Tag: life poems

something in the works…

something in the works…

by David Koblentz ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

a work I am working on… a poem in this case... this is my blog, so no rules, this is an active thing I wrote just now and want to hone bit, what that means? who knows? who cares… I am posting where I am, so deal, my blog is me and me is the blog, lol.. so f it… I might repost this poem 10 times, in the scheme of things it means nothing, so like it or not… but his was the first raw form of this particular work… why the hell do I write anyway…

driving in the driving rain

the car in front of me

is going impossibly slow, grating

glowing red tail lights bending and distorting, bends

driving down that street

passing my father’s grave

(to my right – somewhere in measurable feet)

I ponder the moment,

no monument, delayed by that goddamn plague,

just grass now, still-

a funeral only, few allowed, if only, to attend

so the plague continues to ravage, above

I truly hope, you are not there my father, below

watching, the gathering pools of rain, above

so I wonder

where you are

where will I be

and I wait to hear the voice-

that never comes

but I know where-

I must come.

function. (the nature of)

function. (the nature of)

by David Koblentz ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

there stands no reason
to interrogate the vulture
for we know where
his beak has been
in between
flesh and bone
in between.
-function;
not I, peacock.

question the nature of self, or at least look in the mirror for the reveal… so? what’s in your nature?

the voice we hear in our heads.

the voice we hear in our heads.

by David Koblentz ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

why is my inner voice
not my own?
but I hear so clear
this voice, my mind, my thoughts
a direct action network crossed
the sound of my voice seems foreign to me
not from another land
but definitely from another person
so that is what people hear?
a different intonation in their ear
and that is me- ?
but I can not hear myself (truly)
this filter is biased
there is no doubt
or all doubt
how can I be sure
might I borrow yours (ears) for a moment
like headphones
or ear buds
so I might hear myself, as you do, as you might
but that is not the point
I point out
the doubt
can anyone else hear me, as I truly am
in my own head
in this theater I have led, all these years
my stage, my soapbox, my podium
will the technological trick ever exist
to link my voice to this?

notes.. my point? have you ever listened to yourself? on a recording? damn… I suppose yes, I think everyone must these days, not so much when I was growing up (or not), but now it is an inevitable thought… is that REALLY what I sound like? and how do I converse with myself with a different voice in my head? surely it is not nearly the same that projects out for others to ingest.. so strange, I hear a voice in my head so different than the sound what is released to the masses, that out of balance seems baked into my cake… but who knows? your thoughts I ask ? or should I not impose? as I can only hear your voice in word which is not the voice to which I refer, but yet… which do you prefer?

dilemma (a short)

dilemma (a short)

by David Koblentz ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

sentiment, reality though.
I never seem to have the time
to properly metamorphosize
so will I ever be…
externally
who I am, to be ?

notes… and so I ask you (yes you) what are we meant to be? are we free? (to be?) I’m not so sure sometimes, and others I am a blustered fool spitting in the face of an obvious tornado, what an odd fellow, one of my neighbors has a rooster now, I hear it in the morning, thankfully it is on the next block or my neighbor might not be waking up…

PS: if you have a word reaction to my work, send it in, the best I will tag back onto my post, as a reaction? a question? a continuation ? sure… any of these, so if I invoke a response from your muse… please share…

retreat. (in a mind, or?)

retreat. (in a mind, or?)

by David Koblentz ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

the desire to
lock myself in my own room
spin a yarn for a time or two
as the outer light does fade
spinning round the barrier
a protector, a soft wall
but yet a border just the same
so I might pause
and rest
ahhhh, respite
no, waking sleep
ability, to transform
and emerge
in time
-to fly (forward).

birth… day… (a poem about life)

birth… day… (a poem about life)

by David Koblentz ♥ 0 Leave a Comment
Photo by Alexander Zvir on Pexels.com

So, I have crested oe’r the gateway
into the dawning of my greying age
a fading age
held in the palm
of the scales of time
in counted breathes
and a beating heart
for within this vessel of godly constraint
grows and dies, expands and retracts,
a life, my life

notes… why this song? it always makes me thinky … yeah, not exactly a technical term, I know… but accurate just the same. Angel or a Rat ? or the same ? in the same domain ? so… I was thinking…

fault, and reconciliation…

fault, and reconciliation…

by David Koblentz ♥ 0 Leave a Comment

;fault bucket-
I wonder what brigade
might save
as I pass
hand to hand
so I might learn
to trust
again
for at the end
may empty
my burdens;

notes…. form in a way here, flow, like water rhythm wise, and also I meant this to look like a tipped bucket if you can see my visual clues (punctuation and it leans to one side if weighed on a scale perhaps)… sometimes I do things such as this… the funny thing is that the genesis of this thought, this poem ? researching an error in windows… seriously what more of a dork could I be… but always the muse she is guiding me, on a shoulder, in a vein… who knows? maybe I am insane… all the same, we all are to some degree, depends on the influences we listen to I suppose, I will stick by the mystery of the muse, I will… especially if it really is Selma Hayek...