Observe

If we celebrate
Anything, we should celebrate
Being here, being alive;
Because living is not a given
Life keeps passing, good-bye.
We are only the blinks
In the movement of eternity,
Breaths in a storm only
Sent once to live and die,
Sing as if you mean it; try.
I would not ask you
To participate if did not I,
The beauty of forever
You can grasp onto, hold, find,
If you reach for it, nearby.

Prompt: What compels your attention, takes you out of the moment?

Curve

I give up the chase –
You win your freedom of space,
My love has no place;
What you choose to leave, avoid,
I bury within my heart, void.
Never a beggar
I instead turn, walk away,
Take other highways
Leading wherever strangers
Are willing – friends to begin.
Laying out my heart
For you to trample beneath
Heavy stomping feet
Is not my ideal party
Treat, I must not stay, compete.
Say fond welcome to
These days you quickly bought
Without my presence;
Taste your fancy feast of joy
My leaving is your peace, foil.

Prompt: Tap into your emotional climate, create something that indicates where you have your home.

Otherwise – Forever

“You are full of questions,
but answer none of mine.
Bit unfair, Lovey.”

“Oh, honey,
that’s how I roll.
You know this
after how long???
I take without giving.”

“No, no, it is not always.
It is past many years,
wretch,
that I have been attached to you
with chains,
I cannot wrest away.
Longer,
because you owned me
prior.
You are the enigma that
restlessness invokes
amid paradises
of supposed pleasure.

Yeah, keep that one for your
letter trove.

Escape is no frigging option.
Still, I am the villain.
I love you,
when love
is not your
purpose.
You desire to be
the bait,
then when the wild
beast
is captive, to run away.
I am willing to play
your game
because I enjoy
your peculiar brand
of pain.

Here lies the rot:
You have had your loves,
more lasting
than my own,
but somehow you are
not all away,
because
in your depths,
you realize
my heart is
your home,
but only at
a distance,
because you fear what
we would be
come into our own.

And here I have awoken
with ink
all over me, again,
and am yet to
discover why.
Perhaps even in
sleep
words
keep me company
as will never
the love I want.

Am I so dangerous?”

Counted Syllabics

Knowledge is, is not
Secure enough for full trust,
Hidden remains, much.

//////////

Strange, strange, and stranger
The games we all join and play
To avoid boredom.

//////////

Finding it again
An unlikely happening
Still, we keep dreaming.

//////////

There exist moments
Of which none possess knowledge
Even those present.

//////////

Where did we find it?
How were we bound around it?
Why does it exist?
Though it guards it jealously –
Perhaps love knows the answer.

Prompt: I played with Haiku and a Tanka here. Should you wish, do some of your own.

Gratitude:
After days of shortage, I finally slept.
The gift of writing.
The gift of reading.
The presence of my dogs.
The luxury of time alone.

Willing Walls

Every rock feels like a wall
Weighted on the edges fit
To gloss right over
Enjambment holding words, lines
Together sentenced inside
The poem, river stones
Smoothed yet separated like
Those who secrets keep
Under mounds stacked much
Higher than maybe any desire.

Constant, no buyer
For the passions readily
Acquired under siege
Of rolling onslaught, bolder
Than before romance tendered.

The song, melodious surrender,
Now love, revoke the walls built
On forgotten dreams
Turn to see what such fascination
Means as inspiration – flames –
Creativity, freedom inclination,
No mystery tearing down
Careful barriers
Constructed to prohibit feral
Growth as if nothing is enough.

Love is no stone though
One might throw, causing ripples
On the surface, it seems time
Is only these shared moments,
All other becomes deprivation extreme,
A heart can be open
Or remain as hard as a stone;
The bedrock alone
Challenged with an anomalous difference
Which may be given and shown,
Love is and becomes the soul’s true home.