Tired — but not defeated although that was close I thought about leaving just The word “Tired —“ On an otherwise blank page and wh at kin dofp oemwo uldthatbe
It’s a windy day and the wind chimes are reminding me of the tuneless melody that has accompanied these scribbles for nigh on five years. Music is everywhere if you know how to listen — if you remember to listen — there are rhythms in everything that is — the tick of the clocks —Continue reading “Wind chimes remind”
I remember in my dream thinking,yes, that’s a good thought,I need to share that — Now I can’t rememberwhat the thought was. We can be so wise in our dreams,if only we could hold onto the wisdom.
There are two of us here, we,The lump of flesh and thewhatjacallitsoul, consciousness, sentience and we battle it out daily.Something tells me the lump always winsbut lets the thinker rationalizewhatever it decides. Which is our better nature?The thinker thinks it’s himbut then he’s the onedoing the thinking. Maybe the fallacy isthat we are two ofContinue reading “the duel”
I’m telling ya, man, come on,There’s nothing to it and even if there was,what could we do about it?Let it go, man,Let it go,Let it go. (Someone whispered in the night,“No. Fly. Be free.”) Really?Really?Don’t do this. (But they were already miles away.)
I am a gentle snowfalla breeze making me danceand a cool (not cold) nightby the water. Do the deer rustle in their sleepor is that a night prowlerforaging for odds and endsin the shadows? Too quiet for melancholyI cover last week’s snowwith a fresh coat of chilly paintwithout a sound. Not a stirring within orContinue reading “winter”
A poem is what the poet says it is.A poem is what the reader says it is.If I say this is a poem,you have every right to say,“No, it’s not.”And webothare correct.