The former
There are thise who inspire
Just by being in breath
And instead those who make a living
Convincing others to breathe
And neither, truly, is me
I do both
In addition to my own breath
We are not the same
A taunting tone
Uncertainty
Has a landline home
And calls most often
With a deadening tone
And taunts the listener
By saying nothing at all
And yet its calls
And calls and calls
What a prank as this
In my life to exist
Just to answer at all
My next exist
Coup
When you're a former king
Who survived the coup
The revolution which was needed
And now not yet anyone around
Can see you through
It is only a glimmer in your eyes
A jewel in mind and memory
When the commoners glance
At once most readily inclined
To lead
Though they may not know
The stance and posture will
Tell all a tale of what is no longer new
And you, and you
Will gleam again
Anew
This ache…
Ache is something
A sigh is nothing
And yet
With closing eyes
And mind remind
We are brought back to this
This unfortunate time
Where life resides
And pain it finds
A way to be seen
And heard and felt
Most unkind
Is to remind
Of such an aching thing
As this
My hip
Ouch
Billards, a tanka
In pursuit of scratch
Round numbers which roll so slow
And yet fall down low
Into pockets which close out
No game like this ever lasts
Wishing Days
There are days when you wish
For no more rain
And then
The sun arrives
The skies clear
And you wish for snow
Or leaves to blow
Or sand beneath
Or stars above
And our hearts
Are hearts
Which beat alone
In search of our own
Forgotten so and sos
You will never be free
From such wishes of self
Swelling clouds
Telling someone to relax when they’re tense
Is like telling the clouds not to saturate and burst
When sky is condensed
Good luck
Not for want of desire
When all that you want
And desire to have
Is that which you don't
And must wait for in time
Then I will be present
Not as a gift but thick as a curse
As a fog in mind which cannot clear
And a pause in heart which will beat rather far
A drum that pounds in ache
A back bends till it breaks
And this wishful sometime
Will not be tomorrow
And so left are you here
In this revelatory sigh worthying
Is sorrow
Somedays the mountain unmoving is as you
In feeling
Thoughts and water
You can turn off water
Once controlled by man
And portioned by work
Into nicely, well metered, sections
But an ocean exists
And a stream flows to it
And by the river so it runs
And flows itself back into one
So turn a knob to feign control
If your most human must is this
But still and ripple and wave and chaff
But still the water will ever exist
You were never in control
Of both your thoughts and how they flow
You see?
Youthful mentees
To see myself in
So many of these bright suns
Is to remind us
Of when there was confusion
And bloom in the unspring life
Warming place
Chill me to the bone
Breath fire on my neck instead
And fill an ocean of desire
With a boiling pot of rosey red
And in sharing share
And in warming heat
As only these two hearts can beat
Neath hearth above as with heated leather seats
For you warm to me
As if no other friction felt
Like sand paper could scrape no more
But a match here would strike it in its place
For you are my warmth
And now my waming place
Like a fire strategically placed
You glow and crackle round me
And I love it
Saria
Trying to mold
Holding soils
With anew pressure shapes
Into what you think could be clay
But more often than not
Turns out to be mere mire and debris
Yet with your hands you place
And press and hope
For a holding fast of sorts
Which keeps until the sun does bake
But in the end
We are all just dirt in a once timely shapre
In the eyes of fate
A tanka, one dimensional
We human beings
Are known for none and yet
Remebered for one
This mode of being undone
Most singular in nature
Gravitas
Pull is something
You can kind of sense
But not see at all
Instead, it is felt like invisible shores
Like the hum of an electric fence
Or when you find your feet soaked
At an inland mall
At a bookstore failing
Or at park bench where the earth chirps aloud
But it is felt
Most suddenly when you've found
That single mind at perfect being
There when noone else is around
Wanting to live and understand the visions of others
One of my gifts
Is to feel and see
To embody and to be
Not just advocate
But act as an advisor of life
And in pursuit of such
I find
That there's just not enough
Of this silly little thing we call human time
Because my competence calls me
To learn and invest
When really I cannot
Physically specalize in this
For it would take years in each
To be as fluent as I wish to be seen
This is great
This is sad
This is how it has to be
At least for me
Future hunting
A window closes
And you walk once more
Down the hallway of life
Not looking for a door
But another sight to see through
Another reflection which is you
And an opening for
This right future you wish
To have sorted and see
Is our most human desire
Though the glass to be
You should persist
And not waste another moment on the past