where the world thins
the trees begin to blur~
their edges softening,
their forms drifting apart
like thoughts forgetting
their own meaning.
suddenly, light unthreads itself
no longer behaving
like light at all~
a pale unraveling
that slips sideways
through the visible.
tree branches lose their certainty
stretching into shapes
that refuse to stay fixed,
as though remembering
a geometry
that never belonged
to this plane.
their roots drift upward
not rising~
but detaching,
as if gravity
is only a rumor
the forest no longer believes.
leaves shimmer into symbols
flickering with meanings
that dissolve
the moment you notice them~
messages written
in a language
that erases itself.
then the trees dissolve~
not vanishing,
but slipping
into a softer version of being~
to a place where form
is only suggestion,
and reality
is a thin veil
the trees pass through
effortlessly.
I suppose she will always have a hold.
I suppose she reached deeply into my soul.
And till now, she's refusing to let me go.
The years spent together just seemed right.
In plights of uncertainties, she held me tight
She reassured me iin many a dark night.
I wish I could, but I couldn't say no.
I'll forever remember the night of leaving.
Yes, I left, but leaving left me grieving.
It's very unlikely I'll ever return to stay.
My life has always been about going forward.
I've always had a distaste about 'backward'.
I suppose I will continue to be that way.
Whether it's a person, PLACE, or thing,
Detaching therefrom is not a song
That makes us want to sing. For me,
It's more like a leaf blowing in the wind.
So when I said goodbye and drove away
On that early night in January of 2022;
That sad night I slowly left SACRAMENTO;
That night I departed after 36 years;
I didn't know I'd still be grieving in 2026.
…it’s all over. A bridge once stood here. Strong and sturdy where we could safely tread and reach the distance, hand in hand, secure in one another’s embrace.
Our travels, as the years went by and the storms came and went, seemed to wear upon this bridge, our hands detaching one digit at a time.
These hands know not a gentle touch from one another any longer. Instead, now stands distance where once stood a mighty bridge. Now dangling rope and splintered wood with an insurmountable chasm between where once we stood, hand in hand.
We could curse the bridge, but why hold disdain for such a thing as the very path that once brought us together. We could curse each other, but such hurtful and hollow platitudes hold no weight.
The chasm is too deep and too long however.
So long, my dearest friend. May one day we find another bridge to cross, another path to travel, and the warm embrace we once enjoyed so very long ago.
Falls arrived with its cool gentile breeze
Detaching leaves off sleeping trees
Calm my mind,
I’ve had enough.
You’ve caused enough destruction;
I am weary.
I will move past thoughts of darkness and gray,
Finding the light along the way.
I’ll build a torch for the journey,
Seeing the light that surrounds those bright individuals.
I’ll reach out and connect with them,
Detaching from darkness and gray.
I’ve had enough.
I sit beneath a sacred tree. Seeking no meaning. I just am
Stillness gives way to clarity.
I vow to awaken us all
Searching for nothing. Waiting to rise above this earthly realm
Detaching from this body’s natural state of chaos
Bombarding all senses, numb
Dharma is obtainable, I vow to obtain it
The child could disassociate rapidly when she had to
She had plenty of practice
Thanks to her mother bringing home new daddies
Some had not been kind to the little girl
She had gotten used to staying in the corner
While things were done to her body that she did not like
She could weasel out of herself quickly
Before she knew she was going to be uncomfortable
Never blaming her mother
Who was usually passed out on the couch
The little girl did what she could
To preserve lightness of her soul
Detaching herself from the scene
At a moment’s notice
When the daddies came calling
As her selfish mother slept.
In NYC where cardboard boxes and bums come from
In the comfort of his brown paper home
The smelly old man sleeps on a concrete ground of cold
Snores alone like a train in heat
Unaware of his left eye detaching to leave
A vacancy sign behind the socket is left, not worth reading
An eye rolling down the highway is strange
Pretending to be a traffic signal is suspicious
Blinking green then yellow is clearly disgusting
Disguised in red makes it downright criminal
Obscene and not very nice indeed
Children want to play marbles
The eye is wiser than you think
Seeing everything through a glass darkly
As it rolls away smartly unseen
"Regeneration 7"
The stories
like leaves
flew fast from
the Tree of Life
on each leaf
seeds dispersed
like memories
detaching, attaching
to others’ stories
breathing empathy
to walking dreams
the frisson shined
to still life
new life,
arrived;
regeneration
7
(LadyLabyrinth / 2023)
This poem is for my lovely friend Andrea Dietrich for her falling petals of Rose post:
FALLING PETALS OF ROSE
Falling petals of Rose
beauty is not lost and goes
nor the life forever is utmost
detaching they speak renewal
celebration of life and good fortune
predicating ephemeral nature of life
reminds death and rebirth
in all the ways keeps beauty of life
Exhaustion drips its weary head
Shrouding me with desolate apparel
A forlorn wardrobe of melancholy blues
Colors of emotional peril.
Indifference holds my body still
Unconcerned with the cold
Distant journeys in my thoughts
Apathy strong in its hold.
Nonchalance a steady companion
Detaching me from reality
Unaroused by what’s in front of me
I’ve lost all sense of vitality.
Inattention stands unyielding
Unwilling to make way for diligence
Insensitivity plants a seed
Growing strong in its militance.
Numbness gnaws away at my spirit
Paralyzed from its greed
Dulled by life’s anesthesia
I lack the passion to be freed.
LAST DANCE
Now at end of journey, standing on verge
detaching myself from emotive urge.
Hereon death-point, life going to converge.
Almost nigh is complete full stop.
All achievements are over, naught to venture.
Long Past to ruminate, useless Future.
Excitement of life has lost its rapture.
Last bell ringing loud, not to stop.
Introspection only invites boredom.
“Listen-Ignore-Forget”: Old-age wisdom.
New Generation allows space seldom.
Feeling shy, Last Dance needs a stop.
Got lots: Naught is mine, all gone forever.
Seems, I am trounced in life-long endeavor.
All dark in posthumous behavior.
Silent secret sigh, I can’t stop.
07/13/21
I learned, real young, when getting dressed –
Make sure your clothes are matching.
To such advice, back then, not many
People were detaching.
Some colors clashed with others;
Plaids and prints would never click.
Though styles have changed, those matching rules
Are ones that seemed to stick.
Not everybody follows them –
You know those certain types
Who strut around with polka dots
Worn right along with stripes.
I’ve got to give them credit,
For if fashion rules are broken,
It means an inner voice (though strong
And clueless) must have spoken.
A unique soul's love
Your love unburdens my sins.
Your care vanishes my pains.
Now disclose my gem,
What better am I to owe you?
Your kisses heal wounds of vulture's lust.
Your words lightens my dark.
Now express my dear,
Since when have you been a feminist?
Your stories make me a phile.
Your smile drives me crazy.
Now confess my dear,
Is this love or care?
No flirting, no lusting,
I feel comfortably blushing.
No confinement, no detaching,
I feel securely flying
If it's the real you,
Too worthy to lose.
What are words called that cause
Pain
Suffering
Heartbreak
Anguish
Words devoid of
Passion
Love
Romance
Warmth
To become nothing
Cold
Detaching
Avoidance
Silent
I am speechless in my thoughts
Dark in my darkness alone
I feel an emptiness in my soul
I am without breath
With one last gasp
L
o
v
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