A Life Led

Watching movies all of our lives,

imagined scenarios,

romantic interludes

with coveted designs

all created within the scope

of such sweet select yearn

we celebrate a constant envy.

 

While the world reminds

us of simple routine,

a Thanksgiving Day parade

the Macy’s celebration,

streets lined with normalcy,

our world in a capsule

filled with smiles and reason.

 

Watching a stranger now,

who did once lead a life,

a sort of mechanical failure

brought him to his knees

standing outside

a warmth and peace inside.

 

We choose our lives.

Would we that gather an

idyllic scenario

now that terms are met

could we ever disregard

the notion of our lives

to be the

sweet remembrance of why.

 

In lasting conversations with friends

as memory suggests, pretend.

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Finding A Rhythm

I use music,

depends upon the day,

usually something

upbeat, jazzy, message driven,

something to soothe

my soul,

it is the motive of a rhythm

to move the body,

let the mind follow,

let the whole of ourselves

become transfixed,

designed with the heart in sight.

 

We like to travel,

I

like to travel

go places well beyond

the space I am in,

rather than the physical nature

getting away,

I’d like rather to know

right here, right now,

I can go there, you might come here

in the span of a moment,

in the quiet serenade

of a bluesy melody.

 

‘Talk to me some more

you don’t have to go.’ – Phoebe Snow

 

Something to be said,

without having to find

the answer,

just a listen

follow the beat

listen to intention,

find some meaning

moves beyond the moment,

let’s you settle inside a memory,

perhaps a dream,

a fantasy,

let it take you somewhere

tonight.

Sweet Albatross

albatross and sailboat

would that we might
seek refuge
in a distance
be aware of our
surroundings
I will guide you by wing
sweeping upon distant
perils and swallows
trust me
for it is my
guidance
would you chance
in the grips of Nature’s siege
upon a
human
whose quiet
fallibility
reveals itself
in a distant
memory.

Always Practical

Was it always this simple

The practical practice

Of knowing one another

So the strengths and weakness

Might somehow balance

 

Were we that naïve in beginnings

A trip to Europe

See the world and imagine life

From a perspective beyond

The normalcy we are taught to hold.

 

I remember the time I came

Down early, the hostel,

One of the last really crowded ones,

I saw him,

Sitting across from you with interest.

 

I’d noticed that look before

A short smile

Guarded yet with an innocence that

Suggested,

Yes this is the way it can be.

 

I wonder about practicality,

Sitting in the sunroom,

A cigarette burns to imagine

Statues as a sort of hip décor,

When inside a human being despaired.

 

I tried to tell you that quiet morning,

When reddened your eyes

Wouldn’t change their hue

We no longer, well I didn’t

We hadn’t been whom we knew.

Only The Glow of My Laptop

midnight

It is a summer night now to be sure

My mind is beyond always elsewhere here

I wonder listen to the bullfrog near

Lily pad in fiction’s eerie picture

 

I wait for the silence of night rhythm

Tells me of some other creature nearby

A passing wolf, perhaps more fox in sly

Quiet wood serenade in Nature’s hymn

 

Sheltered in a structure deep in forest

A man imagines life is elsewhere now

Though tell me natural sound like this how

Often we forget this simple task best

 

There’s a beaver pond outside my window

Tells me life begins well beyond my know


Photo – Pinterest