Tag: Poetry

Unbeholden

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Fog hangs heavy over the highway,
draped like the cloak of some god
unbeholden to time.
For how strangely it keeps me in the present –
I drive perpetually into a startling newness.
As though memory and foresight were concepts lurking just beyond comprehension,
I cannot see what lies ahead,
or know exactly what it is I left behind.
Headlights flash into existence.
Taillights turn left or right,
disappear into the fog,
and my eyes can only follow for so long.
They vanish
like interrupted threads of thought,
or memories lost to time,
or possible futures forever altered by one conversation.
How heavy the fog hangs in the valley today,
but I do not wish it would burn away.
No, I would stay enveloped in this mystery,
in the startling newness of its self perpetuation.
Here, where neither regret nor foreboding can find me.
Here, alone and present.
I know the sun is still out there
– still looking for me.
For I see the opaque droplets of the mist
now shimmer with slivers of gold,
and know I must soon return
to the wholeness of existence
– the vast expanse of the blue sky.
The warmth of the sun will recall my hopes and my old sorrows,
and together we will cast long shadows as I drive home.

Ex Nihilo

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I was certain it was all or nothing.
Could ignorance gamble a different solution?
But in the end, it was all for nothing.

Desperately through ashes I was sifting.
Had I recourse but to hold fast the illusion
of one solution – of all or nothing?

Beneath the foundation I was digging.
Perhaps not all was lost and the real delusion
was scribed on the wall as: all for nothing.

Only ashes and dust am I reaping
– gripping, ripping from the earth in my vexation
as each angel that swore “All or nothing.”

Now not even remorse counts for something
– yes, it might outweigh every other emotion,
but it can’t pay this debt of all for nothing.

What is left but hope- oh that cruelest thing,
for “ex nihilo” is ever the conclusion.
Are you certain it is all or nothing?
Can you pay the price of all for nothing?

Concerning a Dead Bee On the Sill of a Stained Glass Window

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How auspicious this apparent florescence
must have seemed at first:
an irresistible panoply of all you were ativistically designed to seek.
But it was an unintentional deception
– the stars reflected in the water.
In your desperate search through each and every hue,
your strength was bartered for regret.
Exhaustion weighed down your wings
as you crawled, still driven by duty,
toward this insufficient facsimile.
Now the sun sets.
Now the sun sets upon your fatal mistake,
filters through the opaque glass
and casts upon your lifeless body
a death shroud of many colors.

Chasm

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Will you fill the void?
Will you bridge this divide?
Or will you watch me slip
into the space between
and tell me
“I don’t owe you anything.”

I let her fall
into the chasm of my indifference,
only to turn and find myself
still on the other side of yours.
Yet how can I cross that
which you insist does not even exist?
Oh but it does and I persist,
and with unfailingly devotion,
carry out your every request.
For you say that you do love me,
that you do want me.
So I believe
that if I fulfill your every need,
you will want
to satisfy just this one of mine.
But I am exhausted
by this process of elimination.
Time, money and emotion
all fall short,
and I scramble back
to the martyr’s edge,
– hear the jaws snap
as resentment lowers
its haggard head.

The Beginning

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This bond will break, it cannot bend.
Hold fast- I could not stop
the beginning of our end.

Who is to blame? We both had doubt.
But voiceless fear is an open wound
and silent answers sold us out.

You are not dead to me my dear
– yet if I feel no life with you,
then you’re the death of me I fear.

But I became your every breath!
So could I truly call it living
if I left you to certain death?

Blood is pouring from the suture.
These broken hearts we stitched together
bleed and stain our every future.

Who is to blame? We both knew change.
The children we were died in our arms
– the face in the mirror was strange.

This bond will break, so leave it be.
It was made for a different life,
and from that life we now are free.