Home » Posts tagged 'place' (Page 4)
You can sense it you know,
yourself shutting down—again
with the change of scenery, again
with the change of heart.
It’s like trying to stop a freight train
running yourself empty, till
all there is is but to explode.
It’s a very empty place to be living.
It’s a very empty place to be born.
It’s a beautiful fall day, though, isn’t it?
Isn’t it beautiful, this
in depth exhibition of yourself—
without the guts, with all the answers
and nothing all that good say.
It is as cold
as a steel locket,
isolation
loosely hangs
two chains from a collar,
white as bone, worn
from the hours, of nuance
carefully placed by the bedside,
waiting to be opened
polished and willing
as obligatory as peace
before, the inevitable dawn
which beckons us to
repeat, our autumnal fall
from the burdens we carry.
Being sober’s
as overrated
as being drunk—
nobody wins.
You just have to live.
Yes, I knew better
with every fiber of my being
I just couldn’t stop the show
even if I’d wanted to
The dancers danced regardless
while the showmen sang,
underpaid and underdressed
If nothing, I knew better
than to give them validation
or the contents of my soul.
If you’re not sure
then pause, wait
and listen to the sounds
of conscious—nothing—ness.
Halogen yellow bursts
of light, turn signals
burn bright, through
white lines of Topanga
Morning sunrise, her and I
up all night, we rise
like silhouetted tree
under the belly of LA sky,
gaze upon a sea of fog
clouds, shower faint
hallucinations of
spontaneous future
Travel
I was never ready
but always willing,
unable to refuse
the volume of the moon.
What looked like yesterday
out a kitchen window I saw
tomorrow and everyday
moving forward
as carefree as
a walk in the park.
Did you know that feeling weird
suggests something supernatural or uncanny
and that feeling this way,
unsettled and mysterious to even yourself
is an extraordinary occasion for
growth and development?
Well it is, and for that, I applaud you
on this ability of estrangement
we so often take for granted, though I
take as a blessing, because you are a blessing.
Love is a language
a well written play
worn like a curtain
pulled closed on a stage
the cheering erupts
thrown roses at bay
behind a closed curtain
life’s finest display.
Words Of An Average White Male 