I miss the future
when, if I wanted to see you
I just beamed myself from my dark room
to your waiting arms
we walked for hours along the coastline
where California use to be
of-course our feelings changed a bit
when we learned we were not truly of this earth
but brought from another dying planet
some several thousand years ago
but it was still so much better than the now
when we ****** our own presidents
and sacrifice lives in wars that we start

an old spirit who I passed on the trail of tears
spoke to me in my sleep
he told me that the future was only a dream
and to prepare myself for the end
I asked him how
and he turned back and said
'pray to the souls that your people have vanquished
that they forgive your sins
you spit in the face of mother earth
and cut her breath to make room for cows and pigs
so that you may gorge
you sacrifice your brothers in the name of false Gods
and your leaders fatten themselves off the sweat of their own
with no regard for all man's lifeblood
you took this precious gift and threw it away
and now
even in the face of death
you squabble like spoiled children
ignoring the inevitable
so pray that your children will not face the final day
for it will be fire'
and with that he turned and
I awoken...

****...8:30
late for work!

Poor, sheltered, witless child
floundering under Mother's cloak
shadows hide you
keep you safe
from life
to eventually drown you
in that sad, blank smile
walk with me
my beloved
I will protect you
yet ease you
I will open you to the light
and give meaning to your tears
absorb my love
sense my anger
share my life
leave her somber
selfish shade

what a wonderful coincidence to discover that when I look up  
one of my two favorite words
threshold
it is linked to my other favorite word
phenomenon
but my life is laced with coincidence
my third favorite word
they happen daily
like itches

for instance,
today I did a wikipedia search for Ezra Pound
because my poetry student daughter fell in love with one of his pieces
I find that from 1945 to 1958
Mr Pound was incarcerated at St Elizabeth's Psychiatric Hospital in Washington D.C. after being found incompetent to stand trial
for treason against the United States
my father worked at St Elizabeth's hospital for 30 years
including the 12 that Mr. Pound was a patient
my father, who kept his poetry hidden in a little black book

I have a vision of him
young at the time
enamored with the 60 plus year-old poet
seeking him out and finding him
resting outside at one of the tables
enjoying the simplicity and intricacies of nature
and perhaps they have a chat about poetry...
my father having a chat with Ezra Pound
70 years before his granddaughter falls in love
with one of his poems
a poem already written and filed away somewhere in the memory of a once beloved poet

threshold: the magnitude or intensity that must be exceeded for a certain reaction, phenomenon, result or condition to occur or be manifested.
“nothing happens until the signal passes the threshold”

I dreamed of my father
crossing the fields
on his one-eyed tractor
mowing acres of sadness
heading east of a moon
that'll be gone tomorrow
and I waded the creek
beneath a ridge
where my mother is shearing
dead roses and the smell
of those flowers floating
to the foot of the mountains
reminds me of her hair
and my father's laughter
disappearing across the hill.

If you knew the depth of my disbelief
then you would know the reason
I walk in shadows

all the truths that pass as lies
and misconceptions
feeble minds dream you see
in subtle nudgings off the grid

the comfort of the unaware
is a sharp stick in my side
I must tell these truths in bloodied tongue
for even a feigned look
holds some comfort

when the smirks subside
in the holy bliss of truth
I will have long left the great lie
I will have watched from the shadows
with my children and my children's children
as it unfolds like Sunlight upon the shadowed moon

enveloping the enlightened souls
the few that remain

Hold me as I silently sob
Rob me of my loneliness
Caress my empty flesh
Mesh your heart with mine
Dine on the small of my back
Lack in love as I also do
Glue our pain together
Forever we grow cold