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Bo Tansky Apr 2020
An unmoved silence fell
Palpable and surreal,
empty swept streets
of billowy notes
frightful notes
making no comforting sound
pestilent in part and unfamiliar
the worst part.
part earth
part mystery
part necessity
part curious destiny

From up above
the birds had
momentarily had
mad had
stopped.


Then had
Wild with a fabulous fury
Unfurled a hurried
Frilly crescendo
a thrilling rage
a medley  
a melody
a harmony
a coming of age
Released cage fury outrage.
A warning whistle
To take flight
I have Felix insight
We all have our nemesis.
The chorus continued.
Then quiet.

The dawning of a new age
A warble in the fabric of time
A fluttering in the unflappable
Felt for and across time
You couldn’t put your finger on it
It was untenable yet real
As if
Time had collapsed
Like a wave function
Like you had flatlined
Like a thousand deaths and counting
Somehow still existing
but existing somehow still.
In the silence.
Of the now.  

Listening
To the unsung silence
Somehow.
Bo Tansky Apr 2020
The morning woke
The world woke
The sun woke
He, she, they
We all woke
Conjugating the morning
Even the shapeshifters woke
Are we all not shapeshifters?
In the legacy of time
Spiraling ever faster
Destinations unknown
Extinction or resurrection
No one knew
Maybe a prescient few
They weren’t saying

I remember mama
Those were the days
Do you remember mama
The days before
Gloves and masks and social distancing
A coronation of germs
Belied a nation of fears
Staying at home
Masking the tears

Do not come near
Printed on the masked faces
A grocery cart
Wiped clean of degradation
Marking the space
Keeping us
Seemingly safe
An aisle of suspicion
Grabbing a tissue
To weep
Or
Wipe away yesterday’s
Issue
The goofy man
Standing at the gate
With newfound authority
Barking out orders
The new rules of late
Exchanging amused glances
With the shopper behind me
Has it come down to this
Somethings amiss.

The kind got kinder
The mean got meaner

Do you remember, mama?
Those were the days
How I wish I could say
good old days

Every generation
Had its trials and tribulations
A fight for liberation
From all the masks
That shaped  
Inspiration.

I didn’t understand yours
Do you understand mine?

I’m staying at home, Mama
It’s where you wanted me to be
To allay all the fears
You never discussed with me.

Are we all not shapeshifters
Of the third kind?
Masking the wounds
Of another time?
Looking for liberation
In all the wrong places
Where all you had to do
Was look inside of you
If you dared

I remember Mama
And I think I understand  
Now.
Bo Tansky Mar 2020
Let me tell you a story
Not so long ago and faraway
In a verdant land of doers
The doers were you and me
And just about everyone you see
The doers did the same thing every day
They did, they did, they did
The doers who did, who didn’t know better
They named the land freedom
The doers in this green freedom land
Were suddenly forced to stop doing
They looked everywhere for something to do
Everything had already been done
There was nothing for all the doers to do
What to do?
What to do?
They lamented
If we can’t do this or that
What, then, is there to do
To the doers doing was everything
So, they did
The only thing left to do
They did nothing at all
And then something magical happened
You guessed it.
They found what they were looking for
It was everything!
It was always there
Hiding in nothing

The last place they thought to look
Stunned
The doers looked at one another
Was it even possible?
How is that possible?
When the doers thought about it
It was always staring them right in the face
Of course
Of course,
they thought
It was so obvious
The doers found
What they didn’t even know they were looking for
It was nothing at all
It was just something to do
And to the doers
That was everything.
LOL
Bo Tansky Mar 2020
Remaining in a state of suspended animation
While life goes on before me
But I, like the thinker
That stonecold
Untouchable
Nobody
That resides
In the stonecold
Emptiness of nothingness
Strangely where it all began
Void of my happiness
And touchiness
A nothingness
That knows itself as everything
Who are you?
You pretend to be God
All knowingness
Then you pretend to be me
All neediness
Who are you?
I have pled
And I have pleaded
And beseeched your help
You kept the mirror held up
I didn't fall in love
With me

So, I’m asking you, God
They tell
Do tell
You tell me
To love me
You love me
Till I love me
We can never be
Then why God did you create me?
For company?
Please answer me.
Bo Tansky Feb 2020
I am that I am
Not what I am not

Just the same
Looking down &
Flying low
The angel of intention
Wants you to know
Of all the millions,
Trillions of stars in the sky
You are the lone star
That knows why
You prayed for a reason
It wasn’t the season
As reason is the long way home
And you’ve been so long alone,
And
You see the why for and the how
And the love that is now.
The season of reason has come and gone
No abstract equation
Tome of persuasion
Looking for answers
Out there occasion
Can be found.

