How come
   the present does seem
   remote and the long
   past as though recent?
   yet looking at the prism
   of time, the future
   appears to have happened
   in conjecture and imagination

   not three
  but a single person
  living in three dimensions
  
  what counts above all
  is individual freedom
  assured so seldom--
  too many indeed
  are trapped in self-prison

  to make sense
of this perpetual conundrum
a long net of life
I'll hurl to harness
the divisive
and have it transformed
into a single collective
I'll know sans doubt then
I've arrived at the wholesome.

If dreams be brief and solemn-sweet
content is in my making.
If dreams be drawn and rip’ed rife
more mood is for the taking.
I’s fine for week till suddenly
dreams crash upon my brow.
Awakening in my running heart
that life is just a sound.
or the nobody I’ve found.
Or all I fail to do.
Or who I want and cannot have.
In a gentle way, I shake my world
inside me when nothing’s really ******-up
Conflict is in my default settings
so I revert once the battery’s
used up.

Such weak light
it sheds

over the table
I'm over you

and I had a good
run until we got

too deep in the dark
woods

of analysis metaphor and symbol
so much so we literally stopped saying

I love you

could we have
should we have

I guess we'll never know
and it no longer matters

such weak sauce

Whit Howland © 2020