Poem-A-Day #298 : Tomorrow

Tomorrow

Over the horizon of time
there is a future

No one said it would be yours

Poem-A-Day #202 : The Moirai

The Moirai

          - the taxi will ask again - the answer will be the same
there is not destination -

                                                  - the drawing lots is done
all left is the manner of cutting -
          the implements wrap neatly
          in butcher paper
          and polished so tightly

Poem-A-Day #195 : Before You

Before You

It's light in the room or dark in the room
either way she's knitting in the corner

There are cobwebs or everything is hospital
rooms collapse together and furniture assembles
into small murders of turned legs and flat expanse

Imagine the room before you
there were probably others who entered but maybe not

For a moment pretend you are the first here
before your eyes were here in their skull the room was not

The threads of it were busy of course
pulling themselves together for the eventual seeing
but otherwise there was only the void of not

She was here knitting though
blind to the concept of seeing

There is a tingle at the back of the skull
that is the signal that things aren't all right
that it is perhaps time to run for it

You should always embrace that feeling it is
the feeling of saving your ever-loving flesh

It's a trap
the thinking of yourself as the first
it's a kind of magic and a kind of narcissism

To look away would be to erase yourself
the room will unmake walls will not hold each other up

She will pick her thread though
will measure it against the length of her arm
will place the heavy shears to the length

There is the option to not look into the room
to not allow it to exist at all

Though no one has ever not looked

Poem-A-Day #91 : Cole-Prophet

Cole-Prophet

It will happen suddenly - you will be walking
the sky will be blue and so clear - and the path
will be so very easy -

Across your path - a mass of monarch butterflies
their orangeness - paper burning in a fireplace -
they will beat about you until your lines erase -

And your body will cease to be -

Poem-A-Day #86 : The Road

The Road

It's not so much that everything has been done
things are just the same as they've always been

man is man so...

               I'm trying to be nice about this

     but it's tiring to see people make claims about the breaking of the world

and not just sigh...

There is no road less travelled
just roads less defined
ambiguous meandering ambiguously

Here is a story: someone does some thing it doesn't matter what and someone looses their life savings as a result and in anger they pull a gun and the police come and there are more guns and how this ends is obvious to everyone even if it is shown that the thing done is terrible and the first person is at fault...

Perhaps molecules can only arrange themselves in so many ways

                    and maybe those arrangements can only interact in so many ways

          and those interactions can only happen so often

And they burn out ?
to be replaced by ?

So here's that road
worn and clear of overgrowth the ruts of wheels deep

man is man so...
               might as well...