Through Support

They are lit, limelight,
Center focus, open stage,
People we adore
Though rare speak we in homage,
They are loves, pleasures, and more.
When we think, purpose,
Reason to continue on
Our meaning, given,
Those relative unknowns who
Populate our lives are enough.
Sometimes memory
Must sustain us over years –
Because loss appears,
But recollection carries
Us through times of doubt and fear.
Those brave-hearted souls
Who inspire, we always have
Within us retained
To bolster our courage in
Times when giving up is easy.
Quiet warriors,
Unremarked these denizens
Of love’s sweet country,
Are life, breath, health, sustaining
Every achievement, gain, deed.

Impression

The reach was further
Beyond ordinary magic
Than creative imagination
Allowed
Love, though, remained unbound
Like the expanding universe
Unbordered by any expectation
Concocted
By human mental faculties
Enshrouded in a limited matter
Hoping to transcend experience
Lifted
Outside into the rarity
Of all that passes for probable
Infinity, which is only uncountable,
Justified
This love, faces, races ahead present
To present catching heart
Kindling immediate need open
Desire
Calling alive each precious life
Birthing every impossibility
Which grows, becomes, builds,
INSPIRES.
Seeing, what is seen?
Knowing, what knowledge is known?
Becoming, what change is, becomes?
Impression
Lies in between thought and reality
The unwilling limit, calculated
In freedom, love redeemed,
Creativity.

Fear is a strong force
Often able to strangle
Warm feelings of love.

Haphazard Creative

If we took a wastebasket full
Of crumpled papers
With words encased upon
Each and every sheet,
Then pulled out pieces
To put together thoughts,
Join in lines, rhymes,
Remedies complete;
Perhaps loves would
Understand the meaning
Of the title, a mind, a jumble
Haphazard Creative,
Put a semblance of order
Who long realized
Exacting lines become too
Tame to capture what
A wildling person
Can believe is real
Only love and God
Can all truth reveal.

I do not know, it just came, and I wrote it. It seems I have a line that keeps pulling down the sinker.

Stop, Do Stop!

A hole wide open
Met inside experience,
A phone call today,
Ignored again, it remains
A worry of mind, all mine.
Will it never cease?
Calling, calling, no answer,
It will not become;
Forcing is no way with me,
I quit, will not engage, talk.
Months, and still pursued –
Why? There is no one, nothing
Here, to cling onto,
My properties, forsaken –
My attributes, verboten.
I erected boundaries
For all the best of reasons,
No coward am I, but fear
It has become acid inside.

I have two phone stalkers who will not desist. Many months have passed, it continues. Forgive me, I need to let my fear vent.

Rising Thinking

This stone rolling, refuses,
Deep cover over this recess
Fallen on misstep into
Innocently,
A deluge, quickly, levels rise
Drowning should be such
Impossibility,
But the catalyst environment
Welcomed so many years, ignores;
TRUTH,
Ah, become a word
Like other words, read
Contextually,
So it may be judged to vary
Without any precise meaning.
FREEDOM,
A seemingly clear notion,
Emotion, tied up in hustler’s
Knots of privilege and abuse,
Given
Some, withheld such others,
But all when questioned
Believe its existence is
An absolute – RIGHT –
Everyone should possess.
What are
TRUTH,
FREEDOM,
When humans, beings, are
Placed in situations where
Who they are is compromised –
Evermore?

Been reading current events, not a proposition without the continual engagement of deep thought. As poets, we ignore the public sphere to the detriment of democracy.

You may also recall I recently revisited 1984.