Moot

They expected me to say something wise,

Profound, say, an illuminating discovery.

I honed opinions, made my share

of mistakes-

What can we know about the limits of others

Patience, heft, and resilience? 

No way. Hence,

Nothing could be said.

Too late is not better than never,

since never never was reason

enough

to stop

Here.

Photo credit: Imogen Cuningham,'My mother peeling apples' taken in 1910 (Public Domain) via Wikimedia Commons. 

Free Will-but save yourself

The whole truth and nothing but the truth,
You can't handle the truth-
Truth be told,
If you dare,
I swear on my life
It had all been said before as time and time again repeats itself, this time is different,
as assertion or assumption that the old is new again-this time
there is no way all the way around without seconds-
You've tried before, before the moments meant more than muddled memory of cake,
a building block, an hour glass or year more changes things, dims the lighting while we change
and seek something original before sunset-
Yet nothing new or true has been said yet...
except we still try (and propose)
we still lie (and suppose)
we still die, believing legacy lasts longer than I told you so,
as though the truth shall set you free
to choose
just
one.


Painting by Anne-Louis Girodet de Roussy-Trioson (1786) in [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.

all that cannot blend

trying to show green flash-
hear a heart flame burst
along with the after effect of shock
and awe
with rolling whispers when arisen
out from shadowed souls-
As it would be seen-from where you are,
already white demonstrates for us,
space occupied for air and water,
yes oil and blood are better
for what has been said.



Image By ISS Expedition 23 crew (NASA Earth Observatory) Sunset from the Space station [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.

The missing lyrics

When I do not say
                           it is not that-
I made this mask
                          this way.
You can see its guts
                         through the eyes...
The cogs and fogs.

When I listen
                         I welcome news
from outside.
To share a smile
                         is a welcome view,
a radiant defiance of conservation.
When I hear
                         music in the mundane,
I take it out
                        of context
and am moved by its song.

When spoken
                        I regret empty words,
that fulfill
                        nothing perfectly.
All the non-existent ways-
                        I said nothing
In so many days-
                        it has all been said.
I am done telling
                         All,
when I do not say.



Image of painting by Vittorio Matteo Corcos (1892), [Public domain] via Wikimedia Commons.