I wonder sometimes
at the words I place,
of pseudonyms lost
and unknown author's notes.

Thoughts and phrases
waiting in a never mind
that I passed by
when I wore a smoother face
and life was less.

What focus might
an undiluted lens display?
Whose voice would speak
of loss and love?

What memories would haunt a man
who'd never known of you?
The swell of hip and breast,
the sound of whispers in the night.

How might he see a world
where "Daddy" never rang across the room?
Unclutched by grubby fingers,
shoulders free from tears.

I wonder sometimes
as I place my words,
but only for a moment ...
I have too much for that.

I find that watching my son often stirs memories in me. The sheer joy of a cardboard box floats to the surface tonight. Impregnable fortress becomes canoe complete with outrigger and on to a rocketship in deep space. All accomplished with little more than changing position within.

one button eye
is lost forever

When do we lose the ability to love past the point of destruction?

A haibun.

I've hung myself in the closet.
Not from a noose,
but on triangular wire
amongst the other me's I need
from time to time.

Ah, to come home
and slip this self on,
wonderfully comfortable
and free from the
pinching constriction
of everyday expectation.

To stretch and put away
the day's design
beside its tailored mates
in rows of guarded expression
and shaded impersonation.

To close that door
and let them fraternize
in the rigid arrangement
of vertical purpose
without me.

Tomorrow I'll have to buff
the lingering irritation
from the bluff professional
and return, smiling, to work
despite the desire to stay here
in my dingy original.

I have pleasant hopes
of a rummage sale one day.
Filling racks and boxes
in the driveway
with all the bold
and somber colors
I no longer require.

A strangely wistful dream
to be suitable as I am.

Wondering through
the complex mazes
of the wind,
trying to feel beyond
what I cannot see;

trying to see beyond
   what I can feel ―

The echoes of the breeze
invigorate the stillness

The weight
of a world heavy
expands like the traces
of life lived
packed deeply beneath
jagged fingernails

Lost in the wilderness
of my soul,
a feral wind
abides silently
as I wonder alone
from end to end
... side  to  side    
through a portal
shapeless as the wind

Blinded by a collective
bioluminescent light
rooted deeply within,
intimately touching
crystalline fountains
as the deepest pools
of innate blackness unfold
in the wake

I reverently touch
the inward rhythm
where a heart strong
     runs alone …

feeling its
pulsing cadence
    quake and thunder
    in reach …

Rivulets thrumming across
the burgeoning blossom
of soothing netherworld seas

Washing away
all the memories made
like the shapeless waves of wind
moving the stillness

wild is the wind ... 1. 27. 2017

the answer is blowin’ in the wind
Dave Scott
Dec 25, 2016

Too much, Too Little
Balance is an act of redemption
Trying to figure out the riddle
Strong intentions, never regret it

In my mind I'm introspective
Levels wondering about the existential
Erasing boundaries to achieve more perspective
Break expectations, let's go beyond our potentials

Waiting here for a spark
That huge explosion, the puppy's bark
Doing work until infinity
My decisions manifest my divinity

Simple words, complex thoughts
The Unity of Duality
An end is missing, nowhere that starts
As we witness individual subjective pics of reality

Mike Porter
Dec 17, 2016

What mystery remains to me,
outside this final one?
A tale of woven fantasy,
a knot, as yet, undone.

I've delved the core of fairer sex
and paid for truth with scars.
The darkened depth within reflects,
the very thing it mars.

I found the heart of nation proud,
but then I saw its soul;
of bitter apathy endowed,
a blight within the whole.

Companions on my quest have passed
beyond my fading sight.
They've raced ahead, perhaps amassed,
some knowledge of the night.

The question burns, as years go by,
and grows in strength and size.
Inside I see a man that I
no longer recognize.

No more, the sense of wonderment,
but cynical and grim.
Life's music now a soft lament,
its colors dull and dim.

I know myself of single mind,
this last small bit to crave.
What answer might I fin'lly find
by stepping past the grave?

Dec 11, 2016

What is my purpose here?
The entertain?
To save the masses?
To connect through a bleeding heart
to all my fellow man?
Am I here to make a work of art,
or save lives of unspoken souls?
Is there any chance I can do all those things?
Or is this my inevitable fall?

Cameron Banowsky
Cameron Banowsky
Dec 9, 2016

Hello devil my old friend
I think it's time we talked again
You an I
We've had our times
Had our lows
Had our highs

Even though
I can't see god
I have to believe in something
This world is too odd
They fill the clouds but
when the devil speaks
he speaks
so loud

Hello demons welcome back
I've been all alone
Been feeling sad
When we're together
I kind of feel good
Doing things only demons should

So hello Devil my old friend
This time I think we don't speak again
Even though we've had our times
We've had our lows we've had our highs

I don't say to believe in god
But there's something here
this world is too odd
And as I cry my tears fill clouds
Here's the devil's call
It rings  so loud

Leeann Tong
Leeann Tong
Nov 30, 2016

To learn is to move forward
To loath is to turn back
To suffer is to
Fall of the track

To smile is to brighten
To laugh is to reveal
To speak is to deny
A silent appeal

To run is to chase
To skip is to miss
To fall is to learn
Of Aceso's kiss

To live is to learn
To live is to grow tougher
To live is to see your heart
Slowly suffer

Nov 21, 2016

I get deep when I'm lonely,
Evening alone no people have known me,
Speak on my own beat, speakers are blown,
Free seat in the row is a feeling I don't reach,

And don't deserve, from these hopeless words,
My only curse is my mind and my lowly verse,
This daily pain is wrong, that's why I need writing,
When weight and strain are gone, then I will cease fighting.

#poetry   #sad   #lonely   #alone   #deep   #evening   #introspective  
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