Finding Words

When inside a cavern of loneliness

the sense of light

that beacon of direction

seems rather amiss.

The discovery of finding self

always out of reach

lost bathing near a sunrise

yet still tied in

feeling the rocks and dripping stone

maintain a hold

letting only this internal air be a guide.


We can talk ourselves out of

sharp crags, edges, finding security

in good footing

yet words seem to

fall short tossing

an avalanche of self-confidence,

continue to wade in the mire,

we wait upon an out.


Seems we will draw words

with our imagination,

yet diving in is our only recourse.


We need to recognize the possibility,

to search inside of ourselves

find a target

set our course and commit.

Words will only alone

run astray of a seeming peace.

© Thom Amundsen

Key Responsibility

It’s a morning

gray skies outside

sunlight is somewhere

last night’s thought

sifting into my world.

A mixed bag of

insolent treats.

If I choose to open them

I could follow a light


to take me somewhere.

Somewhere out of here.

Though then I realize

we, ourselves, are

responsible for the keys.


© Thom Amundsen 10/2021

Set Sail

Oh to be that stifling energy,

the sort we practice far too much,

the moment we question our integrity

we belong locked up and silenced such.

It is a confidence thing

helps find our path,

reach for really anything

and curb societal wrath.

Telling a story about satisfaction

take an effort to experience that

the ability to know a solution

to the human condition, that!

We all choose to walk alone

together, by our sides a fashion.

© Thom Amundsen 10/2021

In A Word

This could just happen

if in one word

if we look each other in the eye,

if for the sake of another day,

if when we feel … no answer.


In this word

we seem bound by the


isolate in its own

montage of distraction.


We are seeking that word

fulfills our heart

lights our soul,

it is one word

repeats itself after all.


On the road will

speak of dreams and fantasy,

staying alert in the white lines

of the avenue.

See that?


I wonder if in one word we could

find kindness, appreciate silence,


© Thom Amundsen 10/2021

A Dwelling Time

If wait,

a silent venture

no one else would matter

this state of mind.

Walk slow in the forest

feel the pristine nature

of natural life,

ours to feel fascination.

How will a

human being

fit into this scheme

wanting peace of mind.

WE take ourselves

inside deep caverns

while offering opinion

when lost inside.

Finding balance

clearly an aspiration

when found

offers a solace.

These are concrete steps

whose weather worn


holds strong a foundation.

For when we choose

live our lives

offer resolution

could our time resound.

© Thom Amundsen 10/2021

Words Employ

Though I wish

might words be employ,

to quite realize

would be to bore (the mind).

Finding a phrase

attaching to character

becomes imperative

under analysis.

Is it an attraction

sets the tone

for a positive reaction

to the world we’re bound.

The traffic of our soul

demands when about,

sacrifice and resolve

seems far reaching – we evolve.

When once he knew

the again that flew,

his ideas being sorted

questions again, by her.

Seems lost in a shuffle

this be, this inspiration.

© Thom Amundsen 10/2021

Mind Massage

It seems silly to imagine

being cut from the same mold

beautiful people

sadly forgotten.

Seems there might be a path,

we could all trek

trying to stay together

not losing sight.

When lost

a tendency to quake

remember all the somber

matrimony of being alike.

Though every little thing

probably matters,

in the end

a desire to only pretend

Live these lives together

suggest a mutual plan.

© Thom Amundsen 10/2021

Circus Fellow

This has always been a big show,

me and my life in the circus.

Bounce me around and pose me I know,

sells the tickets gets society to focus

on everything that matters. We compel

to want to know, to understand, to get

the meaning – how it is our lives gel.

How do we manage it all, before we forget?

Seems a tide can turn, a manipulated soul.

to manage the waters, angry caps overwhem

a sedate society not wanting interference, a tale

would be rather enjoyable, a departure, a telling.

If I were to buy a ticket and watch you perform

Would I be quite taken, charmed, tell me is the norm.