When at its best, your beauty’s so
That trees and eagles show respect
While mammals gape and gaze.
At morn to eve your spirals glow
And gothic structures well reflect
The glory of good days.
In other places, all you do
Is take up space with hate and spite
A blight upon the land.
Though tall, you offer awful view
You’re low despite impressive height
You’re hideous yet bland.
Ah, what to make of these extremes?
It seems on balance, you are both
A burden and a grace.
We analyze your bricks and beams
As proof of arrogance and growth
You’re human at your base.
Feb 1, 2025
Feb 1, 2025 at 8:42 PM UTC
Philosophy is surely not
Red wine, cheese, and violins
It’s also beer, French toast, and fiddles
It isn’t living men in ties
And women in modest heels
Discussing dead men as old friends
Their laughs and voices echoing
Against old wood, brick and glass
It's all those things plus blue paint
As I try to depict the concept of lust
It’s a human on a train
Considering her own exalted ego
Balanced with the greater good
Wondering to what extent the two matter
As she debates whether to make a phone call
Or let an issue rest:
Ethics as practice
It's kissing gorgeous, hairy flesh
Accepting that marriage ends
Because of mortality
While trying to ignore that fact
It's pain in my throat, that old dull burn
Oh god I want to speak to my teacher-friend
Instead I curse the lack of said god
For my friend is not in heaven
And therefore can't hear me
But try not to give in, I think
To nihilistic despair
Or give death excess power
Let’s not make imperfection worse
Philosophy is quantum questions of forgetting:
What is the half-life of memory?
It’s in fluorescent restaurants
Meetings that break the dawn
As much as it’s in sacred, hallowed halls
With proscribed, normal hours.
The cup’s not half-full, that’s too little
No. Rather, the liquid spills over
Regardless of the chemicals contained.
Jan 22, 2025
Jan 22, 2025 at 5:33 PM UTC
My darling husband, hours away
You dream of me, as I do you
Such comfort isn’t cold.
With borrowed strength I bear the day
Remembering each breath I drew
Within your arm’s safe fold.
I’ll never be an army bride
And don’t pretend my lot’s the same
This distance is finite.
As I live in the world’s far side
In general I’m glad I came
But missing you is right.
It’s right to miss the one you wed
Beneath a canopy of wood
And blue-dyed, hand-bleached sheet.
Our first official home and stead
In marriage, for the bad and good.
By linking lives, complete.
I’m gratified I’ll feel your touch
Not long from now, but still not soon
As I would wish it be.
Your voice and words have given much
Across my night, your afternoon
Your love is me. In me.
Nov 16, 2024
Nov 16, 2024 at 12:24 PM UTC
David, you remind me of what’s true—
In me, in life, of math and curves.
What all our winding actions show:
The over-arching point.
My sight clears when I gaze at you;
You’re deep embedded, thought, skin, nerves
Combine to love you, let love grow
And bind me, cell to joint.
Nov 12, 2024
Nov 12, 2024 at 2:14 PM UTC
I was in the country when the city skyline fell
And in the city when the gunman stepped out
Imposing his malevolent, brute will
I thought, Dear God, there’s no way this ends well
There’s more blood not yet shed, I’ve little doubt
So many still, so many angry still
Twenty young children in their secondary home
As well as six women who share my calling
Had their futures clipped, eclipsed, made naught
We cried, we played, as Nero mourned his Rome
Their bodies fell, are now forever falling
What god would let them stay uncaught?
Nov 11, 2024
Nov 11, 2024 at 2:43 PM UTC
Justice doesn't bleed, or gasp
It stopped fighting long ago
Arms first in chains, then swinging
Were raised to no avail
And now are crossed upon its chest
It weeps, though.
That's the one good sign
A living, broken thing might stand
For bodies at rest can defy the odds
Move again, and rise
Nov 10, 2024
Nov 10, 2024 at 2:35 PM UTC
You scare us, sir
You’re way too wise
And barely old
We can’t compete
But we infer
With small surprise
You’re far from cold
And slightly sweet.
Dear god, please end
This dumb, cruel joke
You’re strong as hell
You can’t be sick
Please mend, please mend
What illness broke
Please make it well
Once more, a brick.
Nov 10, 2024
Nov 10, 2024 at 2:22 PM UTC