Sometimes less is more (or so I have heard). I have a busy mind which runs and races. There was a time I tried to subdue this engine and be “like everyone else”… but I am tired of that and willing to release the reins to see where it goes. I used to have strict things in mind when it came to poetry… what exactly is it ? Is there a pure definition? I imagine it is alive, like people, and diverse, like the community of minds here (and throughout the known world). So even a simple form of simple words can hold the spark of imagination, the fire of inspiration, and capture the heart or light a thought… I wonder.
6.16.18
ego
broken
humble
6.16.18
I thought I had found
a four leaf clover
but I had
no such luck
6.16.18
fierce in name
the fear subsides
once you realize
dragonflies
do not bite
“dial” 4/26/18
why does it feel
like my sun is setting
when the clock-hands
only show noon
“dandelions” 4/27/18
last night
maybe three, four at most
this morning
a yard-full
of brazen yellow heads
threatening revolt
5/6/18
I look at my driveway
the only car is my own
I walk back inside
there is no one at home
5/14/18
power lines
bring light to millions
enlightenment to few
“ineffective” 5/22/18
a week
I weep
I pray
I fall
nothing changes
nothing at all
5/25/18
if time is a river
swim to the bank
dry off
does it stop
do you exist
“regrets” 5/28/18
the stem was cut
before the flower can bloom
now it will never be
a flower
“scheduled arrival” 6/2/18
I am sure
upon my death
I will arrive
right on time
“pain” 6/1/18
if this poem is a promise
these words are poison
stitched into wounds
forever broken
musical accompaniment ? Eric Johnson – Fatherly Downs
In the same breath EJ inspires me.. and makes me want to throw my guitars out the window…
