Not
All
is a
Masterpiece
Not all that I
write is sweetness and light
but hard
like a bed of nails.
Some make it fine
on line after line
Some of it moves
like snails
It's witty
It's shitty
Some tell
and some don't
It comes from the
heart
and told
by the throat
Some of it sails
and some of it
sinks
It glows oh-so-brightly
or suddenly stinks
It comes from the
heart
in part after part
and leaves
when it tells its
tale
And sometimes
land a minnow
and sometimes
I land a whale.
|
The Lookback
I look back now and then
to see where I came from.
I sometimes joy
at what I see
The pain I feel
if only I look closely
and remove the fantasy
in wanting to see things
other than
what they were at those times
I feel the longing to go back
to the safe time that has passed
Bubba's Debut, 8 x
10" (She's making memories.)
But on looking deeply
I see the failures
And at that moment, realize
I must go forward
because my mind
has moved beyond that
Such a small insight
And yet
How many are stuck
at that truth and cannot
move from that spot
And so
remain forever
looking back with closed eyes.
|
Geometry
I've done things
not doing
by doing in my mind
Like once
I found this corner
made by two large walls
and shouted at their reaches
that echoed back my calls
As eyes searched these parallels
and perpendicular planes
I visioned naught but
just straight lines
a traveler just of trains
And all I really had to do
was just to turn around
But me
I faced in corners
My trip had come aground
I dreamed of spirals with circles
To fear, I reasoned trains
But me
I faced in corners
with perpendicular planes
I pictured dreams
and made up schemes
with all kinds of solutions
And I rigged thoughts of every size
I made my own pollution
I pictured picturing travel
along the winding lanes
But me
I faced in corners
with perpendicular planes. |