I play the guitar and write poetry because I
have to , it's something I work my way through
each night , emptying my mind on paper , a few thoughts
committed to music , score books penciled in , erased ,
odd collaborations reaching logical conclusions , the first note
becoming the last , a forest fire of a past out of control ,
easing the conflagration with timely prose , ascending , descending
scale combinations , every memory both good and bad streaking
past , the mad writer with his muse on his lap , disclosing his
theory , some nights writing his own obituary , as if anyone understood ,
melody is chopping wood for the instrumentally inclined , something
to chip away the night , something to help you turn off the lights ,
to dream , revisit , reinvent , work your way through to write again* ...

I lost the rhythm, dropped the beat, choked the chords.

I think I'm slipping through,

cemented feet, on the corner, of responsibility street,

and romance avenue.

A famine of feats, a loss of belief, what else have you?

never a clue,
what not to do.

I wish I could go Supernova
To explode
And burn up this crippling anxiety
The chest pumping
Immobilizing pressure
Weighing me down

when we think idle thoughts and ****** with our mind
we might as well just blandly look into the sky
and absent-mindedly pursue the flights of distant birds
against the matrix of blue firmaments
which seem less infinite than our imaginary universe

trying to look beyond that globe of blue
we venture into depths that really make us think
about the cosmos out in space
infinite stars and planets of unknown identity

we soon become aware
that our idle thoughts are dwarfed
by the immenseness of the space
through which not quite discovered forces
propel our planet with incredible speed
to destinies we do not know

perhaps in order to avoid acknowledgement
of this precarious reality
we fill our lives with more comforting things
fashions  wars  power games  religion  money  
internet chats  with other avatars  et cetera

anything to distract us from the contemplation
of insights into how to live
   in such a transient indeterminacy
with a determined sense of goal and meaning

think about it