Cool, quiet,and still mornings; alone.
A chord striking, resonating, and going silent.
Pale light still warm enough to touch faces.
A pit in your stomach, nowhere to go.
Fall, fall, September;
Autumn sadness, stillness,
Peace and horror.
Burning, burning, bonfires and leaves;
Passions singing, sang, and then falter.
You'll never know their love again.
The sky is beautiful, blissful, and so are you.
Tag: nature
When Summer Never Ends
A neverending summer is coming
And then, will all of us live authentically
With space to grow?
On a transformed planet
How deeply will we confront ourselves
To become something more?
Our chaos, our need, drives far ahead of our rationality,
And rationalizing our needs only breeds further chaos.
The narratives we believe in feed the roots of our beliefs.
Skies burning, tensions rising, anger, anxiety, malaise.
Nature pressures us from every angle,
Guiding us forward to communities of love and
Societies of strength.
Flaws and preferences notwithstanding,
Will we shape ourselves to live abundantly or
Apply pressure to stay restrained?
They say love conquers all as strength enslaves.
Compassion may carry us through tumultuous times
As Egoism may grind us through arduous days,
And how will we console ourselves when the hot breath of summer comes to stay?
Forests for Empty Spaces
Pleasure, satisfaction,
Common creature comforts,
Health and habitation;
Leave them with your home.
Nothing to distract you,
Nothing to build on,
Bound to wit and wilderness,
What do you become?
Sunlight burning, reddened raw.
Rocks cutting, scraping skin.
Sitting in the biting swarms.
Body aches in all its parts.
Brutality from the beautiful,
Faerie forests nearly sacred,
Hiding waterfalls and sunsets,
And myriads of stars.
Little to be done,
Even fewer things to say,
Letting go for silence
To graze on natural sounds.
Falling out,
Letting loose the inner void
And filling it somberly
With the only things around.
Between The Cracks
In systems complex,
A function unaccustomed,
Between the tall spires
Of civilized estates,
Wander weary children
Unburdened by order,
Creeping through the cracks
For scraps of a niche.
Workers and worriers
Consigned to commission
Could scarcely fathom
Such anarchic fashions.
Scouring the cities
For profits and pleasure
In whatever scarce amounts
Their subtleties can acquire.
These unguided forces,
So volatile and so reckless,
Surviving as a single self
Amid so many societal tempests.
Uninhibited by customs
But restrained by necessities,
Hunger, stress, and heartbreak
Without a remedy or a compass.
Unlost without direction
And unashamed without justice,
The wisdom of disorder
In nature’s law is too apparent.
Live on or die,
Obtain or go without,
Learn quickly or be snuffed
Like a candle blown out.
So the builders and planners
Imposing straight lines and roads
Offer little but questions
For these wanderers to pose.
“Who are you helping?
Can disorder be owned?”
Calling from the cracks
And splinters in the road.
“Enforcements must be vain,
For surely you must see
Nothing can be owned
And everything is free!”
Genesis
Oceans cascade
From unfathomable heights
Into the vast sculptured crevices
Of the planet’s bosom.
Numerous energies
Transmutated by tempest
Thrashed and torn asunder
Into pools of perfect chaos.
Writhing molecules
Repeatedly rearranged
In unprecedented forms
Of which many are miscarried.
Fortune’s devices
Favor but a few
Particular arrangements
To persist amid such tumultuousness.
Fluctuating forces
Pound vitality into matter,
Precipitating its progress
In discordant detumescence.
Patterns emerge
Inevitably in chance variables
Until at long last
A seedling erupts.
Implanted erection
Upon a rugged stone surface
Surfacing into the light
And its first growing pains.
Searing agony,
The flower’s contorted face
Gazing towards the sky
And screaming
“I’m Alive!”
Poems and Short Stories 