Category: Poetry

Perfection: my ghost. 
Hard: compassion for myself. 
Hope: loving thyself.

Never enough time.
Drifting between the fingers.
Dreams become starlight.

Weariness, driving my soul,
Compressing dreams into
The edge of oblivion.
Trust collapses inwards,
Longing lost against this
Background of loss, change’s
Drifting malaise consumes
Secretly.

Together
Needing each other,
Concepts that challenge
Our current narrative
Of ruddy singletons
Who need no assistance.

Yet
Our need for each other:
Desperate. Alone, truly
Alone, we die. The greatest leader,
Without others accomplishes
Nothing.

Collectives
Thrive on interdependence,
When one thrives, so do all.
We tunnel into and through
Ourselves, escaping into each
Other.

Mothers, may the appreciation showered upon you today make up for the manifest times you’re taken for granted. “Being taken for granted” means your children have the deepest sense of trust, of security in you, in your presence. Security; that stony foundation upon which life’s brutalities break and fall. Thus we move forward, stronger from love, from faith in ourselves; knowing we can yet still do better. Fully believing we will get there.

I’m exploring some new poetry ideas.  A newer style, based on thinking like a computer; like bits and bytes:  8 lines by 8 syllables. This is still kinda haiku-like, yet something new. I’ve worked on this all throughout the day. Tell me what you think.

Bits and bytes flowing freely hence
Through the megalith called the web
A dance, of sorts, runs globally
Lights flicker upon my dear screen.
Over this ever-watched image
My life becomes this dreamlike state
Dreams dance over my mind’s canvas
Living for love’s completing gaze.

In the Center of my soul
Upon my mind’s lens
I see your future, glorious
And wonderful.

I long to witness it, to savor
Your victories, comforting
Upon the inevitable setbacks.
And I expect to do so.

Yet, uncertain life can be,
Perhaps I’ll be absent.
Then I’ll take comfort knowing
I helped nudge you forward.

Midnight’s dream floating
Gently across my mind’s gaze.
Summer breeze, calming.

I was asked earlier today if I could craft a BMX haiku. So, here is my response. 

Sitting amongst the oppressed

Their discomfort diminishing.

Perhaps my apparent illiteracy

Grants them boldness?