a different life

Recently,

inside a fantasy

I was given something

not ever would I imagine.

 

Life doesn’t hold a

twist upon what we believe,

or chance

state of mind

might bury itself for years.

 

An orderly intimacy

drawn on paperwork eons ago,

the masters of a philosophy

in matrimony

created this our lives,

borne out of some necessity

let ourselves know love,

give our lives a moral code.

 

Raise children,

esteem values,

if in the midst of our growth,

if there is a mental breakdown,

an inability –

separate paths

seem distant in the wind.

 

A rain storm may have occasion

led to a questionable civility,

then it happens,

in the quiet of our own solace,

we do realize

yet seldom act upon,

a desire to return ourselves

to some identity forgotten

decades ago.

 

Though be thankful,

we have a grateful energy always

travels with our memory,

for we would not be the person we are today,

the longest path

is the one

where wisdom winds

upon the mind.


© Thom Amundsen 5/2020

Check Out Time

Have you ever,

bad day – attitude like a torrential rain storm,

not pretty just cold, damp, unrelenting,

unlike that one summer rain,

we walked around the lake,

feeling a mist was steady, warm, passionate

all of us soaked through our clothes,

everyone around in the same  state of mind,

waiting for their warming soup at home,

ah, lentil, chicken noodle, maybe some stew, too,

would make that day complete

feeling in love with the human condition

in her most revealing slate.

 

Though then thunder clouds

in their most frightening state,

suggestive

we might all know this

once

in our lives,

yet never wish upon anyone else

just learn to cope,

find your shelter,

ask forgiveness,

speak a new life,

imagine sunny horizons,

a positive outlook brings a smile

sullen solace suddenly serene.

 

Skies clear,

stars alight,

the moon again, my friend.


© Thom Amundsen 5/2020

Its Quiet Routine

Its

deafening balance is one to be reckoned,

the quiet inside a sallowed severance,

the act of dismissal,

the purity within timely terror

on life

on reason

on separation

on courage on and on and on and on

we go the circus of our lives.

 

Its

measure of circumstance

erupts in a vision,

perhaps it is a dream

the waking sun explodes upon

a memory,

washing away the moments

the solitude

the granted harmony

the swift

welcome left now to fester

a lost melody.

 

Its

cruel hysteric necessitates

a reminder why,

this slow eventuality,

years upon years,

giving days their own causal

sacrifice inside the solemn

nature of

a discord

a grief

a denial

a disbelief

a convincing declarative

demise.

 

When routine begins its own culture,

the words in mind could discern as tears.


© Thom Amundsen 3/2020

 

Always An Urgency

We talked about the human condition,

how certain tendency

would remain years later,

the same,

decades of programmed imagination,

falling into the same pattern

some unforgotten imprinting of our soul.

 

Yet tonight as I stand here

on the same ledge of forty years ago,

I wonder what really has changed,

oh there is the picture that I once did create

together not alone,

altered forever now

with only speculate conclusion.

 

Tonight I wonder of deception,

the loss of meaning,

the further resounding defeat of purpose,

when two people no matter

still become lost in their own travel,

having let go of the other

until just a glance inside the wake

of every cresting wave,

when then they do disappear

no longer seeing …


© Thom Amundsen 2/2020

Having A Cry

Just now,

in the quiet atmosphere,

where no one

might hear my sigh.

A silent recall

today a different time,

conversation and laughs,

and then a glance, a pause

when eyes purposely

met one another

again.

Quite evident is the changing focus,

something

exciting to us both.

 

I will remember you

a saying just out of the blue.

I will remember you

a vision, a different view.

 

Sometime we wonder,

what if,

when did,

no answers coming yet.

There will be those moments

when our lives

do recall the humor

held our lives together,

and then today in the sweet

reckoning of our reality,

we did glance,

we did look for

some solace

in a spectacular time.

 

I will remember you

a saying just out of the blue.

I will remember you

a vision, a different view.

 

Look at love said the obscure seer

who believed in harmony

look before a discord shook the enemy.

So it looks the way

we might imagine,

some purpose,

a reliance

on know

we will live upon our dreams,

share our fortunes

without any monetary

illusion.

 

I will remember you

a saying just out of the blue.

I will remember you

a vision, a different view.


© Thom Amundsen 2019

Fearing The Worst

I remember the dreams, the constant reminders

a continual tease, a surreal world of sidewinders

 

Each one with a story, a parallel universe

would try to shake me, send me in reverse.

 

I could never tell if a person real or imagined,

it was a nightmare the bottom was assigned.

 

Otherwise the lofty airs of fascination

always relied waking realization

 

Just a dream, perhaps a reminder

only the illusion of the constant sidewinder

 

drawing imagined color scheme on the surface,

so the internal player would always save face.

 

Walking slow inside a familiar nearby memory,

I might choose to leap, try to escape this quandary.


© Thom Amundsen 2019

The Edge of Reason

What stake have we in righteous turbulence,

perhaps is reason to submit, suggest,

offer and consider, compassion

might allow a progressive response

yet allowance of circumstance,

that told responsibility

a valuable lesson.

 

In night air came a perpetual fire

taunted by winds, a breeze

so is a prevalent sky,

leading our lives into the storm

central to our being.

We spoke upon the a rail rise,

the L train, C, the longest nights

where time is not allowed

a sleeping giant

long after the last stop.

 

Yet further on

in the return home

spoke an entanglement,

on the threshold of a dream,

this reality

knock incessant patterns,

this discord

reveal a fantasy

rather beyond the norm.

 

When all else does bury logic

this value will settle cryptic.


© Thom Amundsen 2019

Two Would Pass Together

(dedicated to the goodness of time, a friend and his family)

When in a moment we might reflect

upon the reason,

we could together share a memory,

the fleeting laughter,

we would do this together,

wouldn’t we create a scene,

a wonderful attribute,

of the years,

oh the many years,

the travels we knew

without ever having to leave our home.

 

In a sort of magical day dream,

we crossed so many paths as one,

and now today,

they celebrate a journey

oh for the love of our children

we do,

we will always,

we did for the span of a lifetime

hope and pray,

we might somehow find His way,

some way decide upon a natural course

of our lives

we would find

sweet serenity,

a mysterious energy,

one with love,

a compassion

we might give freely …

cherish the beauty of time.

 

For it is today,

we now togeteher

cross the sky

with a specacular

sunrise,

a setting moon,

in each adventure,

I might in the arctic

winter

share love as a soul mate

might find again,

discover the truth

was always within our dreams.

 

Peace be with the onlookers

for their journey just begun.

Love – for my wife

love

jim dine – love

 

Follow me

to everywhere

for my experience is

alone

lacking substance

if I could share all that is good

in your eyes

with every new horizon

setting sun

distant moon that shines upon

our natural being

then

we might continue as

together

share love’s bounty

spiritual Grace belongs

to hear-felt surreal

beauty

that is you

love

Speaking of Language

I know that when I looked at you,

a new interpretation of purpose popped into mind.

I suppose it was the color of your hair,

the manner by which you tilted your head,

how the afternoon sun might light up your eyes.

I wondered about our lives,

where we are,

how soon we can come to realize,

everyone crosses paths with that notion of

satisfying their own definition of ambience.

~

Listen to the beat as we travel together,

sweep across the tiles,

our feet in unison, our bodies melting

to the rhythm of a Latino cadence,

such that gives our soul the freedom to fly.

~

A novelty is the delight when found in sync

we desire the same,

recognize the brilliance of admiration,

knowing ours is one we share,

contains the many years of hope and desire,

that compassion that the first time I saw you,

the sunlight suggested I do love you.