The edge of eternity
often obscured
lost in plain sight
just beyond
Until cutting through
a moments grief
immortalized
in song
Leonard Cohen and
Bob Dylan as one
freeing new spaces
inside
Where lost in
the maelstrom
alone disavowed
— the best of ourselves tries to hide
(The New Room: January, 2026)
He, always alone in a crowd
she, always the centre of it;
they always arrived together
then part, he so quick disavowed
she traipsed to the men, in a flit;
he ever held on a tether.
And when they withdrew, he and she
there was no longer two, but three.
Mother tongue held in such high regard, not only words, tone is known.
Beating chests signal the end, well maybe in the mind of the ignorant.
Broken glass, and sweeping rubble make for the coldest of soundtracks to the nightly news.
Failing to heal without the bandage of community, fractured are the few.
Discontent and disavowed makes for passing headlines, while we continue to pull together to heal like ointment on a grazed knee, of a child fallen from a tree, or the swollen flesh of a arm got by an ant, wasp or bee.
Talking, listening isn't all that we need?
A Wolf Waits
Early one morning
reason escaped
And prescience went with it
unlocking the gate
Lights in the asylum
flicker and fade
The inmates grow restless
a deepening shade
Evening brought darkness
no stars in the sky
But nobody wondered
no questioning why
The moon simply vanished
a wolf waits to howl
All order disorder
—with thought disavowed
(Dreamsleep: December, 2023)
Spinning The Cylinder
When does intelligence
turn on its host
Killing the patron
leaving a ghost
Russian roulette
in a game zero sum
Perception reloading
—acuity’s gun
(Dreamsleep: December, 2023)
Quantum Leap
Life beyond numbers
images reign
Killing all reference
lost in refrain
Gaming the theory
zeroing out
Counting symphonic
—Angels about
(Dreamsleep: December, 2023)
Silence breeds a droning bunch,
a blackened kettle, a stolen lunch.
The dismal lead while sheep give chase,
a silent echo, a spoofed embrace.
Abandoned youth viewed once again,
a manifest of mice, not men.
Hypocrites now preach the word,
murdered lines and vision blurred.
Despair entangles a shallow light,
disavowed, this tale they write.
A painted faux becomes the rage,
dyed and bleached on every page.
A conjured trick becomes their ruse,
theft and fraud showcase thy muse.
Invisibly, the truth is moot,
concealed in dirt, this hidden root.
Given to rejoicing of her talent,
but born neither for this time nor this world,
when doves cry: knowledge of her is latent,
in the raw state and unfettered hurled
at a pseudo adoring, fickle crowd.
But born neither for this time nor this world,
she rose above the petty disavowed
that was the hallmark of entertainment.
At a pseudo adoring, fickle crowd
she bowed as though in ecstasy contentment.
With the bright lights trained on her every move,
that was the hallmark of entertainment,
there was no escaping and had to proof
her right to existence in a quandary.
With the bright lights trained on her every move,
no one respected privacy boundary.
Given to rejoicing of her talent,
her right to existence in a quandary,
when doves cry knowledge of her is latent.
If really getting high, is just your thing…..
Just get some white powder at the West Wing.
I mean, after all,why the heck not?
And one granddaughter of the POTUS may not come in?
Is disavowed his name as if she committed mortal sin.
At Christmas, when the White House is decorated,
Her presence as on ALL days is strictly forbidden.
But laws favoring Communist China will be written!
7/4/2023
He squandered time, left fields unplowed,
in search of highs, pursuing thrills,
neglecting that he'd been endowed
with gifts to cultivate and till.
He wandered where his heart did please,
but pleasure slipped by small degrees.
A random walk, no certain line:
the storms in life were kept at bay.
But with no star to point or shine,
he, ere awares, had lost his way.
Once jubilant, his raucous dance
had brought him to a wide expanse.
There in the field, he saw them toil;
relentlessly, they stored away
the harvest so as not to spoil,
to see them through a future day.
He should have marvelled at their craft;
instead, he skipped off with a laugh.
The weather turned, conditions grim;
he found no respite from the storm.
