Poetry Monday

December 5, 2016

Here’s a new one for you. See if you can guess what the poem is referring to. It’s describing something that everyone has. A desire that holds all of us captive. Enjoy.

Condition

Reckless abandon,
but really, it’s not.

You’re consumed with something,
and even you don’t see it.

You’ve abandoned nothing,
open your eyes.

The reflection it stirs.
You’re captivated.
Refusing to remove yourself.

You hate it.
You love it.
You are engrossed by it.

There is no escape.
You never let it go.
It is simply ingrained.

It’s within all.

Poetry Monday

November 28, 2016

Written: March 26, 2013

Untitled

There are good times,
there are bad.
Holding on to troubles will
only make you sad.

What are you looking for,
for what are you searching?
Staying happy is all I wish for
you because you are hurting.

I care of your love,
I care of your hate.
To where it is directed,
I cannot assimilate.

I pray for clarity,
whatever the cost.
So that you might smile,
once more and oft.

Poetry Monday

November 21, 2016

Now I want to leave you all a note before you read this. At first glance it might seem incredibly offensive, and while it’s not meant to be, you could still struggle with what I’m getting at. I would suggest you pay attention to the meanings of the vocabulary I make use of, and I hope that you can appreciate a different perspective on this very serious and very sensitive subject.

Depression

A languish luxury
of the First World kind.
Afforded to those
that have the time,

to sit and think
to laugh and rhyme,
with every convenience
that makes life sublime.

They reside in the west,
men and women, depressed.
Leaving their coddled shell
feels like a difficult climb

even when there are stairs
conveniently cut,
but they would complain,
“They are covered in slime!”

It’s depression
and it feels like grime.

It’s depression
a languish luxury
of the First World kind.

Poetry Monday

November 14, 2016

The Fall

He’s fallen
flat on his face.
Standing
in the midst of disgrace.

There he stands,
no change of pace.
No break in stride,
but lost his place.

Lost.
Seated before a vision.
False.
Riddled a tale of fission.

He dares ask, “Why?”
when he knows the answer.
And my god
he chose to romance her.

You gave it to him
because he sought it out, Sir.
You gave him all he wanted
everything he’s after.

Past.
Made a decision.
Question.
In need of revision.

Collision.
Decision.
Then quick excision
from a story, that could have been.

All fault falls unto him.
The one that acted,
the one that sinned.

Poetry Monday

November 8, 2016

Untitled

Headache.
Heartbreak.
Breath,
intake.
Ache.

Unclear.
Mistake?

They travel down from above,
the mind made sore.
The conscience wanders,
farther from a bore.

Hold fast,
be patient.
Hold on,
expectation.

Tribulation.
Question of,
designation.
Any consummation?

Unclear.
Mistake?

Why fake?
There is fear of inevitable heartbreak.
It inhabits its own place.
Its own space.
Its race.
Its face.

Unclear.
Mistake?

Everything is at stake.

Poetry Monday

October 31, 2016

Dao

Universal rehearsal.

Circle no,
cylindrical, never ending.
Whimsical no,
mundane, lacking anxiety.
Simple propriety.

Falls into step,
with a pleasurable harmony.
As does yin and yang,
coexistence in holy matrimony.
Lacking in hegemony,
complimentary symphony.

Never ending.
Increase with equal and opposite decrease.
Flux.
Something equal to Nothing.

It is, while it is not.
There is nothing inside nor out.
It simply does, but doesn’t.
With and without.

Both in and out.
Its resonance is the perfect silence.
Peace equivalent to violence.

Silence.

Poetry Monday

October 17, 2016

Imagine the Room Adjacent

Moonlight dances across the sill.
Creeps through the blinds.
Touches nothing but empty space, save the anxious woman in the room.

She breathes deep, drawing upon a synthesis of life and death.
It is death.
It is life.
It is truth.
It is a lie.

The mind it races.
Confused and afraid.
It cannot escape.
It knows only life.

The life she chose is powerful,
yet equally powerless.
It is lived in the mind,
not the world.

Where in the heavenly realms will she reside?
I beg the question,
I often set aside.