uninevitable

so much is lost
to wrong time and place
too soon
too late
and parallels
that can never touch
regardless
of proximity
or mutual
understanding

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the party

Pink lights with no saber
to cut through to real flavours
Just polished faces
traces hidden
between phrases
hinting at what’s missed
How I miss your kiss
tentative and light
defying the gravity
of the act
dissolving facts
into a whitewashed past

I’m out of place
and thought and time
looking for a familiar smile
the music strokes me like a stranger’s touch
There’s not much here to move me
But I can sway
if I must
just to keep the peace
and stave off sleep
that will take me to places
I’d much rather be
than standing here
with throbbing feet
waiting for a beat
that may build up
and drop
hard enough to
kickstart my heart
into leaving

denouement 

Where wonder reigned
habit remains
and memory’s stained
with melodic refrains
dissolved to static
attractions now
only distractions
unworthy of abstraction
and words just
stochastic noise

Still, I stand poised
against a slow demise
holding out for a surprise
ending

root mother unearthed

Mother of mothers
with generations
nestled in the crooks and folds
of arms, skin,
swinging from gnarled joints
shaping wisdom with your hands smelling of soil
An unbreakable force of time and ages
Etched into your stern face

But I know how that face
longed to smile in wonder
I know why you doted on that doctor
There was nothing licentious in your attention
His knowledge unearthed a cavern where there was room
To hear yourself speak as someone other than that myth
To be proud of something other than the accomplishments of those you bore
To laugh, dance
and shout your name
The one they discarded
when you were grafted to the family tree
To carve their history into your skin

decemberance

you’ve grown tired
and I’m growing old
and we’re both wishing
we’d been less bold
in toying with buds
back when we thought
that spring would bring
enough light
and summer enough heat
to ferment ripened dreams
into distilled desire
that we could harvest and swallow before fall’s call home
but come December
we prefer not to remember
how we failed
tumbling dismembered
only to smother the embers
of our hearts grown cold

middle-aged

Now that our days of inspiration
have been quartered
into unrealistic pipe-dreams
feeding repackaged innovations
their intent subtracted
from the bottom line
and our creations
turned into investments
we watch grow
We now can laud
our experience and hindsight
leaving us nothing but
to contrive models
and devise systems
to explain and predict
the paths of even the freest radicals
and the capital to construct machinations
to harness their energy
to warm the comfortable cages
we build to live out the rest
of our pointless days

daily post: age

appointment

within the confines
of appointed roles
we found space
for a momentary universe
where all that mattered was being
in each other’s presence
and the certainty
that our smiles and laughter
were sincere

I’m trying hard
not to make much of it
but enough to bask in it
(suppressing insidious simmering explanations and expectations)
because while not exceptional
it is rare
and today I will choose to be elated
rather than saddened by this
I now know this is as good as it gets

forgive me

forgive me
sometimes despite
all the history
the statistics
the infinitesimally
small probability
the stark reality
and all my efforts to supress it
hope flashes irrationally
painfully mockingly
long enough
to make a fool of me
again

daily post prompt : deny

equinox

this cusp belies
of winter’s end
though I know
it won’t bring spring
I should learn to enjoy
the warm itch of wool
than wane yearning
for the touch of your skin

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