Dissolution

I want to change my life
to something that moves me.

I want to wrap my understanding
in this change...see different
things...have different views...

and I want to feel different.

I want to be alive,
be aware of what I am,
disregard all I have learned,
broaden my plane,
smash the sameness of my life.

These caustic years have
dissolved my roots.
I'm almost free,
but still,
each time I look, I see
the same image of my daily bread.





Something Cloaked in Filigree

A vague scent
always pulling
always pushing,
something with one eye
without a pointing finger,

without a difference.

I know it's you.
But I need assurance.
Is what I believe real?
Do I understand the connection?
And why...
Why do I believe it matters?

On Processing The Word

These small printed words,
made of strange tiny markings
run across my tinted screen,
assumed and dignified,
pushed and molded into meanings
that boggle my mind
as well as stupefying my senses.

There are words whose meanings
are so profound their weight
crashes the most sophisticated
of playthings, so
even the printed pages
swell to extra thickness.
Then too, there are words made
of these same tiny markings,
so absurd that the letters squirm
uncomfortable in their tight cages

All words push the truth,
that's their negative side.
But sometimes, somehow,
some find their way into the slots
left open to them,
their meanings snake
through the thickest wall
and slowly fill the natural basin
and overflow with astonishing beauty.

At these times I can sing their songs,
keeping time with my tapping fingers.

A Most Undesirable Sentiment

I awake cold and wanting.
Remorse, the black shadow
blunting my resolve,
leaps into focus.
I wear it like a sodden coat.

On the street
everything is steely gray,
baleful and dark and threatening;
a low end depressing place
housing a thousands chills.

The freezing rain pelts
my face and the effort
to hold my penance weakens.
I lose concentration,
stumble on the uneven ground,

and in just that instant I truly
realize that there is nothing
I can do. There is no one to
petition, or to curse or beseech.
There is only me.

I don't know how I'll sustain myself.

Match Point

Life was going so well for her.
Everything slipping into place;
her entire being humming
the winner's song.

Then suddenly, inexplicably,
she's facing
tremendous pressure.

She falters,
stumbles in her steps,
and in that instant,
realizes she is lost.

There is no quarter.

With precision
she is stripped bare,
and without protection
her will crumbles,
disappears at her feet.

Now, completely outside herself,
she watches
her life spill from her naked body.

And as the run comes
quickly to its finish
the Reaper howls,
raising her arms in triumph.

Game
Set and
Match





Doing What's Right

Sitting in the warm Spring sun,
silently playing word games
that remind me of being small,

I think about the urgent need
to begin somewhere, to set
into motion my winter thoughts;
to lean on the coming light.

On the other hand, at this new start
of one more season, it may be best
to just sit and allow my life to simply unfurl.

Is it worth it?
an acrostic

I've always said what needed
Saying, or so it seems to me, and although

It has not always been
Tactful or painless, or maybe even warranted;

Who among those I've
Offended would deny me the
Right to, at least feel my way free,
To allude to the absolute, or play the
High ground in my own defense?

It's true you know,
Truth is just a game.

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