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I was Found
Under a strong bright light
Voices calling my name,”Are you there?”
Telling me with a smile everything will be ok
My eyes slowly opened, my lips pursed
Giving to all, my thanks
For my life
The sun crawls across the floorboards,
pale and clinical.
Catching my reflection in the hallway mirror not a stranger, exactly,
but a version of myself I stopped
recognizing years ago.
The silence here has a weight to it.
It’s the sound of a phone that doesn’t ring, of a table chair that hasn't moved in weeks.
Watching the street through the
window, people moving like static hum, while I’m stuck here in the echo of the afternoon.
Everything I used to hold onto has thinned out, gone the way of cigarette smoke in an open room.
among the cornucopia of living beings
(in my unprovable opinion
only because said stealer of qi
flourishes all around and within us
from our first to last breath),
and particularly self evident
when violent homicidal
and/or suicidal crime portrays
barely recognizable corpse
as horrible and gross,
or even if natural old age id est
courtesy senescence understood
as the logical precursor
we human beings as rational creatures,
nevertheless experience shock
and emotional trauma,
Hello my friend-
the words arrive like a small lantern
carried through the morning fog,
soft but certain,
glowing enough to show the path
between us.
Hello-
a bridge built from breath and intention,
a reminder that even in the quiet corners
of our separate days,
connection still knows the way home.
My Friend-
how gently those syllables land,
like a hand resting on a shoulder,
like memory choosing to stay.
nobody will cry
cause yours truly opts
for cryogenic sleep (or cryosleep)
even though my soul
severely limited to transcend very high
nevertheless these lovely bones will lie
and affect a peaceful repose analogous
when Bluto (the nemesis of Popeye)
receives meted and deserved comeuppance
knocked flat out cold on his back
with his bruised face staring blankly at the sky,
but unbeknownst to cartoon creators
speaned (an actual word
meaning the past tense of the verb spean
(or spane), a chiefly Scottish
Piano gasps a final chord, then dies,
stifled by the dust and heavy, amber flies.
A table sits beneath a swinging lamp,
where shadow wars with light, cold and damp.
The Outlaw sits with iron on his hip,
a nervous twitch upon his whiskey lip.
He holds three queens against a blood soaked vest,
seeking one more sunrise in the West.
Across from him, the Sheriff wears the tin,
a badge that’s tainted by a decade of sin.
He counts his chips like years he’s thrown away,
and eyes the door for the spirits of yesterday.
Do you hear it?
It bleeds an echoing scream
It screams to me
A blood-curdling scream
A shrieking scream that can't be found
Unless lost to hear the screaming sound
I must be lost to hear the devil's hound
Do you hear it? Louder than before
Could this be the fear behind the seethe door?
It comes from the forest with a haunting jeer
Once you fear, you can never not hear
Grisly tree roots deep in the vein form of a shadowy black wood
The screaming tree is a Witch that snatched me from where I once stood
a lake at the top of the mountain,
… a wellspring from which
all the love of the world would flow
were we in a reasonable world…
i wish i could bathe in you,
could swim in you,
drink of you.
feel your cleansing presence.
feel life surrounding,
drowning in your soft bliss
you are perfect…
always have been,
always will be,
…to me
When I look in the mirror I see more grays
As if the days whizzed by a little too fast
Every wrinkle I see appearing on my face
Feel like secrets and information amassed
Many reflections seem like they are distant views
Like watching earth get smaller when launched into space
Memories and recollections become old news
Losing track of who was supposed to win this race
Its nice to think i wont break
The second someone takes away
All i made a part of me
To be left with the bones
And the soul that so generously carries them
the soul whose used to the weight
Of all the extra words and names, and words for names and rhymes for words and names for rhymes and the melodies that put them all together
like we feel heavier when it rains
I feel heavier to know there’s love