On Being Scared

Stepping within the shadows of our curiosity

one man might settle

world around him suggest a normalcy

only this man without conscious

effort

cannot really untangle from his mind,

caught up in the doings

of his rotational reality.

~

Like a circus we might imagine our world

in a constant thrust of

soft display,

the reality is elsewhere

for now live upon the fiction,

I applaud you,

and appreciate you,

I’m grateful to be caught up in

nothing,

nothing, at all

rather.

~

Isn’t that it then,

are we so secluded in our lives

we haven’t taken the time

to know

anyone,

any one at all,

outside our own circle of deceit,

that quiet melody of a mundane existence

allows us to never have to think about ..

never think about …

think

never think.

~

Oh for lack of ever being afraid

would we laugh, oh the fuss we made.


© Thom Amundsen 9/2021

Saying Anything

In a moment alone

we in the present

widen our scope of judgment

lacking a dialogue

a helpful manner of speaking.

~

If heard on the other side of the room

having little direction

a construable offense

would be the second another

guest

spoke from the heart without any filter

none at all.

~

To undermine each other

would be in some circles

meant as a challenge

to better oneself,

to out duel the most tedious

exercise in humility,

little restraint would be necessary

to make an ass of the luxury

of having peace of mind.

~

When words become a monument

we need visualize

the climb,

each stone and rock and slide and flounder

would then reciprocate

some turnabout way

we might let our lives intermingle

meandering down some path

to a settling ground.

~

With only words the night would heavy

wait for opportunity to find silence.


© Thom Amundsen 9/2021

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

In This Quiet Space

Though patterns seem to exist

the idea of recreating the wheel

pops into mind

every breaking day.

How would lives become independent

with working the reality

of our dreams

aspirations.

How do we step away from routine,

the quiet horror of being

caught up in the mundane

the same old,

the victory just beyond our reach

sometimes unattainable.

In this our quiet space

can we speak to the place,

the origins of a value

that carries our hearts beyond

the simple pursuit we live.


© Thom Amundsen 9/2021

A Simpler Life

If life begins here the now is today

well there has to be another way

said the disgruntled fellow

standing in the gallows.

We choose to live the way we do

based upon values, me and you,

not that far away from everyone

seems somehow often over done.

Once in a midnight sky not so far

away, I felt my body to be at war.

With sudden gasp I exhaled my life

only to know a sedentary world is rife

with unpleasantries and negativity

all of the symptoms of inadequacy.

Speaking to a friend of mine tonight

I came to terms with just how I might

live out the rest of my days

in some more comfortable ways.

There isn’t a lot gained in crying

when reaching out without trying.


© Thom Amundsen  9/2021

Sedentary State of Mind

Walking home one afternoon,

I noticed she cared about my world.

She was always the center of

my attention,

a popular girl I was privileged

walking her home every afternoon,

climbing actual hills

winding paths

until our homes a block apart

appeared on the horizon,

indicating now my time

would wane

her goings to her world

mine to my own.

There was nothing sedentary in my world

when she might speak to my state of mind.


© Thom Amundsen  9/2021

First Days

There is a certain pull

a potential

a need to feel

that rotating wheel

of some significance

the quest, we guessed,

in first days

the moment of truth

perhaps

or better suggested

that moment when opportunity

strikes that initial fever pitch

~

Let’s hang on

gonna be a roller coaster

doesn’t mean you’ll fall off

just scare the hell out of you

scare the hell out of you,

unless

of course there’s always that

a choice, a recall, a desire,

passion

to keep those steps

moving forward on these, our

first days.


© Thom Amundsen 9/2021

Why Tears

Always on the edge of falling apart,

like gravel landscape a fluid motion,

kicking me to the side of the road.

~

What’s inside that needs to part

my frame of mind, this emotion

rules I’ve never really understood.

~

I wanted to just live in normalcy

always the listener without fear

Yet somehow anywhere I land …

~

It carries beyond my infancy

when we might expect a tear

now an edge always at hand

~

Seems we have our own reason

to know why, yet they’re hidden

to know why, yet they’re hidden.

~

I stood on the edge and looked for her

to know just why, yet you were hidden


© Thom Amundsen 9/2021