A similar purpose
While being different
Offers the biggest divide.
And so we watch
Whisper
And cowardly hide.
Humans evolve
And stay behind
A natural practice.
And here we are
Stunted
Reality simply to distract us.
Category: Poetry
The Game
I think love has purpose even if it’s pain.
After all what else gives you so much to lose- with unbidden right to complain?
Each year it’s recognized- a little more youth is lost
And you add up the experience – while grimacing at the cost
The bends of the mind only squeeze the heart…
And it’s the swollen eyes in mirror – who tell you are coming apart.
Better to have loved and lost – we already brace for little gain…
But in these matters it’s never been about the rules- but how you play the game.
All or Once
The path taken year after year
Changes as it should-
Lest steps seem only foreign
Forgotten is something good…
Sow a lavender bush perhaps
Bring calm back in place-
Until serenity falls in grievance
Drained by ache and waste…
Deaf ears lead blind eyes
Bounded by an induced agony-
Losing all or once
A consequence of your apathy.
For Sake or…
Void of regular emotion
Young become zombies to life
Isolation a given confinement
Self-torcher for insight.
No one knows the adversary
Or understands…
It’s different now
Because reality is what we pretend.
Ghosts walk the halls, movies and games
Solving the next mystery
And deciding who to blame. . .
Then causing new misery
In order to wake up or wise
Without maturity of consequence
Or the ability to reverse time.
So absent of future
And certainty of death-
Merely the sake of forgiveness
Only after true regret.
Be Thanksgiving
To be thankful
Or often naught
Easy to ignore
What you’ve got…
Common place
Thought and action
Always a chase
Missed satisfaction…
One day a year
The norm should stop
A new look taken
Across a table top…
Just for the next day
The worst of people comes-
Massaging egos
To flipping off someone….
Thanksgiving often skipped
In minds and stores
The loss of appreciation
Or feeling more…
I am thankful
For family and friends
And being too poor
To only spend…
Thanksgiving is food
And heat in plenty
No need to impress
Or think of the enemy…
So here is to giving more thanks
And keeping more in our hearts
Even if missed before
Today is a good place to start.
ALIVE
Ashes to the ground
Before tossed by wind
Never what was
But path made again…
Life so tangled
When destroyed but together
Like the worn map
Or lost buried treasure…
Proof is beyond
Noon or now
Within the nuance
Or a Will somehow…
For in the loss
Or changing scheme
Lies a purpose
Beyond what it means…
Life is a cycle
That never truly ends
No matter how altered
More to impend…
So often absent
In the course of our lives-
To stop and wonder
The gift being alive.
Whispers
Soft whispers dance
As though ears hear
Or understand
A place
They tempt the earth
Clearing the heart. . .
To remind of life
And cheers
No empty dance on the floor
Or childless playground
Could exist
Inside these whispers.
Blessed
11:11 on 11/13
Feeling relief
In long suffering
The toll was high
But you made me strong
Despite the lie
Deceptive they were
But weak in plan
Or judgement blur
And I am blessed
With you inside
And family vest
Moving on
Down a straighter road
And better song.
