A person could
over time
lose their mind.
Suppose that is the fear
when those calm
rather only speculate,
know everyone cares.
Afraid of certain words
might – over the edge
him,
(them),
her.
© Thom Amundsen. 11/2021
A person could
over time
lose their mind.
Suppose that is the fear
when those calm
rather only speculate,
know everyone cares.
Afraid of certain words
might – over the edge
him,
(them),
her.
© Thom Amundsen. 11/2021
It’s New York,
of course,
where lives do happen,
cross through Central Park,
onto 7th until we find ourselves,
sitting on a bench,
wondering where everyone is coming from,
hoping that we might find peace.
We keep looking in their eyes,
sometimes the notice is true,
others,
they walk by searching themselves
for some resting point,
a place they can call home.
He is that man alone in a world,
where everything exists,
and he’ll ride his bicycle all hours of the night,
because he can,
he can maneuver through the masses,
and always,
he can still eat his dinner alone.
She might be that woman living different roles,
walking through the park,
with a certain flair,
an attraction to the masses,
yet, in her mind,
no one really notices,
because she has felt alone.
I took the day off today
because I needed rest,
seems that has been a necessary event,
while the world continues to glow around me,
I center my eyes upon tears,
for it seems they are always near,
waiting for some answer,
a reason to suggest there is purpose,
even when nothing seems to matter,
only time continues to measure.
When that moment called me,
I stood before an audience,
Strangers all of them so cold,
the bitter icy winds of discontentment,
without notice walked away,
while my body wondered about time,
the descent, how far, how chilled, how quickly.
Then she became the moment,
amongst many beyond that walkway …
she is love.
Did you wonder if it was about then,
that time, when we,
well, while the world grew cynical
around our own lives.
Did you ever think
we might be as necessary
the cogs in the wheel,
as anyone else who symbolized
that same hypocrisy.
Would you walk with me,
just for a short while
so we might again wonder
if that was ever really that
special.
Many days,
the long stretch of an hour,
the time it takes to wonder why,
I do want to cry,
instead I’m told,
‘say good-bye’
and let memory take the place
of what is today’s reality.
It’s just,
there are times,
there are these wisps of my imagination
tell me bold,
what a lovely time you always were.
I still don’t know if you’ll ever read this
the same way you could read my eyes …
~
*photo found on Deviant Art
I didn’t, no.
I could believe it might go
a way my dreams, had
suggested so.
I would be reminded
when she could walk slow,
I’d be blinded
by anything beyond being so.
Autumn skies,
to add a sadness
while across the way,
she stood, she smiled, she danced,
without anyone needing her to know,
except me.
I was the one stood in the way,
leaned heavily against a fence,
I wanted to carry with me,
so perhaps another time,
I could count on the
separation,
being healthier than
now.
I would wait, my hope
a smile might permeate the strict
reality of my visual nightmare.
she would be,
there in the afternoon sunlight
away from me,
without knowing,
unless of course I wave,
I shouted,
please don’t leave me I love you.
she smiled.
yet my eyes would fail me,
when hoping her glance my way
would provide comfort.
I smiled and let her be.
I might be that person I thought I wanted to be
the one that would capture your attention,
the man who would become your king,
I remember the hours that would go by when I first
began to compose my serenade to you,
I could travel for miles listening to every note
that might remind me of a way to speak to you.
I wondered then why I needed so badly to know,
what reason had I beyond just simply being,
I wondered how it was I could maintain your love,
when really, I hadn’t held onto anything at all.
If ever I could I might return to that moment
when I gave you my first kiss, and watched you walk away.
Your jeans, with their special lines, so well designed.
How is it that moment remains and allows me to forget
all of the pain, the confusion, the inability to understand why.
I could no longer hold onto you anymore, I could see in your eyes,
you’d moved on, you were somewhere else, the bookshelf collapsed.
I should have known then when words spilled across the wood
your reaction was simply to gather them into a pile,
a task left for another day without any immediacy,
their matter had little value anymore beyond some moment
farther away, in a distant future, a breakfast encounter
that when he walked through the door, she then mentioned to me,
how shallow his appearance, how vague his meaning to be.
If ever I could, I might truly wander back in time, I might wish
to realize then that now it all seemed the ruse it truly was.
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.
I would walk barefoot as a child,
seeking something over there,
something unique on the other end,
didn’t matter the moisture,
stepping into creek waters,
slipping and skinning a knee,
while searching for that
something unique on the other end.
recall the glorious spring sunshine,
bouncing reflective waves in soils
driven by Nature’s progressive trail,
I would walk barefoot on the rocks
if I could remember today
what that unique something was,
in the creek bed on the other side.
I wonder if when I wear shoes,
if then, I lose the opportunity,
that Her grasp allows my skin to feel,
when walking towards that final reveal.
***
I went there last night,
back in the wood,
deep where no one if they could,
might realize the mood I was in,
so lost inside the dense wood,
of my mind.
Always is that place I begin
to understand just why
my heart, just how far my heart
has gone in its search for you.
The rocks always shift around,
I remember last year,
the path seemed clear,
I could see you off in the distance,
masked veils serene with eyes
like sweet velvet in the night sky,
bringing me there,
bringing me into your arms,
bringing me closer to home.
~
I went there last night,
hoping I might see you,
wishing you might be there,
in your surreal form
of distant memory,
comforting my hurting soul,
just a glance upon a visage,
I recognize your elegance,
when on the streets of reality,
so many distant souls pass my eyes,
reminding me there is value
in sweet memory along the trail.