Tag: soul

When I Was Alone

I used to cry a lot,

the tears readily

descending my cheeks.

If I let myself go

the sobbing was

rather spectacular,

to tell a tale.

When I was alone,

I would stare out windows

count the slats

in my blinds,

waiting for the sunlight,

and then watching the light

descend into another night,

while the tears might remain.

While alone

my mind would stir,

I’d imagine all those scary

things that haunt our mind,

when left alone,

our own devices,

no longer working

in the manner we might wish.

When traveling alone

I remember seeing the world

with my eyes

naked to the world around me.

I would have to stand up

without assistance,

make sure no one around

saw my life unsteady.

Instead I would wish

the many faces nearby

would see a man

with a settled heart

and a yearning soul.

Early Hours

A starlit horizon

eyes awake

thoughts for miles

already torn


not only the day ahead

hours turn into

new life, new eyes.

Wonder of beauty

soft and supple

this newborn philosophy

needs nurturing

hands to guide

such is a

birthing soul.

What will she love

when bringing joy

into the hearts

of all who hold

her humble beginnings.

A Soft Melody

To swoon,

listen to soft music,

an enchanting melody.

To feel the senses alive

with the passion of love.

To understand the beauty

of holding one’s heart

without asking them first

the spontaneity of our

vulnerability received.

Something to cherish

is the simple nature of

knowing the truth

in melody.

All songs from the heart …

reminders of who we are,

who we want to be,

where we come from

why we are now.

Songs from the heart,

our soul,

soft melodies restore us.

Where My Heart Is

Same place

same emotion

can feel it inside

sometimes the ache

has an emptiness.

When I rest my soul inside

there seems a joy

waiting to be filled.

Wherever my thoughts

my heart waits

always ready

always patient

hoping to be filled


A Banished Soul

It’s been banished

deep inside his own soul,

a non-believer

a decider.


While begging


all seems a regretting



Like this is supposed to happen

common rants

hopeful outcomes that then

deliberately trip on ramps.


An all extolling soul

would already,

having seen the cast in whole

stay at the ready.


Far inside the mind

a torn facade of truth

speculations unwind

– the way back to her youth.


Simply have to be who – they

nothing faulty

lots of convoluting slam.

leaves the soul less guilty.


a wisp of sweet summer fall

and the heart is clean

the soul swindling infidel

long set sail, peaceful scene.


Perhaps a clue, any idea

what we are talking about

who they are in the media,

instances dreamt afloat.


Commonality is our swoon

like life, living in a festoon.

© Thom Amundsen 10/2021

This Little Man

He exists only in some plan

a diversion of mine and hers

we are lost in our own hearts

one simple flare of the Man.


Seems there can be a truth,

we listen, bear our hearts

without worry of wrath, imparts

a cycle of hurt so very uncouth.


If in God’s eyes he train the mind

to live on its own accord, afford

our lives to bury the sword.

Live with love is our humankind.


How do we know to forget

or is a stored energy we play

for the autumn is nearer today

fears that stubborn scorn let.


Let them lift their bodies cold

find a sweet warmth spoken

a slow and harmonic plan

will lives to share love so bold.


Once while observe the moon a crescent

without the whole she could not be present.

© Thom Amundsen 9/2021

Capture My Mood

Tell me how you’re going to feel

the next time you touch my soul


We could be friends forever

organize a press release

sounds poetic, a tad eacer

someone, we keep the peace


There was this one afternoon

we spoke of our adventure

shipwrecked we might maroon

our lives, this our forever.


Tell me how you’re going to feel

the next time you touch my soul.

Tell me how you’re going to feel

the next time you touch my soul.


When the walls began to cave

ought we have better understood

the freedom to love and save

seemed trite and rather screwed.


Stand inside the balance

and feel some sacrifice

Stand inside with chance

the love, your favorite vice


Tell me how your going to feel

the next time you touch my soul.

© Thom Amundsen 9/2021

She Wanted My Path

When first glance, our smiles filled the room

we couldn’t believe it true so we held fast,

didn’t want to let go just let things become,

and the fires began, the winds couldn’t last.


I wonder sometimes if it could have rained

sooner then the tears we now seem to know,

if instead our emotions could be restrained,

would we have somewhere together to go.


I don’t ever quite know the words I wish to use

I don’t ever quite know the words I wish to use

I wish she may look into my eyes, find my truths


The other day I thought about the riverwalk

a place where we did smile, a fire, red chairs,

we could laugh and play like kids and talk,

now all we do is fear, and love, no more dares.


I used to love to hold her in my arms at night

I would hold you in my arms again if … might.

© Thom Amundsen 8/2021

To Find My Soul

Often as the wind might change direction

so does my heart begin its own journey

to find my soul, to search for absolution

from the scariest parts of my, my disarray.


Oh to know the beast of my own conclusive

nature toward wanting only a defeated psyche.

One could easily describe such is my missive

designed to incorporate my own quiet psyche.


It is that machine he spoke of once in a movie

we all move the same because it is what we are

told ought be our direction without any scrutiny

on motive alone, designed to have gone too far.


I watched you dance one evening without any step

just a casual saunter around your own countertop.

Remember later when we remarked upon feeling kept

alive, sweet serenade the shuffle of fantasy in a mop.


Yes, we are as common as the world might ever allow,

no special guidelines, only kindness in a compassionate

surround of affectionate desire and sensuality and how.

We did begin a wonderful journey together a silent state.


So now in the public eye seems some loss of what might enhance

the beauty of two lovers who once in awhile chose to take a chance.

© Thom Amundsen 8/2021

-for kk

Losing My Heart

A free verse moment


When I think about where I’ve been,

the miles of deceit my mind has endured

to decide upon some sacrifice

get in line,

they all wait with baited breath

because it’s easy to decline

any idea of fortune

when feeling the pain of surviving

seems to be the only outlet.


The fabrication of all of our solution,

we listen, we speak to what we want to hear

especially when those close

are found nowhere near.


It’s easy to wrap ourselves in this despair

this convoluted mean-spirited affair,

the woe is me,

the I don’t care,

the sometimes people just really don’t any longer

have the time to wonder where

the years have gone,

the years have gone,

the years have gone and tomorrow seems awfully near,

so wherever we land

doesn’t really matter



I was walking down the street one afternoon,

saw some kids playing nearby,

thought of my children when so much younger,

their laughter was rampant without a care,

I shed a tear in memory,

because I can’t go back there,

wish I could

think I should

somehow there has to be an after.


I woke up this morning, went to pray for my soul,

I woke up this … my heart had unraveled whole.

© Thom Amundsen.  8/2021