Monday, June 29, 2015
Sunday, June 28, 2015
Nothing is ever settled.
But when the dark side of light
meets up with the light side of dark,
we have an abundance of the unresolved.
This does not pronounce of itself in language,
There is no stifle of internal bantering.
It happens in the duplicity of mood.
Either one, light or dark,
is already present and dominating.
But there is a kibitz of murmur in the mind
that radically rattles off a vaguer remark
obliquely to counter the low or the high,
from the towering lightness of being,
or the vast catches of shadow seething as doubt
or the whizzical turn of too good to be true,
to the falling on its own ass
with fronting a living lie.
These as apprehensions of emotive thought
are always about to happen.
In either case, light and dark
there is a share of common space consciousness
and what would positionally be confusion
somehow becomes a settling, not settled
but an acquiesce much about the settling,
choppy but contained,
stains on the wallpaper of the mind
but blended into the prominent pattern itself.
A thickness of awareness
now with many levels,
as a share of uneven voice-tones, back and forth,
but no summation as in a final account.
Both sides seen yet juxtapose.
The world becomes accustomed to beaming and shadows
in every meaningful moment
and yet settled, truly settled,
is now not an option for living . . .
Continuums from observations fill the high of the day
and contend with the night’s co-minglings in dreams.
The constancy is as these undulations continues
long on into the tides of light blinding dark
or resurgent dark burying light.
Know for yourself and of yourself in these ways,
mindfully, fluidly but never settled . . .
Saturday, June 27, 2015
We all lie by omission.
This terrible truth is stalking us
each and every moment of muteness
as if each out breath was a confession
that cannot find words.
Yet compassion fills the air we breathe in.
Society is agnostic with momentous indifference
in the way we carry on
this pageant of oversight.
I don’t have prayer as redemption
but I have love to fill my absentia with presence
from beyond . . .
Friday, June 26, 2015
Thursday, June 25, 2015
I had wandered into where
we have what we have in common.
Although I was disguised as lost
and she was purposely unattentive.
Through the benediction of my senses directed
and she as unrelentlessly tracking,
we have struggled fatefully towards each other.
Our communication is this third party of dreams.
We have portrayed ourselves
as cross-adversaries of the same quest.
In my darkened room,
in my darkest mood,
I take off the costume of my imaging.
I then embrace the void within,
only then to discover
that the mother of my nightmares
has undressed herself in my mind
while I was taking off my meanings . . .