Finding One Door

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This matter of doors,

talked about in quiet rooms,

where two people, maybe four, three

could openly speak

closing doors, reasons why,

open doors, easily cry

for there is some certain avenue

allows us all to find our way,

if we choose to be

the person we might

want to

speak someday.

 

I remember a year ago,

saying I wished I might not live another day,

exhausted,

it was a similar hour of night,

this seemingly special occasion,

where I

the leader or the exhibit on display,

wanted nothing more

than to go away.

 

Yet here I am today,

celebrating some reason to explain

how it might I came to be,

this life,

this scrutiny

that only I control.

 

Oh I may allow others

have a hand

in my own dismay,

but it is in those darker

moments,

I can begin to

explain away,

the tragedy of my own

today.

 

I met someone once,

she touched my heart,

we spent hours into the twilight

talking about who or what our psychic meanings were.

I remember wanting only to

kiss her,

and yet so compelling was her ability

to sway the judgment of my play,

I listened,

and the hours flew by,

suddenly sunlight peeking through

her apartment drawn shades,

the two of us laying comfortably apart

together,

opened our eyes,

smiled,

suggested

what a day this will be

today.

 

So tonight,

just after midnight,

I look again into that open door, a space

just kind of waits,

and yet there are so many stories about

that man in the chair,

who looks like yesterday,

or maybe a little like his mom

whom as he weeps in

a sweet silence,

he imagines or hopes,

dreams on occasion,

if he did stand up,

and walk through,

there would be she,

and all of the questions

that have rocked his mind for over

half a century

might suddenly

come to life,

what some could easily pin upon

the afterlife

 

Yet why is that even as we try to blend

the pallet of our fantasy,

why do the same entrances tease our mind,

the darkness will always prevail

until that moment,

when trying to be,

might only become

the aftermath of

we in the some triggered response

to ending all of the confusion

that inherent blend of

mystery

the human condition.

 

Safe in my distance, I do imagine the other side,

and just wonder if a  picture will ever help me decide.

 

While Listening To Time

There it was,

again,

a reminder

seems steeping,

nearly scalding water,

the verses played on and on,

like droplets, an emotional victory,

my intuition lay so naked

surroundings familiar,

I played the violin

mindful song

again,

There it was

second

all it took,

a simple thought

I could travel then, away

for miles while a melody played

inside my heart a resonate

reminder of (her) a love

mindful splendor

now stay a

second.

There is when

soft

a single note,

a sudden urgency

a crying, mellow solace …

certainly the beauty in emotion

drawn by the keys of a piano, torn …

There it is,

then.

These Keys

wolves

In the woods, the wilderness evokes

a sound of rustling, twigs snapping, a breeze through leaves

that whisper a reality we cannot pretend away.

Instead we listen, we joy in the simple nature

of the forest in its pristine state,

always waiting, forever growing,

letting our lives appreciate its pure self.

This is a key to understanding our human nature.

When we leave the wood,

we return to today’s world in automation,

in electricity that which turns us on,

turns off when we need to disappear,

the engines whir in the hands of our own guidance

our responsibility,

we live by the sound of our activity,

This is a key to understanding our human nature.

I’m sitting down

I’m near tears without any reason why,

perhaps the music I’ve chosen,

possibly the state of mind I am in.

Been here before, felt it many times,

and on occasion chose a difficult path,

one that would eventually hurt my mind.

This is a key to understanding our human nature.

Why is it I can see through the forest,

I can understand how the world exists around me,

I know people adjust to one another,

while deep inside the wood, our nature is to imagine,

the wolves are waiting.

~

*picture found on tumblr

With Piano Keys I Muse

I wait for the right note,

a soft touch, distant tone,

perhaps a high sharp strike,

my heart breathes the resonance.

I am immediately drawn to a time,

a different place we speak,

when everything is bliss,

and the pain is no longer an option.

We are easily pleased in memory,

with the musical intercessions of our lives,

when traveling inside a melody,

reminds me of her, or them, or even you,

I am sweet with desire,

limited by time,

yet know I have realized your beauty,

is always in my heart,

forever safe in the mystique of knowing … love

The News

The rains came today
Amidst news of government shutdowns.
In a mid-town café
All the faces held practiced frowns,
Voices lingered,
High pitched with banters pledged
“Well I figured,”
Shouted a nearby man on the edge.

When the skies lit up
There wasn’t any discussion of reprieve.
I could reach for my cup
Of java while around the room a sieve,
A genuine distaste
Reactive politics by those thought elite.
Withheld ideals erased
While outside quiet rains began to isolate

See, there is beauty
When in and around me economics falter
Somehow I feel pity
A kind soul is caught in rains without shelter
In the morning
A burst of sunlight will endure the horizon
And while waking
Our society is left to once again find reason

Yet in the midst of cloudy judgment and scattered reigns
Might our heart and soul appreciate just the simple rains