Thinking the Essence of Man

Who are we

he said

over a beer with a friend,

troubled by the circumstance

of a gender bending

authority

in his mind,

yet

in another’s

an opportunity

perhaps to find Grace

between man and woman,

to know some

spiritual guidance

will take our lives much further

then simple rejection.

 

Oh, but simple is not truth,

this analogy

seems a convenient

escape beyond our

self-described realism.

 

Man is not alone,

in a sweet testament

could if found

embark upon a journey

perhaps a sojourn

of forgiveness

to know only that

she

might, may, could, will be

a savior

in the fault

of human pride

the human condition

as it plays out

ego.

Nature Is An Ask

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We wind our humanity across a babbling stream

call it our own of course for we say we belong.

Matters little life of a creature seeming dream

this haven feed silence in their tiny world long.

 

Scrape away life with corrosive blades of pain

the construct of a vision far beyond that of game.

We will build here, our own safe haven our gain

quiet animals survive might we give sweet name.

 

We are that primate race intelligence does mask

hiding ourselves in conclaves of brick and mortar.

Would we anyone be less defensive in this an ask

the land we sweep meant to be our general order.

 

When was it that Man chose simplicity to scrape

this order delight, of a living patterned landscape.

Listening Out Loud

Watching the news,

hearing the words,

imagining the time,

wondering about just

right now.

 

Reflection in the way,

causeways toward truth,

the ignorance of time,

we all want to find,

a happy place.

 

Chapters in reserve,

there’s no way back

to resolve the issues

we knew way back when

we had no idea.

 

Grew up far too quickly,

forgot childhood pranks,

laughter in innocent appeal,

the world simply occurred,

I stepped in the way.

 

I often imagine taboo,

and then I want to cry,

I realize the storm is heading

clearly my way, and no matter

the time, it will sway.

 

Quiet the temperate fog,

the shadows will remain,

just the sunlight in its

delightful intensity,

still will rise.

 

I spoke loud one afternoon,

the world listened

and a million men

joined in a shattering chorus

of shallow regard.

To Reach The Sky

When on a walk one early summer morn

A man began to think of life beyond

He paused to watch while children so forlorn

Seemed occupied in games they thought so fond.

 

While certain parts of life seem unattained

If standing here today would measure love

Then all the man would need to feel restrained

Might be a song, a cooing of a dove.

 

Where have the days begun to slide away

A man who stands alone knows no despair

Yet when the people call there is this way

The sky becomes the answer though we swear.

 

To gather storms to help define a sky

Would leave the afterward a silent cry.

Poison’s Touch

Breathe a sweet ardor

travels inside mind’s eye,

wishful, wistful, desire fleeting,

a want speaks of love, what we know

sometimes not the same,

what we will

could then become

what we are

when the shadows disappear,

the shades are drawn,

an empty glass display case

shatters in the quiet night of our reckoning.

~

That’s when the real of the world

becomes a sliding reel of memory

wanting to hold court only with our brief respite of

sanity.

So ill-begotten is the pleasure of agenda,

when still in the mind,

our hopes – perhaps simple dreams – an envy

tears apart any fabric of imagination

that makes allowance

alabaster’s human condition.

~

When then I spent a day with a powerful dream,

that which fed,

nourished my need,

well might my vulnerable soul,

that I choose to splay in the public eye,

might that demeanor,

suddenly have at its doorstep

a loss,

a wake of impassioned victory,

that the poisonous quill of insanity,

draws away our inner peace,

eats away,

devours any sense of reality –

might we then whither away,

yet no peace.

In Harps and Violins

Where I would like to be

when I pass along my legacy,

without the notion of morbid

reality

I would wish to be in a lift

an elevation of state of mind

you see

We are part of this world

of constant scrutiny

far more lethal it seems

in the internal quest toward

sanity,

than it might be found to be true

in the external nature

of discovery.

I am a soul, entity, enigma, stereotype, passion

I live with agony, desire, pleasure, happiness

I wander within the confines of my mind,

and yet,

how often do I allow myself to recognize

that all of you,

each and every soul that wanders the earth,

we all no matter our being,

in the human condition,

we are all standing together

nearby one another,

not so distant as we sometimes hope we might be.

We are here,

now –

couldn’t you all agree?

Perhaps not today said the wise man without eyes,

though he might cry in the corner

while we are all

away …

Hello!

Circles

When last we spoke,

I mentioned how long it had been,

since we could recall ourselves,

we had distance in our eyes,

the lines of time, the paths of freedom,

we traversed hours in search of how we knew

our lives were meant to be.

When your eyes said hello,

after the minute or two of

indecision,

we knew that time was less relative

than it was real for the moment.

At least I had hoped you might believe me,

but I gave you no reason to imagine

we could be the same again.

I remember looking around the room,

and seeing familiar faces, eyes, smiles,

hands grasping their only world for the moment,

I do recall seeing

hesitation,

wondered whether grace would ever be allowed

in conversations again.

I recall being here before,

wondering if I might ever understand,

why this place would always be familiar.

I wandered away that day, just hoping somehow,

we might see this day again, but I didn’t know when …

that might be when I decided to retrace my …

I might have realized then,

I was hoping again to find you in my dreams.