To be
The love that is now
That knows no limits
Eternal and limitless
Somehow
How forgiveness is meaningless
Your innocence is all that I see
Into the green, some scene somewhere
I’m never alone
Without you
I think I’ll go on living
What for?
Is life worth living?
Down to the bitter end
An illusion or metaphor?
Each day worth waiting for
I know not what
Have no answers,  
Only questions.

Love
Can I call you mine?
Are you a force?
A river that can’t be stepped into twice
Never the same
But, glorious
  
I hope you forgive me my sins, then
As I know there are many
If only I knew
What to do
Believe me, I’d do it
  
A kernel of truth offended
Upended you
I never meant to hurt you.
I’m trying to be more like you.
I put on my man shirt
And man pants
Refused to dance
And didn’t say a thing
Will that do?
Perhaps you’ll say
What’s gotten into you
Mirror on the wall
This isn’t like you at all
I know, I know
I just don’t know what to do
I’m a little lost
Without you.

  
I’m grappling in the dark
With multiplicity
Shattered pieces of my broken reflection
Sugar-coated intention?
Angels are creatures of invention.
I thought you knew
A treaded needle
To sew the discord
A recurrent chord to please
Amplifies my ardor
And then I want to kick you
Into kingdom come
Wishing it over and done

Crowds of chaos and
Cranial confusion
Contusions of caked-on batter
A battering ram
Aimed at my head
I’m dead
To all the illusion
Stuffed in a too-small space
And all the other ones
Like counting crumbs
Coming home
Labeling all the soup cans
On the pantry shelf
For future reference
Bringing the outdoors in
Where windows of light
Singe the demons of the dark
Conspiring to keep apart
My hopeless heart
Hurts
Although I know
We’re all one
Why do I feel so separate and alone
One mind creating fairytales
Out of pixie dust
Out of stone
Will my time ever come?
Are you still on the run?

It doesn’t seem to matter anymore.
Bo Tansky Jan 2020
Laughter and rueful tears
Welcome to the party of pity  
Where all is not, not as it appears
Where there, come as you are
And not as you appear to be
The child is clinging to you
Warmed by the fire of your fears
I have felt the chill
In your stone-cold eyes
Telling me
Not to come near
But nay
Pass the event horizon
A confluence of consciousness
Beckons me there
Like vapid air
Felt the nothingness there
Swept without resistance
Where the fires of love’s ardor
Threaten your very existence
While the abyss of your lair
Laid bare
Loves insistence
The coat closet of your don’t-mind
Where there
Is no room there
To let
Nothing to know
Nothing to let go.

A cosmic joke or masterstroke?

Squeezed between now and forever
A rosary of pearly nows
Denizens of now
Needless
Of refection, reflect
Somehow
Lost in the dark abyss of nothingness
You find your way out
Somehow.
Bo Tansky Jan 2020
1.
The child is petulant
The terrible twos
Lasted 42 years
Then along came the teenage years
She was always in tears
It’s not that baby
Refuses to grow up
Doesn’t want to grow up
Maybe she’s scared
Somebody gave the baby a bottle
She seemed fine for awhile
Then something erupted inside her
Where did that come from?
Where is it going?
How long before we get there?
Are we there yet?
How long before we get there?
On and on and on
The baby never shuts up
Blah, blah, blah
Then along came the tears  
Then blah, blah, blah
You can hear her even when she isn’t saying anything
That’s when you hear her the loudest
She doesn’t understand what you mean
Are you trying to tell her
She’s not good enough?
What does a baby know about not being good enough?
She only did what comes naturally
And signed it with love
No one believed her
Well you know how kids are
Short-term memory
And all that
She’ll forget about it
Sooner or later
Maybe then she’ll learn some manners
Learn to not speak her truth
Learn to pretend
Like everyone else
You don’t trust her
You should trust her
She never lied to you
She’s so bothersome
Why be bothered
Shut up
Shut up
Shut up
Would it be better if she said
Hush
Hush baby
Don’t cry, darling
I’m here
I’ll always be here
So hush
Don’t cry, baby
Baby don’t cry
(That works)
Go where you want to go, darling
I’ll always be there for you
(that works even better)
2.
Will she ever come out of the shadows?
Reminds her of a spooky soap opera
The Shadows
“The shadows don’t lie”
In a Rod Sterling voice
She never watched soap operas
Except at a Chinese buffet
As a captive audience
On a barely audible screen
Slurping Chinese noodles
Almost better than spaghetti
Don’t cry, baby
Don’t cry
It’s just a story
A narrative
Not necessarily true
But true if it’s true
Not out of necessity
True
Forget it
She’s crying again
She just feels sorry for herself
All the time
She’ll get over it
Babys always do.
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