This confinement I achieve is A useful split from others When reaching out is decayed From lack of use and From a driven purpose This not really alone stays Where I hear, see and feel Plenty of people around me Then extraordinary talk Sublime and accidental Catches my ear, lights blinking A horn outside reminds- This surrounded self keeps Searching for connections and memory Clouded by sparks of word rain
Embarrassing poetry happens again Un- pre- pondered, full of dread Will it fit once all is spilled Into the cracks of another head? Some message, sure That might clarify the blur Or a copout excuse- the freedom to see The message could spring from anybody But next year for certain, Love. Some kind of incantation A spell for peace...
If I stop making pictures They seem more precious or valuable Which can"t be true. The worth of making is not moved To the value of what is made. "A lot of time went into this" But it won't come out. The value of made things remains Inside the one who sees A beholder because holding can Only lead to release
My presence Heavy on this birthday cake My wind noise Unknowing annoys, escapes My word silence Still heard on old tapes My leaving Heavy at this funeral wake
I see what I'm looking for Most generally Plus a little of what I see The rest I miss, it must be true It goes by magically Unless that's what I'm hunting Some conjured hidden view Which I can do quite easily Even when looking at you
In time for one more joke I thought it was later Don't get me incorrect I appreciate humor So I sat to listen Opened my eyes and The stage was underneath me Long windows cast a glow "Election year!" I shouted The shadows croaked with laughter The podium on fire said The stage is soon to go
Don't listen too sharply I'm hearing you back From further here today Where you ought to be Not so far that I only see Your ghost from memory And don't watch if I can't see you, where my prattle goes Chasing a former life
A name I wrote became myself I wanted someone new The time to leave my shell behind Was getting overdue The name I took from hearing Sounded like the past A mountain climb I left behind Sticking to me fast The name I made no different People like to talk I'll keep myself the way I am A piece of the old block
I smile at people Sometimes they wonder why Either by frowning askance A question of my normalcy Or a shield of "How ya doin'" Goes up supporting distance I smile at people and you Smiling back Lock eyes with me in confidence Sharing joy does not deplete Still we break our glance Discreetly chancing a second look
Maybe snowdirt is a good name People call it whatever comes to mind Seeing snowpiles left behind slowest to melt and heaving up pieces of lost and discarded stuff dropped by shovels and plows who made the heaps that turned into sooty bumps The melting snowdirt of March running into April streets
One possible function In the crumbling of states While transportation and communication Scatter tribes Herds of hatred and seperation Can test and assure allegiance To one or another religion While freedom remains Difficult to express and scary For the authorities
In the cold, sweat still rolls Under the warm coat to shoes Colder yet and sweat will freeze Rolling in chunks around the eyes Not falling, stopped in nose and throat Until a small bird froze, there was safety This was a warning Bird said "I did not starve, ate no poison just left the nest for a drink" Dead now, no bird sweat, no cheep. Soon this finish will find me. Where I fly now cannot frost my feathers Ahh dreams in bed. A covered head.
Sometimes I take a walk unprepared with where to go And it's fine Other times the way is distorted, made pointless by unpointed wandering The empty purpose gathers weight Pecking in rhythm with my steps Drawing thoughts like excercise, traffic/building/sky...views Breathing different air Then the ultimate destination Rambling right back here
Waking to music from next door A lit candle from last night Wax on the floor and tablecloth Grey light in the windows Softening the view of this disarray Tunes bleed from the wall Flickering like the candle Our runny dreams rest on pillows Uncollected while sleep fades A party mess undressed by dawn Dark covers are gone again The music goes on for a while