At What Cost

When does society step in

a personal plea

to live our lives within

a desire to be free.

We all feel this burden

one day to the next

depends upon the stairs ahead and

whether we climb in context.

We all suspend our actions

when faced with a confusion

how possible is traction

when lost without a solution.

Stand on the edge

feel the fresh air

a certain metaphorical ledge

holds pattern with our flair.

We’re all the same you and me,

though some are seemingly free.

© Thom Amundsen 11/2021

I Cannot Move

I try


my energy propels me to a different place,

a satisfying luxury,

less common than I’d like to be,

yet it always happen,

the current,

the arms and hands and legs and

the talons

always seem to covet me,

without asking I might suggest, maintain, incite,

a certain flavor of dependency,

speaks to my purpose,

and it’s there I begin to play with


I wonder sometimes,

if it would be that easy,

lose my mind, become homeless, live in a street,

I wonder if I would worry quite as much as I do today,

when it seems I walk right past

the mirror.

Hiding From My Tormentor

I won’t allow you inside tonight,

keep you just at bay,

stay away from me you’re a fright

always getting in my way.


I remember the first time you spoke,

the words spilled out in chaos

a defensive burden, a speechless choke

the alarm of knowing my loss.


You took away everything I loved so far

in a life short yet incomplete

I didn’t understand you were my czar

to help me define my defeat.


I want this, I need this, I screamed inside,

with an external facade of grief,

To those I loved I continued, I would deride

for their inane illogical idyllic belief.


I was especially unhappy when defined

my world was wrapped deep within

a lifestyle I’d discovered far less refined

than certain peace you’d suggest a given.


I became dependent upon your own scrutiny,

that habitual creation of shattered will

my life wallowed slow toward certain insanity

while artificial stimulants would be my fill.


The crash and burn of a societal taboo

wandered into my livelihood.

Soon there began a surge of hiss and boo,

a spiritual gift is hope that I could


achieve new levels of sanity that remained

nearby if I chose, I had to believe

every aspect of relief and peace now gained

became a fuel to your loss; I still grieve


only in fantasy, only in the reality of dreams

can you ever master addiction, return it seems.

Knowing Love

While walking through the settled earth,

we would wonder,

slow steps,

havoc handling heaven-sent harmony.


While I was out the other night,

i hadn’t realized my life had changed,



Happened to me once before,

well, once or twice before

the reckoning.


We all need to have a few,

before we find our way.

That real world scenario,

stops me in my tracks,

has me wonder about just what,

when did my life take this turn,

that one that everyone else can see,

but me deep inside,

I always fail to know,

until I am being told.


I suppose I like being told,

I like having a direction offered to me,

even in the worst scenario,


I still rather enjoy being the leader of the knowing path,

that led me here,

led us all here some time ago,

and ever since that day.


We keep knowing,

just really deep down when everyone has walked away,

we keep knowing love.