Set Sail

Oh to be that stifling energy,

the sort we practice far too much,

the moment we question our integrity

we belong locked up and silenced such.

It is a confidence thing

helps find our path,

reach for really anything

and curb societal wrath.

Telling a story about satisfaction

take an effort to experience that

the ability to know a solution

to the human condition, that!

We all choose to walk alone

together, by our sides a fashion.

© Thom Amundsen 10/2021

Words Employ

Though I wish

might words be employ,

to quite realize

would be to bore (the mind).

Finding a phrase

attaching to character

becomes imperative

under analysis.

Is it an attraction

sets the tone

for a positive reaction

to the world we’re bound.

The traffic of our soul

demands when about,

sacrifice and resolve

seems far reaching – we evolve.

When once he knew

the again that flew,

his ideas being sorted

questions again, by her.

Seems lost in a shuffle

this be, this inspiration.

© Thom Amundsen 10/2021

Writing Peace

Suddenly taken

by the normalcy of error,

would wonder speculation

that part of fear.

An indecision of the mind

We are tortured

within a wonder

when the brain

might matter

negotiating my state of mind.

Found in the moment

am I this facade

this fraud

this foul

this ill-wrought creature

of habit

some disregard

There is an apple of truth

waits the real me

basking

adoring how the meaning ‘be’

is


© Thom Amundsen 10/2021

Saying Anything

In a moment alone

we in the present

widen our scope of judgment

lacking a dialogue

a helpful manner of speaking.

~

If heard on the other side of the room

having little direction

a construable offense

would be the second another

guest

spoke from the heart without any filter

none at all.

~

To undermine each other

would be in some circles

meant as a challenge

to better oneself,

to out duel the most tedious

exercise in humility,

little restraint would be necessary

to make an ass of the luxury

of having peace of mind.

~

When words become a monument

we need visualize

the climb,

each stone and rock and slide and flounder

would then reciprocate

some turnabout way

we might let our lives intermingle

meandering down some path

to a settling ground.

~

With only words the night would heavy

wait for opportunity to find silence.


© Thom Amundsen 9/2021

Last Spoken

When while every moment of life speaks

with the echo of nature,

some choose a concrete sentiment.

Is it possible to know last words

perhaps spill similar sound.

~

I wanted to say every moment meant

the exact opposite of what remains,

yet, the words, the voice, our own

struggle to be the immediate in

what we might believe,

would not allow any reveal,

we did, I did, squandered away

such is this momentum to relive.

~

Now will be a slow silence,

forever quiet with resolve …

ambling, fading into the summer sky,

when a melody speaks aloud

its strength is less,

like some lost memory we

no longer find to be anything

ever so important as it once

maybe one time held before.

~

I could not be capable of compassion

if meaning were a facade in my mind.


© Thom Amundsen 7/2021

Solace Undefined

One of my favorite words might be overused,

less important to you

even if spoken in the nature of

you.

Could we ever really give final definition

to the thoughts we realize

are sometimes a notion

in our mind.

I would sit here all day long only to offer

her a moment of quiet peace

in her silence

her own space.

If every time I would suggest I want only

to offer you a moment of silence,

that feeling of abandon

without loss.

I once sat by a lake and as waters rippled,

my tears did flow, a sort of God moment

actually it was that moment,

and my tears did fall.

Wonder with me what is the simple act

of sight, of knowing, of feeling

where our bodies become

an artistry of love.


© Thom Amundsen  7/2021

She Gives Me Real

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

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

Quiet Love

Words will only restrain

such is beauty in motion.

An actual acknowledgment

within a silent serenade.

For this is love

when planning matter not.

For love is

somehow a quizzical reminder.

Our lives not bound by preface

if we live in simple harmony.

Love is

a quiet refuge stills the shadows.


©️ Thom Amundsen 1/2021

There Are These Days

A couple of weeks ago my world went dark. I made horrific plans, mapped out the day, my valuables, important tokens of my life. I say this because it does happen to people, and now I feel a better grasp and that is more valuable than any guilt or shame over previous moments in my life.

I call it these days because they really come and go. The weather outside is beautiful, and during the summer I spent most of my time on my bicycle, and tonight I couldn’t get myself to move. It is funny how our lives become wrapped up in ourselves, and we forget about those around us. Now with Covid, we are more often than not forced to live only with ourselves. I have a dog now, he is a beautiful animal, and just comes and lays by me most of the time, or if he hears or senses anything emotional from me, he’ll come and check me out. A couple of weeks ago when I hit that low, he was someone I couldn’t leave behind without somebody to be there to care for him immediately.

I think when I get lost inside myself, I forget the world around me. I feel pretty valueless when I let this trapping take over my state of mind. I fortunately have a lot of people I can reach out to, but sometimes one or two might be far more important than everyone else. It doesn’t mean that everyone doesn’t carry the same value, there are just easier words found with the few.

I began writing to an old friend recently. I wrote her a letter out of the blue, and it was overwhelming for her to hear my words 40 years later. I felt this certain energy when I wrote her, it just let my mind go and took off and I could see and hear my words as they were hitting the paper, and I just let them go. I’ve only been able to do that with one other person in my life and now she has disappeared much like my old friend, so I resort back to these pages. I hope someday I can put them together in some manner that lets at least me believe the words hold value.

Tonight I found myself watching TV, letting the hours slip by. I have a morning obligation that I have to contribute to rather than just show up. Sometimes it is easier to do that – show up – without really taking value in the effort or what others are receiving from me. What is the energy I bring to a room. I want my students to have fun, so we have a lot of laughs, but what if it means nothing to me anymore. Isn’t that really just hurting the kids? Oh, see how easy that was? I found another way to beat myself up.

The weirdest thing happened to me the night I was feeling my low. I was beside myself and I wrote a letter to a dear friend whom I cannot get a response, and I talked about some dark moments. I think deep in my mind, I was begging for a wellness check, and so shortly after I went to bed around midnight and my code for the entrance to my village gate rang on my phone. I couldn’t figure out why. I thought there might be a connection and so I stood out on my deck expecting the cops to pull up for a welfare check on my state of mind. But no one ever did. So now I guess somebody hit the wrong number. I really haven’t any idea, but I think God was sending me a message.

I think about where my state of mind goes so quickly when I am feeling down. It goes as deep as my fresh optimism goes high. I can never seem to find that common ground, that even keel, that ability to balance on the fence.

I think in the time of Covid, it really is difficult to feel hope without despair. I don’t like my job right now, it is not because of the kids, I love my students, I just don’t like having an administration that has their own struggles but doesn’t reveal with anyone because of their role. I think we are all struggling right now, and to add to it, a remarkably historic election week, and we are all on the edge.

I guess I have rambled here a bit tonight, but I really wanted to just talk about how easy it is to fall into a mania that gives suicide a platform when loneliness and sadness overtake our lives. It happened to me, and it does more often than not, I just am better hiding it than I used to. There are really only a couple of people in my life who know I walk around like this all the time. A couple of weekends ago, nothing mattered, and then I scared myself, so now tonight as I finish this up, I guess I am just recognizing another vulnerability in my own human condition that I cannot let become triggered – rather I need to accept it and move on.

I always find a way to come to terms ever so briefly with understanding mood. I just wish it could be consistent and forever.


© Thom Amundsen 11/2020