Within minutes, a gentle wave comes to nudge your consciousness
Stars appear bluer than you remember
Globus, the lump in your throat is gone
Memories emerge that remained unthought for years;
A strangely lit corridor;
A den in the woods
Back in the present, all is still
Nothing just happened
And it is a gift; a comfort.
The world is tinted back to the colour you understand
You feel your heart beating in your fingertips
Your hands are steadier than you have ever known
Your skin is attached just right
Up to this moment, life has provided you with just the right amount of destruction
To let you Understand.
Past injuries can be observed with detached interest
Sunlight behind closed eyelids glows in reds and oranges
Lay back and experience
A swirlycap high
If moderation is a virtue
and excess be a fault
Please pass the watercress
~ Kindly hold the salt.
Post wisdom, it walks in silence,
Post kindness, it travels slow.
But dress a message in naked noise,
And watch the numbers rise and glow.
Thoughtful words struggle for daylight,
While scandal dances into fame,
And minds that crave a moment’s pleasure
Feed the ever-hungry game.
The screen rewards sensation,
Not always truth or art,
And clicks obey temptation
More than the thinking heart.
So decency waits in the shadows,
While controversy takes the throne,
An algorithm chasing desire,
Turning attention into stone.
Yet somewhere, quiet voices gather,
Still choosing meaning over thrill,
Hoping one day substance triumphs,
And depth outlives the viral will.
For trends may rise on restless hunger,
But truth survives beyond the scroll—
When minds awake from fleeting pleasure
And seek content that feeds the soul.
Sophistication…
Epicurean Delight…
~ Chicago hotdog
So many phantom shapes
Fluff about the local space
I can barely sense them brushing
Not hiding, just skimming existence
Not in or out
Among the growing shadows
I recall music I've never heard
Reminding me of places I've never been
Where I yearn to go back
This is the stuff of happiness
It and I alone, together mingling.
I like the way you touch my body.
There's no way I can deny it.
You complete me in so many ways.
You have this body of mines in such a maze.
Taste me here, lick me there.
You have this body of mines wet everywhere.
I feel chills down my spine.
You lay me on my back and let me unwind.
This body of mine is feeling so gracious.
You take this body of mine on a trip of Sexual Sensation.
Reality seems to be drawing near,
and for some I can't help but feel as if I'm being overcome by
an incomprehensible fear.
I try to recall a memory of sovereignty,
but every time I try, it's as if I'm committing a felony.
George walked by us neighbors one night.
Our husbands were shocked at the sight,
for this uncouth dude
was lewd, crude, and nude.
We wives tried to hide our delight.
The angry men yelled, “Hey, you freak!"
Oblivious, George didn't speak.
He stared straight ahead
then went home to bed.
He'd stroll again, bare, the next week.
The problem, recalls Dr. Dover,
was BAD but, soon afterwards, over.
Doc watched George and found
him walking around
asleep, so some pills cured this rover.
The neighborhood men are quite glad
no naked man’s making them mad.
While breathing a sigh,
relieved, they ask why
we wives have just lately seemed sad.
Night is pending.
Not even the most anxious
can avoid time.
Day after day I dread the
the death of nothing
that the night spawns.
The TV becomes my
best friend~
a window of light
in the abyss.
Old TV shows
are brighter than
the new.
Tonight I choose
The Andy Griffith Show.
I put my earphones in,
and turn the volume down
(on the off chance
sleep embraces me)
and I embrace my fate.
I watch.
It's strange.
I feel a peculiar force
tugging at the corners
of my mouth.
The opposite of gravity.
A sensation that pulls
upward.
I had forgotten the feeling.
I laugh inside,
but for a different reason
than my body is currently
reacting to.
It seems even the most
sleep-deprived,
fear stricken
low in life
sickos
can't keep themselves
from smiling at
the infamous
Don Knotts
Checked it flag
A stand out soapbox
All in grey
Challenger in a race
Speed of competitors
It was fast like a Greyhound Dog
Grey color gets attention
Had to mention
Grey soapbox named “ROADHOG”
As the wheels accelerated more and more
It was definite that the soapbox was going to even the score
Faster Faster and Faster
Maneuvering here and there
The soapbox was beyond compare
Ahead of its time
Throughout the soapbox race
Every competitor was in a chase
Winner to be
A let see
Who will cross the finish line?
You guessed it, the Roadhog being the grey soapbox
Cheers and roars
Undefeated challenger
Winner took all
Soapbox winner call.
Sage moose families
journeying nature’s beauty,
streaming peaceful life:-
Powerful, iconic elk,
Canvassing serenity:-
fancy green fresh smell
of the pure virgin forests
pure scent paradise
On certain rainy afternoons
I smell anamnestic perfumes
love... axiom or incarnation!
My opinion is an option
Their preferences a mandate
Our midpoint an ambiguity
The victory tastes bitter
Only the failure feels better
I then call it an intriguing skin
They name it an awkward scene
The softer tissues on touch
An awful sensation in view
Hearing the rooster roaring
We all deserve no contempt
By integral effort attainable
For every purpose one intends
On the prowess one and all have
Leading all of us complacent
Afterwards evolves serial concerns
The triumph is like a strong poison
What this conquest by me?
The defeat is a solid medicine
Why should I surrender?
I ultimately subdue their sensations
As they intimately soothe my tissues
We share the devotion, not hostility
We act empathic without negligence
And the rooster keeps roaring
is there a little premeditation ~ to scratch an irritation
or a bit of an itch ~ to tackle a rash without hesitation
said a flea to a hive ~ it’s only my lousy interpretation
By
David Kavanagh
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