It can get maddening
This pursuit
What was the artist thinking
When playing their castanets?
Were they hoping you'd hear things
Just as they did in the studio
Or on the stage?
Does it matter what they were hoping?
Does it matter what you're hearing?
Is the enjoyment about faithfulness?
Is the enjoyment about the enjoyment?
It'd be great to know the answer to that question
You'll know it when you hear it
You can't hear it until you've dropped
Multiple paychecks into hearing it
Just so
Will you arrive at the end?
Will you just keep searching?
Will you ever truly enjoy?
#Poetry
I'm listening to this remix thing
It's on YouTube, where a full half of my video content gets absorbed
Into my brain
Or rather my head
Like the difference
Between listening
And hearing
It is a really clever sort of remix
Where it takes the original multitrack music
And makes a new version of the song with no additions
Technically
This is a good use
Of the social media
The feeder of content
It's really interesting
And if I could just stay
With listening to this
And avoid the
Click
Click
Click
Bedtime
Click
Click
Click
If only
I could
Break
Free
#Poetry
We were goofing
Using the pellets as play
Cans that we could find
In the trash
Set up
A pyramid
Safe and sound
Away from the houses
Into the field
Our aim untrue
Boredom
What else can we point at?
Birds flying by
Butterflies
Not hunters
Hmm
This pavement
Curious
Do our pellets
Deflect?
Into the blue sky?
Embed?
Into the hot tar?
A shot
A breath
Another
Deflect
Into the warm flesh
Run
Pretend
We're just bored outside
No reason
No reason
#Poetry
It's not like I grew up in this place
There is no nostalgic connection
Twenty-two
Years have gone by
Lived here
Longer than anywhere
Like family
There are things I like
I love
And things I dislike
I hate
Like family
I'm still here
It is one of those instances
Where I chose my own family
And I could choose again
Leave this one behind
There are things I love
And things I hate
Like family
I stay
#Poetry
Emptying into the larger river
The brook
Summer arrives
It doesn't exist
A place for floating dandelion to collapse
Try to take hold
Mostly scrabble
Stone and gravel
Harsh
Gritty
Baked by rays
Hot
Shimmering
Parched
Until the snows come again
#Poetry
Every day
The clothes pile up
With a family of five
The shirts
And the shorts
(Thank goodness it's nearly summer)
And the socks
And the underwear
God, the underwear
I wonder what this pile would weigh
If I could get it onto a scale
If ever it could be contained
In that manner
Does it even make sense
To find the mass of cloth
To tally it like a body or an ingredient
Some have simplified
Identical colors
Identical garments
Identical days
Identical nights
But still they have to wash
dry
fold
repeat
But still they have to
#Poetry
The clouds had went
Their separate ways
Sucked out of the sky
By the departing wind
What was left was pure
And glittering
And calm
Like the eye of a storm
A respite
From the constant chill
The continuous strong motion
With good fortune it could last longer
Not just a passing relaxation
Is wishing a strategy?
Does hoping yield results?
#Poetry
Would you rather?
Sights and sounds
I miss the painted colors
But I still have the shimmering movements
The ether swirling around my head
All the dimensions in play
The other flat in comparison
I would sit
I would hear
I would be okay
Not great
But okay
If light is a wave
Does it not make a vibration?
Can it not be visualized aurally?
#Poetry
All the things are happening
It's coming down all around
It gets everywhere
Like sand on a beach
Or Star Wars on my streaming
The sunny days are freezing
The cloudy days are warm
And occasionally dripping
It's been weeks since there was a good day
Though yesterday wasn't bad
As far as days go
Perhaps it's time to step forward
But with everything holding me back
I'm not sure how
I'm not sure how
#Poetry
They get older
They need care
They want independence
They want home
And so you hint
What you need
It's not there
It's a choice
It's a Life
or Death
One is ready
To start that next stage
The other wants to buy
The farm on the farm
So together they stay
Until together they aren't
The line is direct
Between here and there
Without movement
Without change
The hardest thing
For one to do
So we wait
So we know we wait
For Death
To make the choice
To make the change
To make the move
#Poetry