Mantra(s)

(1)
Put this is your mouth
tasting this flavor of thought
smell the breath with in.

(2)
Lingering outside
you choose the notes to pick up
and savor the sounds.

(3)
Prove you can jump in
and out of the echoes left
in the chorus line(s).

(4)
Get inside between
and stretch as much as
you can momentarily.

Painting by Thomas Eakins [Public domain].

thingamajigs

Call it crude
if you insist
to designate
that whose design
and functionality
seems rudimentary,
basic shelter
remains enough
for those requiring
little more than
distance from destruction.
Wallowing as we do,
from time to time,
the space becomes so small
between,
our feet become our shoes
and it was as if this was
plentiful,
the question of survival
posed as neither
safe nor sound.
Not saying
there were other ways,
and more than enough
to fill blanks
with trinkets.


Painting by: Anonimous french master previously attributed to Trophime Bigot. See official website. [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.

Roost her

Wake up, it said, Wake up, sharply

it snapped,

and it was still not in focus.

Rap, rap, rap, tapping, with the tip of the finger

slapping the face of the stoic timepiece.

Do you see-it pointed. I know-all I could muster out

by feeble lungs and tight lipped projections.

Don’t say I did not tell you so-it did not say

this time.

What have you been doing-the prod grew hotter-

All this time

On the other hand, a second time,

I remember planning.

That is not doing.

It is undoing and a voiding and be

holden-Too long, it melts or turns bad.

You never told me that, I told it.

You cannot let go so soon-
if you give up the only thing

that is yours, what will you be left with, 

it asks of me.

Generous, life has given and taken.
Will there be enough time to finish?

No. That was not the point of it all.

Didn’t you notice that endings are all the same,

it mused from the other side. 

It noticed the out lines, the greys, the bones and shade, similarly,

How can you sleep at such a time when dreams are dying off

at such a rapid rate like honey bees and polar bears.

How can you hide your head in plain daylight?

It was too bright and distracting to look up around,

garish and nightmarish, blinding.

Are they all zombies?

It is terrifying.

It is the same direction, to a point

out of focus
until it has been heard from inside. 

Artwork By Kalki (Own work) [CC0], via Wikimedia Commons.

Fits of all-timers disease

You must find it in Here

and protect it when you do.
Fight for it, for now,
if that feels right.

Do not let it wander off...

That should have been enough to know
all we needed
something special left for us-

most certainly we will know it when we see it.

Perhaps other things came first, easier and
stood taller,
in your face,
consuming precious attention, a natural resource
short in so many ways
making us feel we need more,
we feel need and have to have,
what we think we need for others.

Listen, that forgetting feeling,
somethings are slipping,
the way guilt works its oily way
inside to undo forward motion,
or recognized

as the inability to see
likeness anymore
it was lying there
when we passed

over the top,
afraid of depth, holding our breath and
acclimating ourselves,
we forgot what we came in Here for...


Painting by Félix Vallotton [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.

No More than Four

It may take some time for our water 

based eyes to adjust 

                                   in the dry air

and filter out what it needs not.

The first train blares its horn 

          as it pulls through the sleepy town

tucked inside the fluffy grey marine layer.

The Amtrack gains its momentum 

          and kicks up clay sand in dusty billows,

                         while we lie stoic in its wake. 

A little later today,

as usual.

When we come out of our nocturnal coma

we start straight away, stacking up tasks, 

                                   left and right foot,

breathe and blink,                     -stretch

and then 

the mind quickens to find more 

                                         just to say

                                   no more than four

things at one time...

No way.

If I had five children- 

why the pinkie and not the thumb?

If I could split my brain in two,

perhaps I could keep track of eight...

Why the biggest brain 

                                if we are so dumb?

This one time, the same as today

while walking to the market,

                                   left, right, left, 

bread, bananas, cheese, water...

I heard the train coming,this was the light Coaster 

and I knew it was only 10 to 3.

I have time-I remember-I thought-

I smile at the passers-by, a grandmother with child, 

                                                  umbrella for the sun, 

a leash leading to a tiny dog and multiple bags in tow.

With my hand plunged into my shallow pocket 

I think I have not enough money 

                                                 for the bread. 

                    Sweat beads built on my brow

and instead of going this way,

                         corruption of a lovely day-

a needed

interruption, a line break in my path.

Now

the copper church bells peal back from atop St. Patrick's tower

and I listen in silence...

four more

Still 

my heart beats,  

with a falling 

                       bead of warm water on my cheek,

                                        and I remember to breathe.

*The number Four is based on an article from brainfacts.org.

Photo credit By "self-made" in  [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.

DeLiberation

Disappear
is a simple enough
request of such a pret-ty little word.

Pass
this test
of strength without kil-ling
this too

Walk
it off, putting thoughts
in some order, neat-ly notice
all the lit-tle things
in the path

        Above
Rise

Sleep
time taken
in an alternate real-ity
vacation and breath

Find
moments, like this
to feel
(me)
Charge
up, forward, through
the r-evolving gates of Dis
                   never
                                              falling
behind

Time
to think
about things
like pret-ty lit-tle words
like 

These.

Composed 9/9/15.

Image By Sonia Sevilla (Own work) [CC0], via Wikimedia Commons.