one minute the written piece
will be so nicely posted
then in the very next minute
it will be quickly unposted

an indecisive mind works
on the submission page
switching the on and off switch
with an unregulated gauge  

numerous times
this pattern
has occurred to confuse
numerous times
this pattern
frequently does get a use

before offering
any pieces for posting
the submitter needs
to be sure of the hosting

september has become
the cruelest month

reassembled
hollywood disasters
at their worst
flipped into reality

as if
   we had needed that
as if
   we had not known
      that life is fragile
      and tall buildings
      can collapse
   taking thousands
   to sudden death

what is the point?

to prove
   that one can bring
   disaster
   to the undefended?

to demonstrate
   that minds bent
   on destruction
   can succeed
   if they plan long enough?

what a waste
   of lives and minds...
and more to follow
most likely

does wordless violence
solve anything?

the heartless deed
the glamorous sacrifice
that calls for more
   and more
and more
neurotic spirals
of destruction, retaliation
and revenge
instead of global peace
now looms spectral war
born from self-righteous pride
the need to strike out
   fast and hard
against whoever fits
intelligence-created data
transferred to screens
   meticulously marked
coolly oblivious of the people
   who work and procreate
         and live
   in those fluorescent blips

domesticated energy
serves the omnipotent
   two millionaires’ sons
   turned public enemies
upon whose final global showdown
depends
the fate of yet more
   women
        men
           and children
to satisfy the need
for a just universe
where power flows
    undisturbed by laughter
   and the sounds
   of real people
        living
   in a real world

some music
makes you feel
so very old and wise
so full of aching joy
and knowlegde of the world

it sums up
   all your life
   in sound

dew drops
   brilliant in the morning sun

haunting your memory
   beyond recall

what is this unrest
driving me to take on much
   too much at times
and find content
only in fleeting moments
when quiet comes
to be enjoyed
just to be shunned again
in favor of a newer goal

am I a driven man
   obsessed
   conditioned by
   insatiable needs
until the final quiet
   of the dead?

I do not know

maybe I should
hold still more often
to reassess my way

but though sometimes I fear
I go too fast
   so far
I'd rather run
than stand
and contemplate the past

slowly
we recognize
the shapes again
still hovering between
familiarity and strangeness

gradually
the view becomes accustomed
like in a meeting of old friends
whom years have changed
yet let them keep their essence
that helps us to remember
how we once shared
a space and time
in our lives

eventually
walls become transparent
as we step cautiously
into the new old house
walk over stairs
that lead us
to the rooms we think we know
still apprehensive

they look different now

we balance carefully
between past and present
forever hopeful
we are coming back
to the home
we left
eternities ago