Poetry

February 1, 2020—April 29, 2022

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The sun is hot.
The earth is small.
The universe is heavy.
And time goes only forward.
While I’m here, it’s all for me to know.
When I cross the line, all of it will elude me.

February 1, 2020

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I’m fine, thank you.
It is a perfect day in the center of summer.
Aquamarine grades into ultramarine in the ocean.
The sparkling white is in the open.
I look at the waves and I walk.
There are the pebbles and there is the rocky shore.
A lonely boat with a triangular sail’s offshore.
In the hypermarine of today.

I want this day.
In photos and music, in memory and in my backpack.
I face the wind and the wind wears out the mind.
My thoughts flee to hide high in the sky.
I focus, imagine immemorial.
Details defront in bokeh.
Do I mind? I mark the day as mine.

July 19, 2020

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It is simple
As it has always been
I can breathe
And the light is suddenly strong
Spring is a song
With a long fade in
Beginning in January

January 14, 2022

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Remove the chores
Remove the needs
And there it stares at you
The horror
The machine that keeps elemental particles stable
Two eyes glistering in the background
The machine that has sentenced you
Blink

April 10, 2022

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Me and them
We are bent differently
And out of recognition
We come together by happenstance
Interdependent
Impermanent
One could say
There are goals
Trends
But to me it is just texture of life
Creased whimsically
Around my hearth

April 29, 2022