To dwell

I hear the sirens and should be more
alarmed

they do not cease
and I meditate
or try to find the silence
in the thicket

of noise, nerves, signals,
cymbals
and flashing red lights.

Meanwhile,
the wind was howling outside
loose things slammed into each other
and the panes quivered
in their sills.

I thought of somewhere
life being whisked away
and let a fear
inside.

I stared at the door
but did not leave
knowing this
would be the death of me.


Painting by Paul Cornoyer, 'The lights in the window' c. 1910 in Public Domain. 

Passages

Time

takes the toll,

giving change for our large bills

and admits passage 

but offers no return policy.

Make Time to Meditate.

Who makes time? I have an order. 

Empty. Thoughts.

Does one miss arguing with oneself

until none win?

The walls are over-crowded with imagery.

It was me-I put the elephant in the room 

who is 

holding a candle on a cloud, 

his shadow is only flat. 

Tell me again-

What is mine is ours-

With these words-

Let no thing

remain behind but a poem

After thought 

and plane shadows on clock faces. 

Daily Meditations (I)

Seek inside a stanza,
ducking down, let the sound bounce free.
Wish or pray for more time to meditate, like this
while shuffling with neural nets
and through flightless filtering experience,
in a sense
of meaning, meaning
conclusion, for now.
Answer, meditation, as in
time spent lingering inside a poem,
perhaps hum
when it feels right
or seems to resemble light.
Yes, Make time.


Painting by Cornelis Bisschop (17th century) in [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.