Diminished is My Way

I could exhaust many a thing

the stinging, pelts of rain

the ferreted holes to the world below

strident waters, black and deeper than thought

matter deliberately flung to the ground

yet, cannot be sought.barren tree

Diminished is my way when I am not free to walk.

In transient, stillness down a one way path, I find myself unable to look back.

I could exhaust many a thing

never to repeat all that is scattered behind me.

Ordinary Still-Life

Grizzled houses desperate in need for a weary, traveler’s feet.

Hanging to chasms of rubbish buried with half burned tin cans…

the cleavage of crippled, front doors

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Bygone…ordinary, tarnished, steel coat pegs.

and

forgotten ice skates

and the one cent stamp.

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A room.

A community not centered.

A destination of ordinary.

A place of my own…

A house kept in my withering hands…with a body in similar repose.

Dust in day by day.

Secretly I will drive it away.

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Stepford Strangers

Belly to the bar

this is the place i could go

dancing in destiny’s afterglow

in a forest of folk and lore

cardboard sayings for a cure

no race to be won in the land of papered, big, book, restraint

in this dance life strolls with a limp

sobering how i get around…when drink is down

iron seats bequeathing intimate strangers

all making calls…24 hours a day…to other confidential visitors

each of us with our own bumper sticker philosophy

Dame Nature

Modest and without presumptions, pursue nature with truth.

In the lush scenery step as though, progress is not a need.

Tread with the style in which…Dame Nature deems courtly

Picket fences no longer impede progress. no more than wilted, emerald…

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Love Before

A preacher’s hands, faded from dust and copper.

An orator’s trade loud with the sounds of rustling hearts.

Let you love now…

For you knew not love before.

And, imageedit_6_5466770984

If you love now.

Love,

love,

some more.”

“For love is never doomed to be mourned.”