Thoughts From A Porch

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This was me, in a memory

There are glimpses

 

It is unsure how this could be

Given life’s turns and chances

 

There to here, it is unclear

It confounds the senses

 

Not a single cell remains

Within what I became

 

So I am this and not that

Regardless of what they claim

 

Every moment, every day

A second chance to be

 

Upon a different path, now at last

I can be no one other than me

 

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Dark Night

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Dark beauty arise

In blackness

Dark nights reprise

 

Beyond sighted eyes

In silence

Beyond fallen cries

 

Faith no more

In sadness

Faith to abhor

 

Known yet unknown

In silence

Known yet alone

 

Dark beauty arise

In blackness

Dark beauty arise

This Dream

 

What I Am Thankful For

That I am close to the end of this dream

A dream that I thought was true, it is not

I have simply forgotten that I am dreaming

 

I have believed this is all real

 

For your and my enjoyment

But then I am you, and you are me

So the one I blame is myself

Though most blame others

 

 

Ripples

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If we are ever here to feel

In the sudden seeing of flight

Birds overhead, wings spreading

To the coming azure night

 

A cats purr

Lying close within the night

 

If we were ever truly present

As we talk to another one

Against city din and clash

If we cared how it begun

 

Ripples in this fabric

Within the whole as we begun

 

Ignoring that which is in front of us

Longing only for the next

The instant rise beyond

Forgetting all the rest

 

Is no one among us

Even ready for the test?

 

Final Breath

 

This bottle is fragile

What I can say, filtered, safe

Pushing, pulsing

Contained for now

 

This tongue bleeds

Bitten and held

Breathe; soft words, alone.

 

They cannot see

Yet, I am they, and I must

Hold it, wait…

I cannot hold them…

 

They have jumped

From the cliff

Pummeled and broken

 

And I grieve

Sacrificed to falsities

Led astray in the glow

Turn it off; see!

 

Truth was always here

Beside you and with, within.

Breathe and be.

The Laughter

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Has anyone ever died?

Was anyone ever born?

We see others do both

For ourselves, we are not so sure

 

I was not here, neither were you

Now I am, are you?

Others may see my leaving

But I will never know I have been

 

This dream of forgetting

Of before and after

A game we play so well

Yet forgetting the laughter

Second-Hand​ Lives

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The young child is running wild

As children often do

A mother yells distracted and annoyed

Expected; that is true

 

The cell phone never leaves her face

Something that cannot wait

Annoyed at the interruption

Her child’s behavior of late

 

Something so important

Something beyond her child

Something that really cannot wait

No; just a friend who has beguiled

 

Second-hand lives lived apart

Never to be lived again

Missing the important things

For selfish personal gain

 

Addiction is an insidious thing

Creeping while unaware

Life passes once and never again

In a breath, they are not there.