Objects in the half-light of
A dawning day teach me
Lessons I never sought
To learn. Lessons about
Impermanence and the
Ways in which our eyes
Deceive, lessons about
Altered shapes in altered
Spaces. They show me
How wrong I can be, and
That not everything I see
Is right there where I think
I put it. They move, they
Change. They are not who
Or what or where I imagine
Or imagined they would be.
Category Archives: Life
Somewhere
We are here or perhaps
Perhaps not quite here
But rather we are there
Where it's a greener or
Sweeter pasture further
From where we were or
Where we thought we'd
Be, enjoying the sweet
Grass, here, lusting o'er
The greener grass there
Placid
The river, even with little ripples
On its surface, is placid and lazy
Especially when I consider my
Life and the turbulence of living
It. Boats actively roam its facade.
As they skim these waters, they
Leave them still quiet especially
If I compare the calm river with
Living on the land, my land, as
I navigate through the maze of
Contradictions and trials, all
Bumps in the road, my path in
Life, uneven as if gravel were
Strewn along the way. Now I
Proceed with the caution of the
Cautious, looking for my quiet.
Passion
Love is a ritual, a
Way of living; we
Indulge it since it
Gives us pleasure.
It sparks in us and
We are urged by it.
There is urgency in
Loving, its passion
Fulfills not just us
But our object as
Well. Love feels oh
So good and real.
Those in love feel
Special as if their
Chemical attraction
Were ordained. Any
Proclamation of a
Passion makes an
Audience go "aww."
Kiss me in public on
The jumbotron and
Everyone approves
Our mutual desires.
Hug me on a street
And the corner lights
Our way. Enjoy it we
Say when vows are
Pledged. This is life.
Envious
The young in general are so
Physical. It's not just youth
Which takes to preening so
Their movement is so much
More languorous. Children,
They're jumping - sideways,
Around, dodging, and loud.
Running into and away in a
Pattern athletes could envy
But I am the most envious
Of their fluidity of their ease
Of their comfort with bodies
In motion, of performances
So simple yet so acrobatic.
Saving graces
We can't save our loves from
Their fate, their anxiety. Their
Path is a parallel journey we
Share. We can not even save
Ourselves. Who can steer away
Clear of the shallows and the
Rocks, of life's pitfalls and the
Dangers that come to us all
From living, through life's path.
We see when love isn't enough.
It doesn't stop our heartbreaks.
We are saved by loving but we
Can not save the other or get
Either of us safely home. It all
Happens too fast and moves
At a snail's pace, we seek and
Then we avoid, tripping over
Our desires, protecting and
Worrying. Worrying, unable
To protect ourselves or our
Beloved in life's uncertainties.
Whereto
Where does the poetry go
When it leaves us, departs
To parts unknown, perhaps
Unknowable? May we also
Follow? Should we? Is an
Invitation required? Is it?
Don't I have an open invite
To drop by any time? Can't
I find the lyric, the tempo,
The reason to rejoice at will?
Isn't inspiration my whim,
My whimsy and the rhythm
In my days, life as it comes
And goes. I can follow along
I can see the poetry. There,
Where I left it to sit, to stand
To rumble in the corners, to
Await a new day or an old night
Never quite gone. It's there.
Cloudy inspirations
We want so much from a sky
Like this one, one that holds
And hides promise. Clouds are
Not cotton candy. After all, but
Far more ephemeral and longer
Lasting, spun from dreams and
Not from sugar, though dreams
And hopes can also be sweet, all
Aspirations inspire us to reach
High and soar. Not unlike clouds
In a sky like this one, the one that
Hides and holds the promises of
Our dreams, not cotton candy but
Full of sugared desires and wants
What we’ve seen
Observations, we've all made
Them, they're subtler than a
Whisper of disapproval or the
Mention of a disappointment.
Quiet thoughts, barely thought
Tucked away, secreted deep in
A dark corner of memory. You
Will know it as a fact. His mom
She was just like that, you will
Blurt it out, no malice, and no
Criticism, you resent neither
One of them for it's just how
They were, are in memory, and
In your observation. There's
No whisper of discontent on
Your mind, no disfavor to put
A pall over your thinking and
Hold you fast. And hard, in a
Strange place, booing ghosts.
Tidy up
I need someone to tidy my
House bring order in /out
Of the chaos. Tidy my mind
Clean out the messes that
Accumulate with time /in
Time /over time and under
Every cabinet and drawer
Tamara, really 