Tuesday, August 3, 2010


July 24, 2010

I liken my mind to that of a fertile plain

where bits and pieces of fresh loam lay

unboxed treasures of picture puzzle pieces

which merge to form coherent thoughts without disdain

for that which might lurk along that close-by supposed peaceful lane

for any intruders nonexistent unwanted cannot stay

therein where gallant words like saddled soldiers on horses

roam and challenge all malevolent disguised evil forces

which try to bring suppression depression darkness to the day

While music speaks to that which comes to rise

as unknown readers turn over leaves before them strewn

created in day or before a changing wandering moon

and dancing spill out before the searchers' hungry eyes

freely existing in a mind filled place of visions new

whose number count thousands more than just a few

for therein is no booklet kept for paying rent

no lengthy mortgage, nor any captive leases kept

no challenges are outward sent

made of hard clay whose one simple purpose is the forming of discontent

by thickening the mix and thereby defeating the purpose of the day

nor weeds be found which might cause any plan delay

which is simply to live and allow thought to play

out as though their singular protective world was fresh

and without any stain to be found on silken threads or freshly knitted mesh

but one cannot in pure essence in this state in permanence be left to stay

No, for in truth it equally often seems

where there are so many cascading song filled dreams

that regardless of the chosen visited hour

the whole issue without provocation can from sweet turn bitter sour

And therein, once the change is made, I liken my mind to a garbage dump

wherein darkness lays about and one hears the approaching thump

of walking strangers coming far too close, far too near

whose faces are hid in darkness, hid by fear

Where places rise up in trash heaped smoldering spots

and then drop to valleys littered with dead ideas piled in rotting lots

without ceremony ever being said or given to let them rest

while others seek higher ground upwards climb over stench and broken shards of glass and believe they are the best

Yet there are left the toneless voices which fill the air with decaying scents

as though unclean mouths all about do bound

while blind and limbless children play and old people at edge of death

search for something lost and think they then have found

the answer in some crushed bag left amid the pile of putrid refuse trash

the answer only to be confounded then to whirl about in blinding flash

trying to form meaning from sentence structures left hollow, left un-kept

and find that meter has crawled off someplace and deathlike slept.

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