A fleeting thought occurred to him:
that colony was nice and warm,
but having not the strength to fight,
succumbed, unconscious, to the night.
The ants took pity: although he
was thirsting, cold, and oh so thin,
and time would pass before he'd be
industrious, they took him in.
"Why wasn't I just disavowed?"
he wondered, this time not so loud…
As the quiet night awakes me
Catching my shallow breath
My heart cries lonesome sorrow’s plea
As tears roll silent death
You are gone away now
To wars and soldier’s vows
My heart lies disavowed
Come home in dreams so tenderly
As the quiet night awakes me
February 16, 2022
Quietus Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Unseeking Seeker
The mind was old before it came upon you,
it took your shoes
made you walk upside down
in an inverse eye.
Pray tell, is all well?
Now expostulate your lip tripe
and see if any much broken soul
cares.
Keep your trapdoor mind,
your garmented flapping pockets
so full of the disavowed,
the cancelled out widow weeds
of fake sorrow.
Be not evermore, be not even now.
As always there is much to be taken back.
Also & nevermore recorded,
the mind sticks, picks at scabs,
wanders away forgetting.
Thunder, you full throated seas,
thunder in the full and swollen veins.
Tell us what words hate,
tell us, be not so mute as a rabbit
fox cowered in a shivering burrow.
The baby crib was born to whimper.
The baby lamb pushes at the nipple
whimpers just the same.
Wimple and weft, leave the weeping
to the sanctified, the sacrificial.
The mind was old before it came upon you.
It took your shoes
made you walk upside down
in an inverse eye.
Pray tell, is all well?
Now expostulate your lip tripe
and see if any much broken soul cares.
Boxes of emptiness rattle their lids,
all of them would fit into the blundering,
never before seen sundering
of man in woman and woman in man,
a devil in an unmarked van.
Keep your trapdoor mind,
your garmented flapping pockets
so full of the disavowed,
the cancelled out widow weeds
of fake sorrow.
Be not evermore, be not even now.
As always there is much to be taken back
from nothing.
So much of what is frothy babble
is laid before us as a truth when in truth
it is but frothy babble.
Each shiny coin newly mined and minted
with a fragrance green as the grasses
passes for a personage we would gather.
Coins as friends,
Ends justifying means,
The aftermath of fruitful beans.
Upon a curved light borne
he hones his friendships
as slivers of glass.
Reflections all so tall
and all so disavowed;
nor allowed the looser noose
of the absolute.
What is that fragrance passing
for a freedom.
What is that passing need
as the world turns,
as the days of our lives burn,
as we move as one multitude
beneath a blanket of toes
with our noses wrapped.
Worrying, scurrying for
the last scrap of paper
on which is printed not
a single famous image
but is destined
to carry our waste.
I longed for a love pure as driven snow
and fresh as spring 'ere Youth's brief joys succumb;
but a love never transpired; and, although
denied, I carried on to life's autumn.
A maid, princess, or queen have I never
loved or with an ardent nymph passion-proved
lust's all-consuming fire; deprived forever,
I disavowed former hopes for a beloved.
So, thenceforth unblemished and innocent,
without sin and virtuous from west to east,
I surrendered my youth's prurient bent
and forswore my lusts to dwell as a priest.
Now old and bootless, I ne'er knew desire;
or pierced the flower of a maid on fire.
When Morning arrives
on wings of dawn
the sky melts into
a cloud
and the sacred design
of a shroud
becomes a mystery
disavowed
A Costly Price To Pay
Black, negative thoughts cloud your mind
Consuming your heart, weights of all kind
Lost within yourself, self sorrow combined
A costly price to pay, in your mind confined
Losing who you are, to appease the crowd
To be acceptable, to those whom are allowed
And the ones not worthy, perhaps disavowed
A costly price to pay, not to be able to stand proud
Your mind, your friend, your enemy at the same time
Lost within your internal prison, committing no crime
Longing for whatever you seemingly lack, so sublime
A costly price to pay, living within your lost paradigm
Cast off whatever it is that does not serve you well
Be it within your life, your mind, bid it a fond farewell
Seek out that place deep within your soul, help you excel
Such a costly price to pay, lost within your personal hell
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