If I tell you what I feel,
it’s a normal reveal.
If I want to be exposed
I’ll tell you all my throes.
Seems simple on my mind,
memory, rather not rewind
Miles of the long journey,
hours of lost scrutiny.
Seems I’d rather stay alone
then live inside my own.
This pain I feel is real,
easily thought surreal.
The truth is, I will always stay
this life of mine feels OK
I’ll tell you when I know
I’ll live before I go.
It appeared
a sudden warmth
plays out memory
in a passage
fitting for anyone
as it could
in a tragic novel
spoke of time
and our yearn.
I saw the green light today
and I would breathe.
©️ Thom Amundsen 12/2021
Until the weeping eyes are visible
we can’t really know the pain,
when everything seems possible,
instead we lose our train
of thought,
so frought
we fought,
when ought
either one of us might instead,
recognize there is no realistic
time on love that wasn’t wasted
because we’d rather be frantic.
this security
a certain witty
banter is shitty
when only pretty
memories seem our last resort
because it never is real
our lasting hoping is out of sort
because it never is real,
until one day its all gone and we think it a pity
this casting shadow of hope’s lost serendipity.
this casting shadow of hope’s lost serendipity
this casting shadow of …
hope’s lost serendipity.
© Thom Amundsen 8/2021
If we could shape our world
those lives we
learned we might,
imagined we could,
promised we would
all three blends of a sensuality
cascading our mind like a summer rain
sweet, scented, soaking serendipity.
Three lives
if we could shape desire and promise
might we all understand
we can overwhelm
the mystique … our human mind.
©️ Thom Amundsen 6/2021
When it happens I can smile,
not a knowing I am right sort of
trivialized agreement,
far more this sanity we all try to live
yet seldom understand
why.
I remember once being told
we ought not ever ask,
only allow
let the circumstance be not our own,
only cast the open freedom
to salvage respect
rather than beg a
forgiveness
leaves us wondering
why
I m grateful
she told me then in simple terms,
her smile.
©️ Thom Amundsen 4/2021
They are not loud,
in fact,
whispers that catch me,
wondering where.
They are in my head,
reminders
of why it is that way I am
will be my forever.
I sometimes in the silence
can imagine window sills tremble,
the sky is falling
inside my mind.
I wonder if you might know,
this feeling
is more powerful than
anything I will ever know.
Know it is true,
Know it can never go away.
No, no, know.
I am in my quiet,
the fortress of my own
isolation.
I’m doing everything right,
six feet apart,
wash your hands,
clean your countertops,
do the laundry,
wear gloves at the gas station,
(wait I didn’t, a week ago, what if … )
So many, wonders, what if,
thank God I have my dog,
the only issue though is when he reaches to
touch me,
it usually ends in an abrasive
scratch,
I’ll rather have you close than
catching me in full gallant leap.
I can think of other times in my life when that
unconscious leap occurred
into the arms of one we love,
of those we love,
of the beauty and grace of a hug
of knowing we were consciously
being held.
I no longer imagine my friend
who was in her own faze
of the healing nature of a hug
asking for a constant hug
to such a degree,
would I take a turn
a distant hallway,
find a stairwell,
a corner to escape this moment
of discovery.
I would like that moment back,
or maybe let’s wait a week from now,
I promise,
I will shower,
wash my hands,
wipe down my countertops,
keep a six foot distance,
until no longer
do I need to repress
my own desire,
a need to be held,
a wish to hold
a screaming irony to avoiding those hugs
throughout the entirety
of my own
chosen
isolated life.
COVID 19 rant
© Thom Amundsen 3/2020
We did
in quiet observation,
attend of course
the eyes
windows that speak
well beyond the notice
of a fashion,
of a trend,
of an expectation.
Instead, just a glance
where both pain and joy
can reside,
can wait for the next opportunity
to speak aloud
in the framework
of sweet silence.
We are that coincidence
when two people
encounter one another
on a summer’s day,
in the heat,
the passionate embrace
of a spectacular
sunrise.
We look for the eyes
accentuate the why
© Thom Amundsen 2019
Remember the word invaluable
its mystique left in its own mythological
persona, that feeling of worthiness
beyond the normalcy of our lives.
Remember we always believe,
seldom do we allow ourselves
to fail the resilient nature of
respecting the human condition.
Remember we tend to pretend
‘everything is alright’
‘we should get together soon’
while our facade takes us away.
Remember all the questions
that will arise
when one makes a choice
no one else can understand.
Remember the fascination we have
with living breathing smiling
human beings
remember we are all the same.
Remember to never take for granted
the actions of one have nothing to do
with you.
There in the silence
a wandering soul,
human being
whom when asked
will respond,
will navigate
inside a moment.
What is it the
seeming attraction
takes their heart
beyond finding peace,
instead persecution
offers solace
before a quiet passion.
Once in a storybook
lived a man
who did question
his life,
the meaning around
what is value,
still he found no answer.
There is a fear sometimes
in words,
those subjective tones
an affirmation
later became
such a powerful
condemnation.
How do we survive
when the brain
seems readily drawn
to yanking,
demanding,
interrupting the flow
of a soft heart.
Where is the deepest chasm,
one that defines our lives.
A Theatre Website 