Tag Archives: eyes

Wanting Relief

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Last night I listened to the winds howl in melody

seems they were speaking, warning of a parody.

So quickly our lives, my own, grooves self importance

wanting only to observe, less patience more chance.

 

I speak in my head a constant life of simple romance

that sort that would suggest our lives live in a trance.

The famous writers who could travel in love’s pain

a prowess with words, retelling always the reader’s gain.

 

I wondered how long it might be in this state I remain

whereby my actions would prevent me feeling the rain.

Where simply do we go when the winds to pull us under

An impossibility, our minds will not be want of wander.

 

Last night I listened to the winds howl their melody,

A certain peace is Her vibrant reminder the ready.

© Thom Amundsen 4/2020

Wausau 1979

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Try to imagine

where it was,

the moment

inside a memory,

what did the breeze feel like,

certainly there was one,

the glen inside a cove

surrounded in maples and pine,

and short shrifts of sumac

pine needles all across the forest wood

where we as children climbed

only the same tree,

familiar branches,

I sat there last year

he said to her,

as she wondered if or when he might

try to

kiss her

under the oak,

the childhood symbol of growing up,

at least,

understanding that

decades later,

the memory of which

might be less profound

than the immediacy of a heart racing

illusion

of

love,

in the eyes of two thirteen year old children,

holding hands on a public street,

smiles and backpacks and

acne and eyes that searched only for

each other

because

that is what we had been told

that is what we had been told,

is the meaning of love,

in a quiet midwestern town,

where concrete

could easily confuse

the very natural ground

we laid upon years later

with a lover

and smitten eyes.

© Thom Amundsen 2019

Once, In Sunlight

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We did

in quiet observation,

attend of course

the eyes

windows that speak

well beyond the notice

of a fashion,

of a trend,

of an expectation.

 

Instead, just a glance

where both pain and joy

can reside,

can wait for the next opportunity

to speak aloud

in the framework

of sweet silence.

 

We are that coincidence

when two people

encounter one another

on a summer’s day,

in the heat,

the passionate embrace

of a spectacular

sunrise.

 

We look for the eyes

accentuate the why

© Thom Amundsen 2019

‘Slowly Melting Snowy Vistas’

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IMG_1073

An idea,

a visual reminder

to help find footing

rather than wallow

in what might feel lost,

our lives precious,

imagine only

nature is a cycle

eternal while forever.

 

Once while in wonder

reminded by favor

a slow descent in time

while all around

lives experience

a monotony of time

wishing purpose

witness a warming

allows our lives

to know change

always a measure

the melting horizon

might we seek

a cleansing challenge.

 

When the dial

shall evolve

daylight turns to

a mysterious shroud

where our eyes

opaque shadows

awaits our return

only to discover

with the rising sun

earth has begun

a new journey

again, spectacular

beyond occasion

this is our next day,

a blossoming spring.

 

Purposeful vistas

do slip away,

only to offer

sweet reminders

how along the way

our lives interact

in as magical way

might the landscape

of this mortality

give reason we

can know

the familiar

as well

as confusion

in a continuum

we have not

lost our way.

 

 

On White Privilege

Posted by thom amundsen on

I was pissed today,

they didn’t get it,

instead, they threw it away,

opportunity,

look around the room,

everyone has a set of eyes,

focus on the corneas, nothing else,

notice the tear ducts,

they exist,

Everything else is added baggage,

meant to confuse and display,

every wonder why?

The eyes?

I stood outside in the rain,

a natural cleanse,

when I opened my windows later in the day,

I could see clearly again, another setting sun.

While Eyes Remain

Posted by thom amundsen on

Shapes and sizes, designs

alter the world around us

give us all indicative signs

decaying lives incredulous

~

While eyes remain the key

Sheltered in shadows we see

~

A cosmetic journey it becomes

wardrobed fashion and trend

we all know how love succumbs

pretty lives in highlights defend

~

While eyes remain the key

Sheltered in shadows we see

~

Kiss the sunlight in olive

tones while our summertime

blues come crashing, we live

inside a day, perpetual climb.

~

While eyes remain the key

Sheltered in shadows we see

~

Lines begin to travel an unwind

across our bodies we see age

in all of its glory there to remind

us today is now our surreal sage.

~

While eyes remain the key

Sheltered in shadows we see

~

I walked alone inside a crowd

of onlooker seeking resolve

with how to still inspire proud

recollection of life’s absolve.

~

While eyes remain the key

Sheltered in shadows we see

~

Standing close you held hand

so while the sunlight blind me

I could once glance in the sand

in same young eyes, I could see.

~

Sheltered sweet soul we release

While eyes in love we find peace

Barring Silence

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Much like I was frozen in time,

they stood around me in droves,

laughter and looks,

the latest moments in their lives,

my heart rate pounding, I only remain still,

waiting for a moment, yet having no idea why,

-thoughtful disassociation-

further inside the depth of my fear,

a comfort zone began to evolve,

in my own skin, breathing fire,

the voice internalized anxiety,

I need something, somehow, a distraction,

~

When it happens,

there really is little explanation,

a noticeable shift in the societal climate,

eyes dancing elsewhere,

I grab my book, and toss out of the joint without looking back.

(inspired by a writer’s own passage on public anxiety)

Stranger’s Friends

Posted by thom amundsen on
Raymond Brossard

Raymond Brossard

We waltz throughout natural rendezvous

Untethered energy allays patterned view.

Look me in the eye, do you reconcile,

We might share humanity, peace, awhile.

~

Walk past the shelter, encounter, a chance

candid when shared, a friendly glance

might in immediacy become a threat

little regard for sordid reality’s vet.

~

Common ground when once ago passion fall,

idle hands will reach, quiet, soothe the pall

of strange reckoning, a mindset ideal

to knowing, to loving, a timestamp seal.

~

For when we do imagine calm release,

Perhaps we encounter another’s peace.

~

Painting – Raymond Brossard

I Wonder About Time

Posted by thom amundsen on

I mean in years your eyes haven’t changed

oh there’s the brow, the lines of endearment,

but the vision, the deep soul of passion,

that’s what I want to continue to see,

I could go forever without being near you,

yet suddenly in the dash of a moment,

your eyes,

their spiritual ambience, their need to remain real,

their pockets that hold your tears,

why I can’t imagine any reality of the human condition

to be more beautiful,

a quiet innocence that continues to grow

will always provide some vision of delight

when you smile.

County Fairs and Conversations

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Everyone there,

all of the local talent

stepping toward, around, nearby

each other,

even her while he noticed,

and they wondered about him,

each one wanting to know the other,

yet all of them imagining each other,

all together,

standing on bales of hay,

with hellos, sharp tongue,

until later in the night,

began their quiet withdrawal.

Yet no one is walking away,

everyone remains,

just the state of mind,

that disposition that began the day,

earlier notions that created a shell,

slowly began to make its way,

to another region of the park,

as the rides began to slow,

the crowds would disperse,

and finally the lights

on the ring to heaven,

slowly blinked to midnight.

There was that withdrawal,

if we could have just capped

everyone’s state of mind,

just for that instance,

when everyone smiled,

if then,

what might

today be like,

again.