short dwelling on monotonous diatribal dialogue
boredom cracks
stiff fingers
that creep along
tedious tempo
typing kilobytes
of self disgust
like some critical
creature yearning
to never enjoy
the spontaneous
discovery of life
in this most
waning of moments
sound inside a jawbone
a word hovers
as chained
to the horizon
of thought…
listening to the snow.
a jester of hope arrived and with no conclusion
DRAWN CONCLUDES
A WALL OF COLD REASON
LEAVING
NO WARM ROOM
OR EXPANDING
TIME
FOR PAINTING
OR POETRY
UNDRAWN
FOR A DEEP
AND TREACHEROUS
VALLEY
ESCAPED INTO
THE WHOLE OF LIFE
searching for a lost treasure on the silent freeway
the road is warm
where the sidewalks
roam
past the outstretched
windows
of open mind
wavering
in the evaporous pores
of logic
and the ever sifting
grain of sand
not like this
cold world
of stone
we walked a hungry moon
OPEN TIME
MOVING
AHEAD
OF MIND
YET STILL
BEHIND
DARK
PROFOUNDLY
LIGHT
FEET STEPPING
GRACEFULLY
ABOVE
THE SHADOWS
topsy turvy land
THE SLEEPING
RUB THEIR EYES
AND SLIDE
BACK
THE SHUTTERS
WHILE THE SWEEPING
SKY
SPINS
N STIRS
perpendicular horizons
there are
no answers
here
only minds
in
transition
corner medicine
soft cloud
cushions
breathing
positive ions
outside
the forest is
blooming
a new
color
for every molecule
is changing
as the sky
is turning in
patterns
pomes, tones
and pictures
not
taken.
consciousness flips n smoke curls
mundane minds
mend mediocrity
as loosely traveled
word wielders
wait mindlessly
on trains
without time
to turn and dance
in circles
and rhyme
rocks on four plates
these rocks
ate plants
and
patterned
illogical
landscapes
in perfect
puzzles
like glass bones
in grazed fields
of stone.
life in vain (live today)
what is it
worth
to love
and feel
pain
to write these
words
on a wall
in backwards
alleys
and
seats on
trains
what is it
worth
to be loved
amd fade
away
into the night
of dreams
restless
and
astray
is it worth
the love
i gave
to bury my
hopes
in a resting
grave?
wild river running forever between rushing against rocks makes a roaring sound
'what do
you want
from me?'
asked the
river to
the
tree up top.
'i can't stop
like you
aloof
in your silent
grandeur
stepping
upon
mountains'
the tree said
nothing
the bare wind
whispering
thru it's
leaves.
every house has a hose
only the hose
knows
where it
goes
as the water
flows
from
the holes
in the hose
sea of mirrors
a sea
of mirrors
reflect the
years
in time
we are
still
above
our fears
adrift
in this
sea of
mirrors
pinecones and telephones
this trail
leads
nowhere thru
houses and
trees
and round
rock beds
that ebb
in the quarrelsome
spotlight
but just outside
the night
as distance
beside the
bending
pines
elephants
lean
on imaginary
lamp posts
and cows
that don't
come down
go up
escalators
to the moon,
settling dust
on the floor
inside the
door
going everywhere
back home.
new sail
let me tell
you a tale
a tale that
is true
that there
is no tail
but that
inside of
you
let me sell
you a sale
a sail that
is new
where there
is no sale
and the
ocean is
new.
the leggo of freedom
is a boat
a train
a spaceship
or
a plane
and
the same
float
is leading
the parade
homeward
on
a grain
of
sand
wondering
where
wandering
there.