Lost Moments

In our lives we have many experiences

travails of innocence no one

has an answer to suggest an outcome

only hitch on,

grab a strand of burlap,

feel the dust build underneath our psyche

and ride on.

~

I’ve always enjoyed the horizon

seeing wheat fields flowing in an autumn breeze,

the fresh blossoms of a rainy morning aftermath,

often my favorite moments

caught in the rain

soaked to the bone

fresh soup and a warm fire

in the evening lull.

~

On occasion I recall that summer afternoon,

we walked in our usual path,

to a sort of ‘city’ glen above John Muir,

where there would be

an eventual opening in the brush,

we would lay there

act like a couple in love

no one’s eyes except our own.

~

This one time,

and this would be my definition of loss,

I would nap in that moment,

and did I in the afternoon sun

wake shortly there after

and she would be gone,

I would then stand only to notice her figure

meandering into the park,

having left this moment

behind.

~

I remember not knowing what to do,

far too distant would a shout of name

turn your head,

either distance or time

would cause her, might, continue forward

regardless.

~

That was the message going through my mind.

I hurried to try to catch up,

to not lose this moment.

~

We do eventually, in time find ourselves to be on course,

yet still could we already know some concept of remorse.


© Thom Amundsen 5/2021

3 AM

lights low,

what’s happening in here

no one might ever know.

The cast of a dozen stories

one day to the next,

perhaps a romance again.

Seems easy to dream

when the lover is alone

hopeful she might understand.

Its 3 am blues are alive

waiting alone to feel

some fatigue beyond the daily drain.

A couple of movies later

sleep still stays in seclusion

his mind a travel beyond the real.

Play some blues he asked

and let the melody

take his reacting mind away again.

It’s 3 am and he really doesn’t

care about the morning,

as long as the words speak

as I am.


© Thom Amundsen 4/2021

Wishful Knowledge

Those times told before

when once it happens

comes the sigh.

It’s that wish of only

‘getting it’

knowing we all had it.

Only now a reminder gave us

‘silent scolding’

telling our own selves

we ought know.

The end result

manifest in our own hearts

when asked again and in a long-awaited,

again.

In the beginning …


©️ Thom Amundsen 4/2021

– to k

A Certain Melody

I remember a time

traveling the highway

short ride to my exit

just off the city ramp,

~

So many occasions I thought

only of you

soft chords of a melody

when I listen tonight still …

~

Maybe it is the Beatles,

back then the Fab Four –

‘Back in the USSR’ meant little

beyond a lovely rhyme scheme

~

Tonight it has its own silent mystique,

a memory like 8th street after sunset.


©️ Thom Amundsen 4/2021

– for Karla

When Time Stands Still

Usually news, not just an epiphany,

perhaps a tragedy, friend nearby, makes us want to

have a long cry

when we, well

similar sounding sigh,

we, well, I cannot really describe the loss of

uniformity

while chaos rears its impulsivity upon the

normalcy of our lives.

~

Last night a dear friend told me news

her friend, one of a lovely circle

of women I have had the privilege of stories,

an endearment of souls traveling the years,

and they will band together,

they will search and plead and pray

for some new authenticity,

allows all of them to feel

together.

~

She is a very kind soul this dear friend of mine,

I can feel her ache,

she has memory of the sort

we all carry around with us to different degrees

of understanding loss and pain and confusion.

~

So let the world remind us all

when in the quiet silence of a sunlit morning,

we can stand still,

feel the permanence of our frame of mind,

when life seems so apparent

its penchant for reminding us all,

standing alone is no place to know,

only a landing upon where we sometimes fall.

~

Perhaps there is a gesture we only know so well,

a moment of peace, of love, when then hearts do swell.


© Thom Amundsen 4/2021

(for Cherri)

We took a walk together, a cool spring

would flow the night’s waves

lapping upon the evening shoreline

soothing our mind as if to suggest a pause.

An appreciation of stars aligning the sky

we might look forever not mattering

such is the cosmic phenomena

sweet, out of reach yet a dangle

of the mind, handling in the balance,

always guiding our soul so mellow to follow

our heart and know it might surely

belong in one another’s waiting arms.

There lay before us a stream would release

all the moments of indecision with only peace.


© Thom Amundsen 4/3/2021

If I Might Be This

I am slowly beginning to age,

a sort of catching up

where my youth did seem resilient

to a process of slowing down.

~

And yet am I ready

would be the question we might all wish

an answer

to find some distant resolution.

~

See the life of the average man,

always pining for more,

or perhaps never in a hurry

to help define their meaning.

~

I have a wonder in my life

a spirit being whose truth I rather

thrive upon to be near,

to every sunrise lets a setting moon.

~

If once I might have known peace

to feel in every fiber of my being,

would then I have found any relief,

to accommodate the peril of my mind.

~

Some might suggest the deepest chasm

of our psyche

is found a natural path to exile,

yet further away would be such a loss.

~

So words do land upon a state of mind,

a rational being might suggest

otherwise

to remain a fixture in their silent time.

~

I wonder about now in my forever quest

to know only ahead the hours before.


© Thom Amundsen 3/2021

Finding Solitude

When do I recognize I’ve had enough

after years of never really knowing how to decide,

what makes it worthwhile,

this it, this piece of our lives,

this need to demonstrate always

while this hollow reality aches inside.

~

When only the quaking fear of my psyche

takes over anything else,

whether it matters or whether it isn’t even real,

my mind will play with the moment,

and let me wallow in the shame

of never really understanding how easy life might be.

~

I chose to take a difficult route the day I became alone

within a crowd of thousands,

there I stood in the center of everything feeling

the wrath of my society bend its will,

in order to pummel my own confusion

with diatribe after diatribe of nonsensical air.

~

I wonder if I might ever really fathom

hours of lost time,

considerations that might leave others blind

with fury or madness or ill met resolve,

the burden of the human condition

never really being realized, floating askance.

~

It was in the dawn of my 25th year

when reality spoke only of its burden

and the charmed life,

the one just on the other side of the fence

would only chuckle the nearer I stood

knowing forever I would struggle to find me.


© Thom Amundsen 3/2021

Silent Refuge

I haven’t a simple out, this anxiety,

this setting,

a state of mind, soul-searching trauma

is our path

some diplomatic lunacy.

In truth

it hasn’t ever settled,

a decades long journey filled with

angst and trepidation.

Now when facing a greater

challenge

his body natural

will wish he curling into small

would be fetal posture.

For shields are down,

spears and spirits

would that life have meaning

beyond the edginess of a

double-edged sword.

Carry on good soldier

sadly never wore the stripes.

Last Night In Shadows

I waited outside criss crossed windows

anticipating her,

our lives together

like always, we were meant to be here.

She rounded the banister, bedtime linens flowing in the darkness

a light behind would shine her soul

such is the beauty of a woman in love in a twilight.

Her smile lit up the night,

this anticipation I watched her hands open locks

she would hold a key that meant,

yes, you do sweet reckoning my heart will stir.

I thought to myself in this quiet night

have I ever been, could I, is it possible,

this delightful moment is the first time I have experienced love.

I felt unsorted, like in a dream

all the significant moments of mystery might blend

until waking would I see her with me, next to me,

our hearts will intermingle now,

and as I do watch you rest so peacefully by my side,

I know in the immediacy,

I am your caregiver for life.

For while the world around us may continue to confuse,

we can in each other’s eyes know our truths leave others blind.


© Thom Amundsen 3/2021