Category: Photo/Poem

Mind-Tired


 Mind-tired,
 akimbo and askance
 the twirling imbalance 
 and involuntary disappearance
 of right procedures.
 
 Lifestyle adjustments gone the way 
 of Rock and Rye,
 longing for pineapple sweetness,
 while immobile 
 within the splatter
 of one’s own uniqueness.
 
 Lost in concussed redemption,
 skeletal wandering in forest
 of pretense,
 though devoted, 
 thoroughly, 
 to donning wings
 and mask of
 angelic impersonation.

Pride


 There was a time back then,
 when the closest to a smile he could conjure
 was a dissatisfied smirk,
 targeting his malaise.
 
 He avoided mirrors;
 
 convinced that his desires were misguided,
 at best,
 he smothered in masks of self-preservation,
 nurtured in solitude,
 exhausted in cast-iron stealth,
 yet
 with someday hope.
 
 Someday hope.
 
 The planets aligned
 then,
 out of the blue,
 like an angel whispering
 a gentle major chord
 that crescendoed into
 a dream of flying.
 
 Now,
 in this free play towards oneness,
 in this avalanche
 his agnostic soul
 begins to call blessings,
 
 he knows,
 he has been delivered 
 from the non-linear,
 when nothing was straight-forward;
 
 with the last laugh of relief,
 he soars 
 into the loving embrace 
 of everything,
 of everyone
 of himself.

Beyond Tradition

 
 Musings beyond tradition, 
 crucial ciphers
 transcend vulgar energies, 

 resting in cloistered meditation. 
 
 A spark would arc
 to create a permanent circuit, 
 goosing lineage,
 while expanding freedom from
 the quarantine of fixed expectations 
 and borrowed inspiration.

Practice Grace


 Practice grace,
 study grace,
 fill your ears with the greats - 
 Bach & Miles & Duke,
 and whoever else
 plays with grace.

 Be the busker of grace;
 embrace every encounter
 as an opportunity to 
 practice grace.
  
 Do it for 
 its intrinsic
 beauty;
 
 and with grace
 you won’t need
 reimbursement.

Former Friend

 While I was walking to catch a ferry home -  
 it was leaving in ten minutes -
 I ran into a former friend;
 someone who I pulled the plug on
 a couple of years ago:
 the friendship wire frayed from
 denial and disrepair.
 
 as always, his dress was casually prosperous 
 and well-ironed,
 though a bit strained under some
 extra weight;
 his curly hair set in place
 with product,
 his eyes tired and porcine.
 
 we shook hands a bit too forcefully,
 with the illusion of enthusiasm,
 as if nothing had gone down
 between us.
 
 I asked him about his succession of jobs;
 yes, every one continued to have a villain who
 didn’t appreciate his value.
 they all started with promise, but ended badly.
 he is presently unemployed and collecting again.
 
 girlfriends?
 a couple of instant soul mates,
 but nothing lasting,
 they all have emotional problems.
 presently single, but looking.
 
 he bought a new Beemer last year -
posted it on Valentine's Day -
 before his latest job termination,
 still lives in a small rental in town,
 planning to buy a house of his own when…
 
 his mom’s still hemorrhaging his inheritance - 
always nothing but the best -
 in the best assisted-living facility,
 still alive at ninety-seven,
 though she doesn’t recognize him when
 he visits every couple of months;
 he is relieved that mom doesn’t recognize 
 his sister either, who visits every day.
 he’s gotten a lawyer to protect 
 what’s coming to him.
 
nothing’s changed.
 
 didn’t have much time to answer
 what about you?
 with more than:
 still married, still working, still living in our same home;
 but we adopted a rescue dog from Arkansas.
 
 hearing the ferry announced I said
 gotta go.
 
 quickly shook his hand and
 walked away before the inevitable:
 let’s-get-together
 or
 what happened?
 
 don’t remember what caused the unplugging,
 probably was a bunch of small things
 that gnawed at the cable;
 only knew that the wires were 
 beyond repair.