an existence of time...
perceived as -
an existential phenomena...
be labelled as -
an irrationality of change...
stan sand
if there was no poetry, my dear,
even kisses and hugs would be confined.
your lips without color,
your cheeks with no pinch,
the cold crass wind that teases on the ship
would cease to exist.
seasickness an existence without words,
the dash on the rocks
would curtly say: he’s dead, with
no forlorn lover’s expression of grief.
the lighthouse absent
no God present
a wasteland of words
no words at all…
1/23/2020
Sponsor: Silent One
If there was no poetry contest
How I try to count my blessings,
They do little to ease my saudade,
Look to the past
For some consolation,
But the past remains resistant,
O woe, where is hope?
I feel so old, and so alone…
Twenty years to destroy an existence,
Is all it took,
To steal my contentment,
Look to the past for a glimmer of peace,
To the past for a little release.
O woe, where is hope?
I feel so old, and so alone…
On one level, I feel so blessed,
And I cleave to life
With all my strength,
There’s so much to be thankful about,
‘Til I sink back into deepest night,
O woe, where is hope?
I feel so old, and so alone…
We find pain, only
While pain finds us-
We get into grief, only
While grief gets into us-
We catch relaxation, only
While relaxation catches us-
We will be with joy, only
While joy is with us-
We will exist with life, only
While life exists with us-
We will be with experience, only
While experience is with us-
An experience is an existence
An existence is an experience
Like dusk coming, my end is nearing...
it's the end of an existence;
ask me about anything
that I desired to do
before dying:
love myself...
a bit
more?
When death comes knocking as a mad man
I have to halt its hand ready
to strike me and finish me;
there was a great mission
I was assigned to do:
and being this old
is no obstacle!
I'm still strong,
to fight
blight!
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