A Point in Point

What is the point-

If reason is pointless

If no one stands on point-

Then is the matter pointless

When the point is obvious-

Then is the point less vague

If the painting's pointillism

Is beyond the frame's prism-

Then is that reality

A conform within or beyond duality.

The Fanciful Inchworm

Appendages paired for walking

at head and tail

but alas, lacking legs for midsection traction.

Thus, relegated to inching along

 slowly back to front

Into an odd loop,

that teeters in the breeze,

then front forward

to undo the loop.

Then again

and again

down the weary path

taking measure inch by inch

of the seemingly mundane

and inane

matters of a small place,

amidst the entire planet.

Such is life’s duties

inching along slowly

back to front

into an odd loop,

that teeters in the breeze,

then front forward

to undo the loop.

Then again

and again

until the time nears to cocoon

away and wait...

the ageless wait

of the epochs

and into the transcendence

of wings

in the enlightenment

where the bounds to earth

are broken into free flight.

Such is life’s glories.

The fanciful Inchworm.

Being Strange

Silent voices and lunatics being strange

Lake waters evaporating into the air

Yet the rains do not fall –

The green floors have become sallow

And strangeness just grows there

Pondering thoughts turning into thoughts of pall

While shadows dance with the strange fellow

Carrying bags of precious things that belong nowhere

And everyone guesses to who; strange no one

Knows anyone anymore; the strangers shun

Away into the darkness where strange is being

And all the room is fleeing

From the cascading floors falling estrange.

An Ocean of Ifs

If the cool winds are brazen upon your face;
If the salt air burns your nose and throat to breathe;
If the sand irritates your hands and feet to build sand castles;
And if the crashing waves are destructive to your thoughts;
then perhaps... the ocean's place is not to be.

Gathering's Of Note

The sultry July night of joins,

a syncopated gathering's note,

Where time and distance quote

Reason and tale; both a purloin

With time and place stoichioemetry

Of memory's pathetic symmetry

Waiting the Wait

All the tired yesterdays hanging around,

Like so many a wistful frown,

The darken rooms where the sad party sits;

No longer able to see how anything fits

And the old platters spin and spin upon spinning

On the broken pains grooved deep and waiting

Just waiting; waiting the wait

For another day, another way

Another fate

Waiting the wait

Waiting, waiting, waiting...

Some unknown final date.

The blue skies are now always covered in gray

Like so many secrets kept closed in betray

Of all treasured memories kept cold under the pillow

Away from the blind eyes that can see a willow

Swaying against the window and weeping

Weeping willow weeping and waiting

Just waiting; waiting the wait

For another day, another way

Another fate

Waiting the wait

Waiting, waiting, waiting...

Some unknown final date.

Upon the Ecliptic

Once light consumed the longest day

Then night spoke of the solstice
Whisperings of its amative powers; even as they wane -

The lunatic’s divertissement circles in mad splay
While devils facilitate fire dancing in smoky feign

For dark reds flow of senselessness over painted pains
As angels wait, wait –  beyond the hue in the woods of onus.

Dancers Afire

The old man wrestles with his mind

Because his lost youth implores

The night’s demons to feed the pyre

So that all lost souls should gather to set him afire.

The moon’s gentle silver light is kind

Upon the lurking shadow who adores

The shards lying in the halcyon fire

And the raging dancers within the pyre.

Infinite Rain

How cold is the cold rain

When the skin is bare?

How silent is the silent pain-

If the quiet voices dare

Ask for the infinite space

Between thoughts gone mad

And reason is held in a craze

Falling drop by drop in sad

Recounting of an endless maze.

Transformation

A time of transformation at the hest

Of a moment when talent and skill best

The threshold of the possibilities

And transcend into probabilities.

Steps taken in and out of the stillness

Finding turmoil in the infinity

And ultimately equanimity

As chaos and calm become a oneness.

This I Believe

I do not know

What I may owe

But I understand

I hold a hand

To any one friend

Who stands a foe

This I believe.

Can you conceive?

The Wait Train and Station

A thought –

A pause; a wait; a stop...

A muse-

A moment; a while; a stand...

A choice-

No schedule; no destination; no leaving

A life-

Watching time; Motionless; forming into silence

The traveler’s window

Arrivals; departures; meetings

A painting-

Tracks and Platforms; trains; people

A Poem-

Wait the time; time the wait; a fate