Lamentation
Despair spares not the sparrows,
Disparity, sparse speros spars:
Paring par until perhaps,
Without pardon
Life is lost.
Comprehension, like anatomy, fails.
Sentience, like mass should not be created
Or destroyed
Its mere existence should guarantee its extension
Transferring through different media
But never quite gone
Never completely gone
Without pain
Or regret
Or indecision.
I, my self
I would discard this body
If I could
In a single tentative heartleap
I would discard this uncouth body
I would discard this faltering facade
I would discard this sensual illusion
Azure eyes and inherited vulnerabilities
I would discard this body
If I could
Exist extra-corporeally.
Clock
Serial tics
Steady progression
Pages flipping
Fluttering leaden
In muffled silence
Disavowing
The impermanent shelter
Of fading opacity
Serial tics
Feeble attempts
To disparage
The convoluted certainty
Of foreshortened
Conclusion
Serial tics
Steady progression
Slow procession
The march of
(anti?) mortality.
Rain Storm
Slow drops
Steady perfection
A line of illumination
A rumble of dissent
But I do not care for
Unwarranted agreement
So I cannot disavow
This trembling joy
The cold
Succinct words
Of a worthy adversary
Epiphany
Wispy
Intangible
Grappling
To be solid
The moment when
The sunlight tints my vision
Blue, Purple, Orange
And I know.
I know
Until the darkness reembraces
The next stanza of a hitherto
Unwritten poem
The chorus of an archaic
Mantra
Reverberating onwards
The resonance
Changing my pulse
Epiphany
The formless inspiration
And I know.
I know
What I really knew before
But in today’s hectic fog
Forgot.
Hurrying
Racing
Pacing
Hurrying through
A slow-motion world
That never the less
Endeavors
To run faster than me
The Sea
When I shut my eyelids
I imagine I can touch every continent
Imagine I can caress people half a world away
Outstretched arms reveling in
The dark clouds above me
The timeless ocean
The moon’s gravity.
The sea stretches vastly onwards
Empty
Eternal
Magnificent
Indifferent
Undisturbed and uncontrollable
Touching every continent:
Incarnate hope.
Drifting
Strolling at my own slow pace
Books on my back
Wondering what it would be like
If I, like the wind that rushes through my hair,
Could drift
So many particles of oxygen and hydrogen
So many particles floating free
If I could swirl over amber fields and stir up the autumn leaves
If I could rustle through pine needles
And create waves to ride
If I could provide relief to some weary traveler
In desperate need of a breeze
If I could be the chill that runs down your spine
If I could soar into the heavens and alight in the skies
Traveling forever in forever’s own time
And somehow still maintain a semblance of my consciousness
The atoms of my being like neurons loosely connecting
those memories too precious to lose,
that otherworldly knowledge of flying, floating, living
Sensing without sight, sound, or taste, the sweet symphonic textures
Of the universe.
A Reason to Exist
Intoxicated by the beauty of the clear night sky
Lost in the wonder of brilliant pin pricks
Against a hazy veil
Dazzled by simplicity
Too caught up to even breathe
Carried away in separate thoughts
I need to be let free
I need someone to take my hand
And lead me back to earth
It seems to me it’s been awhile
Since I last saw anything of worth
My heart it beats so hollowly,
It needs a reason to exist
But gazing all around me
I can’t help but think
This might just be it.