Despite the wind,
which grows quite strong tonight,
I lay just fine inside
my cozy room,
Embracing subtle happiness,
like Spring,
Forgetting all about
the night’s shadow.
Until my eyes
cannot stay open.
I’m letting my subconscious
-ness let go.
You’re blessed if you
discover such a thing.
My soul is like a garden,
late to bloom,
Dancing with ink
againt the candlelight.
Rosebud
I guess I’m just a child
at the heart.
Still living life in
late night TV shows
Like “I Love Lucy’s”
showing before bed.
Her theme song would
have been my lullaby.
I guess I never
properly learned to cry.
And you might see
me now, I’m 35,
In happy pictures
from vacations had.
We’re all just running still
– I think it shows;
Looking to find a way
back to the start.
Foolishness
Aren’t we high above
humility?
Like: been here, done this,
done that all before.
Enraged by stooping
to stupidity.
“They have stricken me.,
and I was not sick;
they have beaten me,
and I felt it not:..
…when shall I awake?
I will seek it yet again.”
From mud or monkey,
what’s your pedigree?
Digressing through millennia,
we sore.
I press the weights
of all humanity.
Thankfulness
My routine, nightly,
is to lay in bed.
I’ll write, in leather books,
of words I hear.
And everything is
quiet, finally.
Except for when
the radiators creak.
But I’m in
my Secret place;
There’s comfort when
familiar voices speak.
And soft sheets,
perfumes of mouse Mickey.
I finally find sleep
when thoughts are clear.
And, under Eagle’s wings,
I’ll lay my head.
Miraculous
For many years, I’ve
held, subconsciously
To many things, it’s been
too many things.
Tonight, my eyes are
heavy, but I’m free.
No longer running from
those many things,
From all those heavy weights
I didn’t see.