"disects" poems
my clockwork's not quite working right, but it's too late to fix me
they can't see breaking from the outside, they only see I'm living.
Moments; twitches,
they told me I must be careful not to rip my stitches.
Not yet turned to rust inside---
I've been waiting for the moment---
to join the glorified
the few
the beautiful
the delicate souls who cry like mine
those so filled up with life they died;
too attached to the delicate sway of life to live
to connected to the pulse of earth to give and walk about on
two feet, called bipedal motion, supposedly coming about as our ancestors moved from arborreal terrain to grasslands, some millions of years ago...
Science disects the tangible, but we've yet to find diamonds in our eyes that might cut what we cannot hold.
And so we'll never understand our souls.
If it has no bones can it break?
can it shatter if you shake
it too hard, will it fall off of its shelf?
Is our soul collective, or only in the self.
it's clockwork, pure clockwork
we're wound up and allowed to wind down
out
understanding that gears might fracture
misfire
malfunction
give out
go backwards
then perhaps even forwards again
how tightly are you wound?
or lubricated, my friend?
could you use a helping hand? a smack to get you going
the question's not where
nor when
nor how
nor apparently even... whether our insides are showing.
Break me down like clockwork,
take me to a shop but
they'll only shake their heads and tell you
this models got no replacement parts
best throw it away
get a new one
but I can't.
This ticker's all I've got.
it can't go backwards sideways or in circles
but time
travels
and I'll work it until I drop
May 15, 2013
May 15, 2013 at 2:03 AM UTC
Simply seeking solace in bouncing thoughts
Feeling warmth in that cold rock
Characterizing an uncharacteristic dribble
Watching it flow with no discourse
Or even disguising a movement to share
A leaf finds its mark now one wagers thought
Dogs bark rattles empty can in alleyway
Moonlight disects that churning in passerbys charts
While blowing winds shift around reason
Heavy hearts languish at the next whistle stop
Many will board to simply stare back
At others who dare when not to park
Jan 3, 2016
Jan 3, 2016 at 10:10 AM UTC
there is this photo....you see
of pretty much nothing...of
nowhere....at least....
nowhere i know...
the skies are blue, with
a cotton balling of
innoccuos clouds
it seems as tho the weather
would be pleasant there.
there is a gray-blue-rock
covered track, well road, that roughly disects the photo,
beginning right in the centre at the forfront
and then wending off
to the right behind a small hill.
the track would be wide enough for a small car
or cart
but is in the picture
devoid off traffic.
as is it's smaller,
companion walking path, terraced and to the left of the road.
cut about six foot below the road persay
to the right, a spindly tree
of indeterminate species
then, stretching off to the photo's edge,
green grasses, roughly, cropped low by machine
or beast.
to the left, once again below,
the walking path,
a swathe of green
and then, an expanse of water,
loch, lake, river,
i do not know,
but it is wide and slow.
there are no,
watercraft, no birds,
to be seen.
just water, greenery,
a spindly tree
and the two tracks,
leading to god knows where and coming from, behind
the lense.
but right now, the ambiguity
of destination, the lonliness
of the landscape are appealing, enthralling, even.
there is a dichotomy,
in the fecund greeness of the grass,
opposed to the, apperent,
barenness of the lake.
and in the disection of the pastoral scene, by man made road, there is disruption,
there is choice.
to, cant to one side,
or the other.
there is choice to, go forth into the unkown.
or to, retrace one steps
on the road behind.
it is a photo,
that while not
bucolic in nature,
is pleasant
that is well framed,
....that is the one...
you take when you
want to finish the roll of film,
or these days fill the memory card...
why it has me,
fascinated at present is ...
it is a photo of somewhere... that is not here...
it is a photo of somewhere...
where, the possibilties are new,untried...not impossible
.......where the grass
.......is greener...where the grass is greener...where the grass is.....
Apr 28, 2014
Apr 28, 2014 at 4:10 PM UTC
I could speak endlessly on how this is my all to u
give u summer on cold days
A fuzzy breez on hot nights
So u can gaze moonlight
At the sound of phonic melodys
With no expressed limitations
Abstract sounds ,physical bodies nd mental objects
Everything
This is me giving u everything, giving u everything
Timeless univers
Myraid paradise
In disguise
For you hypnotize
The true nature of existance
That with my last breath ,to death flown
I surrender my soul
This is me giving u everything
Giving u everything
Giving
Giving giving u everything
An ocean full of emotion
Thy absence causes distortion
Disects my world into two
Phases that cease fatality
Thus in this reality
I seek not Oder but to give
This is me giving u everything
Everything giving u everything
Feb 7, 2014
Feb 7, 2014 at 4:04 PM UTC