Old Coats



I wear the past

An old coat, tattered and torn

Long in tooth

I should have long ago shorn


Yet it finds me again

All this lifetime to be worn

Taken off sometimes

Never far from hand to adorn


I wear the past

This old coat, tattered and torn

Bones broken and bent

Memories tattered and torn







I am myself an idea

Nothing more


Writing fading words

From the deep before


Upon illusions page

The stories score


A life imagined

Nothing more.

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






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?


In Time



I do not pass time

As I watch

All around the hustle

Everyone going somewhere

Anywhere but here


Where are they running to?

Away from?

Here is nice

I can watch, quietly


Do they ever arrive?

Should I?

Here is fine

Time passes through me

As it was, is, and will be


Yes, I quite like it here.




Among the trees

Leaves softly speak

To the breeze

That moves them


Whispers in our ears

If we but listen

Maybe too near

Do you hear them?


Simple as this

We seek to find

A knowing kiss

Do you feel it?


It was always here

Where you began

Every fallen tear

Does your heart know it?



coutesty of: intentblog.com


And there are words, often useless, often noise

Sometimes they are more

Small pieces of a history set free

Bit by bit they leave and take

Small shards of what I used to be


And I am less, yet I am somehow more for the loss

Fallen to the ground, or received

Parts of me are gone, never again to be found

If heard, if understood, they live on in another

As I become unbound


In a here that never was

Shared with what always was…

What will always be…as it was in the beginning

Is now…and always will be

More words spoken in the dark night


And I pray, though I am not a Christian

I meditate, though the East is but a dream

And the words rise

I release what is left of me

So little remains to be said


When they are done

There will be peace

Empty to accept

That I am

With nothing left to say.