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

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

Woman Is Wisdom

© Allen Parseghian Photography

For is it woman who might fly

if not his grasp

slipping

beyond her own swift

reckoning

is it man rude in permanence

would slender

such is elegance what

we might wish

could he release


© Thom Amundsen 7/2021

© Allen Parseghian Photography

We May a Soft Dance

Oh as the melody would

our lives in the balance

so envious

could I be, she, him, her as well,

all of us together

internally a maze of

authenticity

for the stars align,

while magic is a mystery

imagine

this is our legacy

to be two people, three,

maybe more who all believe

the other,

someone outside ourselves

could hold truth

in such is a natural

rhythm

might discover

love.


© Thom Amundsen 1/2021

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.

On Montmartre Stairs

Circle

Photo of The Day

( I do hope this fits with the figurative notion of ‘circles’)

A rainy afternoon,

we would cry together today,

svelte hands and wrought iron rails,

steps that concrete shavings felt right,

we did smile as with our turn we might catch eyes,

if not this turn, the next twirl I could find you there,

we dashed to the doorway, the rains were heavy,

in there our embrace becomes a mix of delicious love,

peek out, see the misty rain, the street below,

we own the moment, let’s dance to our center.

~

On an august evening the steps were trampled by

strangers in the night who would pass our memory,

we could always recall that kiss by the oak,

the quiet night, where a luminous magic

began our journey together – we did walk

until we could under the lampost

remember our night together,

long before the business of life forgot their way.

*photo: Allen Parseghian Photography

I Still Cannot Dance

Throughout my life I’ve tried a rhythm

yet followed I am by a worry of them

that soulful populace happy to dance

while for me if I do, its taking chance.

~

So often is the energy round in motion

while clever facades pretend emotion

speak to me sated with journeyed love

give my desire a sign from above.

~

Tonight, tomorrow, every single day

I rise to an occasional tedious way,

yet too often are my smiles new haunts

nobody knows, no-one certainly wants

~

A day in the life of a worn out soul

fragmented floating parts of a whole

Brought Together

In an international fire

she burns the minds

an electrifying voice

to the people

to the women

to the girls

brought together

~

To be just that

girls

women

people

in a global fire

an energy

brought together.

~

She would lead

with an entourage

all sleek in eye

move with us

say legs and arms

flail in a rhythm

brought together

~

A global fire tonight,

I watched the admiration

the people speak

in a fashion so alive

all of us can cry

she lets us believe

Beyonce together.

~

Global Citizen Festival.

When We Dance

We choose to release,

we walk together, alone

with eyes perhaps our own,

we wish only to dance.

~

when I stumble it is

because

I want so badly to learn,

yet in the throes of

letting go,

so often

I find I can

live  another way,

without the restraint

of not settling

for that circus

that society bleeds –

expectation.

Suggest to me

a new cadence

for then I might,

be on the front

line

the starting point

rather than always

needing to learn the steps

a little later on.

I would

I could, I would, I should,

I

decidedly want to

be

able

to

walk inside

a dream

and twirl, as it were,

like her majestic stallion

of prurient nature.