisses

always knowing dad was nearby with cigar as a side

creating novelty in normalcy while society misses.

~

I was asking God one night, late with a full moon outside

could it be real that we have a reason to be in here

this seemingly large crystal ball of wonderment untried

Are we all part of a whole we cannot forever adhere?

~

Can you sing me a song like they do on the radio?

the kind leaves the kids smiling in their beds.

Can you sing me a song like they do on the radio?

The kind leaves the kids smiling in their beds.

~

Well isn’t it memory then screams our name in the twilight

Isn’t a full moon some reminder or a mystique in the night.


© Thom Amundsen 8/2021

Once Did Love

Spoke to him the idle man

now sits alone a bar stool

seems becomes his friend.

All the others know the fool.

~

Once inside were a sweet dream,

a violin concerto plays his memory

soft her smile, serene did seem

a minute, together a forever melody.

~

If only then had he known today

might she have weathered the storm

ahead sensing his unraveling way.

Without explanation he lost form.

~

With no one looking the fool might cry

For then more simply it is a time to die.


©️ 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

The Perils of a Run

I think I watched her run for years. It was not the sort of get away to which people become accustomed. She is someone that pushes life at a rapid rate. She is a person who believes this in a most ardent manner, that we need be strong, always. This persona attracted me to her when we were young adults.

So one day after years of imagining I asked if I might go for a run. She graciously invited me into her world for an exploration of who we might be at this stage of our lives. I felt like I was always trying to catch up, but happily so, I wouldn’t choose it any other way.

When I first began the run I tried to look composed and be as natural in form as she. She was so ahead of the game, I felt honored that she would even give me the time of day. She taught me quite a lot in those early weeks of our run. How to dress, how to live my life in a manner that looked and appeared put together, a reality I had let go of decades earlier. I grew to rely upon her judgment every step of the way. I trusted her skills.

In a short time we were stride for stride covering a lot of ground and our pace quickened with every step. I remember several occasions catching each other’s eyes with a little shock of our speed, realizing gradually we might trip if we didn’t stay focused upon the terrain ahead. As life would have it there are always trails and paths of uneven grade and mastering these levels is part of the beauty of challenging nature’s course together.

We discovered a new balance in our lives that seemed invigorating and we remarked at how wonderful this run had become supporting one another throughout each new journey ahead. We moved so fast though that one day rather than one another’s eyes we looked too closely into the sun, and our vision blinded, steps became unsure. We began to analyze the other side of our run, where in the beginning we loved to expound upon the balance, leaving confusion and insecurity behind. Naturally as life would have it, we became self-aware of recognizing adversity in the knees, the joints and muscles that need tendering in any enduring challenge. The body, can be consumed in a good run, but the mind might handle only so much.

I remember the time I sort of stutter stepped and glanced my hand upon her shoulder for balance, throwing off her cadence and my own. She regained her rhythm and I now fell behind a bit, but she stayed close allowing me to find again my composure. My energy gave her a smile and we immediately thought about the idiosyncratic nature of life and how sudden movement even on a forest path might give our bodies pause, a desire to catch up. I often wonder if I had noticed with more clarity early on what remains vivid in my mind today. I didn’t have to be stride for stride. I could have eased back providing her some space on the road to carry on her will. Such understanding might have kept us both running toward a beautiful horizon that lay ahead.

I stumbled again. This time I reached out with both hands landing on her shoulders hoping to maintain my stride, but letting my foot step upon hers and in a sudden tangle our bodies intertwined, we tumbled upon the soft mossy terrain of a country path. We rolled apart and looked for one another’s eyes, and now too much fear had enveloped us both and we glanced askance of one another trying to figure out how to start again. We decided to wait until the next day.

Increasingly, as we tried to continue our runs, the equilibrium began to slowly break apart, and my reliance upon her grew more and more, and I could see her body language wanting to create separation allowing her the freedom to run again. I was slowing her down, and instead of seeing that, I could feel my own strength overcompensate and with each stride I would suffocate her own motion, until one afternoon exasperated she stopped and turned and looked my way. Her eyes told me she couldn’t run with me anymore, the serenity was being shattered by my own insecurities. I had forgotten long ago the beauty of a run on a gorgeous summer evening and instead began to focus upon the grace of her own understanding. Little did I know then, that now when I find myself sprinting down a pathway, she is nowhere to be found because I forced her to carve out a new trail.

I’ve been running now for some time on my own, and though the balance is there the equilibrium will always lack the beauty of sharing a stretch of nature with the one we love. Instead we try to move forward and find a reasonable gait allows us to keep the run despite constant reminders of once sharing the trail, the path together.

Perhaps serendipity does exist in the miles ahead, yet one thing is for sure – we can’t force ourselves into another’s space. We will trip and feel the perils of a missed opportunity.


© Thom Amundsen 8/2021

The Library

Here’s a song* I wrote for a dear friend – I’m sharing the lyrics with my readers:

~

I remember a special reminder

now you’re walking away from me

I was there on that library corner

we had eyes for each other didn’t we.

~

Many years pass and then we’re together

holding hands, we’re laughing again.

I remember a special reminder,

my laughter felt real back then.

~

You remind me of a time so lovely

your sweet elegance is what makes it happen

Any man would feel loved in your eyes

I know because – that was my when

~

I stand now alone in a wander

hoping somehow, someday you might see.

My heart aches, my soul wants to wonder

Someday, somehow we find our sea.

~

I remember a special reminder

now you’re walking away from me.

I was there on that library corner

we had eyes for each other didn’t we.

~

Hoping somehow, someday you might see,

could we someday find our sea.


© Thom Amundsen 7/2021

*I attended a song-writing camp last week that might have changed the direction of my life. I’ve wanted to translate my poetry into song for years, and I tasted that at this workshop. Now I have to learn how to play the guitar!

In the actual recording I am borrowing completely from Tom Petty’s instrumental genius on the acoustic guitar.

Last Spoken

When while every moment of life speaks

with the echo of nature,

some choose a concrete sentiment.

Is it possible to know last words

perhaps spill similar sound.

~

I wanted to say every moment meant

the exact opposite of what remains,

yet, the words, the voice, our own

struggle to be the immediate in

what we might believe,

would not allow any reveal,

we did, I did, squandered away

such is this momentum to relive.

~

Now will be a slow silence,

forever quiet with resolve …

ambling, fading into the summer sky,

when a melody speaks aloud

its strength is less,

like some lost memory we

no longer find to be anything

ever so important as it once

maybe one time held before.

~

I could not be capable of compassion

if meaning were a facade in my mind.


© Thom Amundsen 7/2021