Watching

Earth

moon

Have you ever wondered,

a crystal night, stars amaze our eyes,

we walk the pavement of our lives,

in contemplation, where next.

 

Oh there are places we might see,

the visionary sense of certainty.

 

She looks upon our world,

amass of humanity,

living on channeled ice,

melting in flooded waters.

 

While everywhere materials

bought and sold and destroyed,

lay the ground speaks humanity,

burning the flesh of our lives.

 

She will watch forever you know,

long beyond the cellophane blues,

before we ever might realize,

how critical is the ground we soil.

 

The simple notion of carbon gases,

evaporating the core, delightful

is the prize of immortality

if while we cry emissions will allow.

 

An emotional plea is Nature’s wrath,

the ice caps change in form by day,

at night while asleep we dream,

She remains aware forever aglow.

 

Oh there are places we might see,

the visionary sense of certainty.

Sometimes I Stop

There is that occasion when the world evolves,

and I, for the sake of I, stay static,

I stop,

I don’t smell  the flowers, or even walk in the humidity,

instead,

I am frozen in time, wondering just how many hours

will drift past my eyes before I can

know,

before I might understand,

why the motion of my mind seems to be

in a perpetual state of idle.

 

When these episodic windfalls of clarity,

reach my sub-conscious,

I sometimes wonder about perception,

not about yours or theirs or anyone beyond my world,

but more about them,

those I love, the children, the voices, the people

that all know where I come from,

they all know the

affliction,

the seemingly easy out I have in my lexicon of words

to justify just why I want to cry.

 

It seems though,

in the silence of any room, any vacant space,

it is apparent, that I will stay here, forever.

Synaptic Delights

Vibrant

God's Clock

flash a mystery

we haven’t the ordeal

ahead of us, behind, around us

only memory

something spectacular occurred

from a distance we noticed

perhaps a falling star,

might be a meteor.

Walk inside my dream

see me come alive,

my brain a functioning factory

synapse heaven in every regard.

I will explode with a fever

its alright

we all have the possibility

of proving to the world around us,

we can lose it regularly,

like anyone else

sparkles, a mind’s challenge

Public Outburst

When once we try, we seem to always want to …

In the grip of our mentor’s eye we flail

veritable while the moment at hand,

suddenly turns reactive, perhaps passive.

~

I’m tired these days I would certain say why

if anyone were to ask, yet the shadows

remain rampant reeling ideals,

settled by a common thread of decency.

~

To cause the curtain to fall on a prophecy

one might suggest a travesty of the kind

whose scrutiny become the laughing tide

welcomes the opportunity to wonder aloud.

~

When faced by a fear to recognize truth

we would certain fall upon ground scathed.

In Succession

How many times in a day

must I try to overcome

my mindful traces along the way

those doubtful winsome

~

notions capturing my way

I walk inside a foggy emotion

stuck in some simple sway

I want only to stop the commotion

~

If I listen to jazz on a Sunday night

could it be the muse I speak of

or does that same melody that might

give me peace, release a lovely dove.

~

I want to understand my pain

I do wish only to leave this place

the way I cry at night a refrain,

must somehow leave a sort of trace

~

I want the world I know inside the word

to wish for easier time with life

I would be grateful if beyond the absurd

I might experience less strife

~

I suppose it is foolish to imagine a release

freedom enough in spiritual term is peace

 

Recovery is Truth

We might want to challenge,

our demons,

Perhaps we can manage

black ravens

in figurative form glancing upon our lives

while we do provoke

a resilient will, a desire to control, an impossible

passion to let go.

A society exists

makes rules

suggests mores

enlightens the soul

with truth

yet there are the waivers

a moment of freedom might easily

become the central torment;

only a clear mind, a thoughtful plan,

a willing participant in happiness,

will recognize the power in recovery.

It is that place

where

while the world continues

we step back,

learn to breathe again,

understand our truths need

inner strength,

help secure sanity,

letting go of crazy

 

He Did Speak To Me

I was a child, eight years old with a mind,

I knew the political storm

through the eyes of my siblings, remind

me again where values form.

At home, the weather inside seems mellow

we all want the same things

yet there’s a society out there lays below

a currency of evil minglings.

When just a child I watched a nation’s dream

die.

I sat in my grandparent’s sunporch to scream

why.

We all knew there wasn’t a chance,

yet his words did ideals enhance

we really did imagine peace occur

at the hands of those that truly care.

MLK seemed to live in a time when a world

stayed afraid rather than try to be otherwise,

his words would touch the heart of millions

yet, there were those

we all remember

there were the populace didn’t want to understand.

They eventually won their way with a violent stand.

Today I stand with God in hope we all might recall

a beautiful man, with a tough skin, strengthened us all.