I hate physical touch
Hugging, kissing, hand-holding, and such.
I hate the way it fills me with disgust,
Having me construct my shoulders in a hunch.
Categories:
unphysical, abuse, grave, memory, poetry,
Form: Rhyme
Is something unphysical
in charge of this world
That lines every moment,
unseen and unfurled
Scientists say NO,
breathing fire as they shout
What is it then
that scatters atoms about
Darwin had his theory,
well accepted—unproved
That things change themselves
on condition and mood
But somewhere deep
in the backs of our minds
A notion lay hidden,
firmly placed to remind
This proof we so revel in,
whose truth we revere
Has constantly changed
since the dinosaurs were here
So try to stay open
as new data evolves
Remembering the axioms
it now must resolve
And tune in to something,
not burdened by facts
The rock of all ages
—still blindly intact
(Radnor Pennsylvania: October, 2020)
Categories:
unphysical, god,
Form: Rhyme
I drop my words
Into a vacuum
-So there's enough room-
But they're vacuumed up
By the lack of air
'Cause I made no wings
To bear them
Without force
I let them go
I let gravity
Take it's course
Ashes to ashes
Dust to dust
Go up in flames
Or slowly rust
All that's eternal
Is that's pure
Pain and hate
And love -no more
And I'm so scared
That it's all in my head
That life's a steady march
To dead
Dead ends
and culs-de-sac
Take one step forward
Then quick!
Turn back.
Categories:
unphysical, confusion, death, introspection, life,
Form: Free verse