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"whichway" poems
He looked up-pointing ah moon He said You know it was bright and early morning and sure enough far off and unassuming ah moon Not even full or very impressive Washed out if that helps But he got it He knows At this ridiculous tender impossible age That the moon is the moon luminous and heavy full on the evening horizon facing any whichway silver orange ghostly imposing left right high low day or night And when it is black New and gone He's never asked me where it went.
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Mar 22, 2010
Mar 22, 2010 at 3:42 PM UTC
cory
Jack's Moon
He looked up-pointing ah moon He said You know it was bright and early morning and sure enough far off and unassuming ah moon Not even full or very impressive Washed out if that helps But he got it He knows At this ridiculous tender impossible age That the moon is the moon luminous and heavy full on the evening horizon facing any whichway silver orange ghostly imposing left right high low day or night And when it is black New and gone He's never asked me where it went.
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back in the days..... when i was youthful bright longing in my eyes. when life was a desperate struggle based on a whim.... i found myself at a place edge of a valley start of a mountain holding back , whilst .... looking forward, balanced on the rim.... of a new horizons skin. what to do....... what.... dive back into the shadow climb up into the light. walking... on a tightrope of fraying indecision circling... round and round. years of making myself dizzy... with fury and   rebounded thought pinging,slinging, stinging doubt.... about which way back... forth... back (g)round....and (g)round wore myself a groove, with witless, wistful pacing. a grave slowly shuffled out, deeper, darker... valley dark, mountain light, grey grave groove... on the cusp between..... mental twilight........... had me enthralled, everday shufflin... till, when...then.. somehow... i... ceased ...... to be me, frightened to decide.... .........epiphany........ any whichway was better than this..... grinding, ground down groove worn grave. small steps, giant leaps. i found grace was in believing..... found was in the looking, laughter in the smiling life was in the living. direction was merely mindful deception.... coralling random disposition. for one up for another..... down purpose is a delicate preponent, in decsion making choices attitude the fulcrum on which it all approximates....... valley dark mountain light both wrong both right take ..... a step, a leap, a bound, a flight, of fortunate fancy.... ........or petulant plight.
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Mar 31, 2014
Mar 31, 2014 at 5:34 AM UTC
betterdays
grooved down
back in the days..... when i was youthful bright longing in my eyes. when life was a desperate struggle based on a whim.... i found myself at a place edge of a valley start of a mountain holding back , whilst .... looking forward, balanced on the rim.... of a new horizons skin. what to do....... what.... dive back into the shadow climb up into the light. walking... on a tightrope of fraying indecision circling... round and round. years of making myself dizzy... with fury and   rebounded thought pinging,slinging, stinging doubt.... about which way back... forth... back (g)round....and (g)round wore myself a groove, with witless, wistful pacing. a grave slowly shuffled out, deeper, darker... valley dark, mountain light, grey grave groove... on the cusp between..... mental twilight........... had me enthralled, everday shufflin... till, when...then.. somehow... i... ceased ...... to be me, frightened to decide.... .........epiphany........ any whichway was better than this..... grinding, ground down groove worn grave. small steps, giant leaps. i found grace was in believing..... found was in the looking, laughter in the smiling life was in the living. direction was merely mindful deception.... coralling random disposition. for one up for another..... down purpose is a delicate preponent, in decsion making choices attitude the fulcrum on which it all approximates....... valley dark mountain light both wrong both right take ..... a step, a leap, a bound, a flight, of fortunate fancy.... ........or petulant plight.
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