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Archive for the ‘sadness’ Category

knocking my head against

the wall
pounding ‘till i don’t feel it
anymore

why don’t i turn the other
way
round

no wall
on a curved surface
space/time is not flat

why do my thoughts get
written in script

lies

so close to the plane of a page
when i want to reach though
the surface

break though
more suitable atmosphere
feeling myself in all dimensions

moving my body to breathe

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the first snow came
hard
before all the leaves had fallen

no red, orange and yellows
some still cling
lifeless
ghostly green
to the branch

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what is the sound of one hand clapping
how do you know when a fitted line

fits

every step forward
brings loss in its wake

tears of joy

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once us
is no us
no you
no me
just little i

alone

time to turn and go

lover‘s steady subtle scorn
as open handed strikes
leave lasting contusions

chaos
confusion

time to turn and go

words stick
unpsoke’
no good good-bye to tell
no way to dodge

the damage caused

time to turn and go

blue purple bruises
deep inside me

– i see –

when i see
just little i
at last alone
allowed to be – just me
words unspoke’ unlisten’d choked

no good good-bye can be

i

find the strength now
don’t look back now
and i
turn and

go

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passing my past
on each corner
where i’ve walked
walked
walked

before

years of moments
on these streets

the urban landscape changing
stop motion film
my life plays out
again
again

again on these streets

what was i then
who am i now
concrete questions

i have seen these buildings go up
and down and
down and up

again
again
again

changing with the decades

and me
how have i been transformed
walking by these
shifting structures
five decades worth of

now

all this inside me
changes’ richness
moments collected
bricks up down

down
up

sidewalks once
new

now

cracked with age

five decades worth of
eye’s  inspecting
ear’s composing
finger’s touching
feet feeling earth

texture gravity evolution

making sense

five decade’s consciousness resonate still

this deep breath

memory pulled to present
open soft eye’d vision
from then to

now

all who’ve walked
who walk with me now
all their recollections
sensations sensed

pulse

breath

connected
dancing random patterns
constant metamorphosis

web of life

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when there is no thing

we share
we share

nothing

not the nothing of ease
not the nothing of freedom
not the nothing of carrying water
or cutting wood

but the crushing nothing
the no thing
of no line
to complete the other
lines
of the poem

the nothing of

no pair
of parallel
eyes
to see myself
being seen
or to see
with mine

the
nothing of just me

‘till…

seeing with these eyes
completing that verse
finishing those chores

the no thing becomes

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what is here
in front of me
clean and dirty laundry

cats

throwing treasures to the floor
recorded music resonates

my sadness

if i think about detachment

don’t own the un-mated sock
or the dishes
in the sink –
if i don’t own the cats
clawing at moths

and ripping the screen

do i own my sadness

what is there
behind me

wake
distinctly discernible
patterns of pain
expectations, explanations, reasons and rational
big because-es

do i own my past
my sad specters

what is here
in front of me

cloudy morning
music
cats moving inside
breeze outside
hear the summer
soak in the green
fractal and chaotic patterns

of living leaves

do i own my future
my sadness sits

i watch it
i will not will it

it moves
on its own time
no different than
the cats
the leaves
the breeze

the dishes

the clean and dirty laundry

the solitary sock

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feeling my role like a method actress
looking for the cues
to find my entrance
knuckles knock
on too many locked doors

twenty-seven small bones
sore in their sockets

No, no, no, no
No, no, no, no
like the Fifth begins with a knocking
it’s not closed in a closet
not – not – not  — there
not – not – not  — there
not in these twenty-seven
flanges – knuckles and fingers
not held

but in the twenty-six or twenty-eight
(depending on how you count…)
bones of my feet
grounded
connected
standing
accepting and supporting
my souls on the earth

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i wake with a huge emptiness in me
i walk – try to lessen it
treading this path
by the stream

these unbearable feelings
must be looked at
searched out like hands in a dreaming

standing this painful ground
until i can rest within unblinking view of the sink holes
that broke me and made me lame

can’t the birds in these woods speak for me –
speak in tongues
spiritual songs

unexpected staccato
one low note repeated rhythm
woodpecker’s
determined hammering
breaks through

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what is the name of that bird
individual of a species
clear and longing
midsummer song
sung

as twilight closes
or dawn opens the day
chorus crescendos
adagios of aching

this bird
and its brethren
intone and chant
long whistle and quick cry
calling and calling
addresses to the edge of light
then quiet

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