Beading

The wind breaks
promises

and I storm off
in bitter retreat,

sucking out the sour
isolation...

And the shoreline
waves
recognizing its relationship
with the timeline

inevitable as the tides turn
over

Revealing
what has been there
and who is dancing at the edge
unafraid
of falling in

for a pearl.

It comes in waves;
pain, sleep, sound, this feeling
the crashing is closer

becoming brackish
tumultuous and turbid for a trace
of gold
in every full glass
we see through

The warm breeze
blew away
our differences.

How easily mist
the rising and falling
of all things

may be made
more
than solid or whole,
as in part

of us
is always drowning

and becoming
one and the same.


Painting by Władysław Wankie (1860-1925) 'Fisherwomen on the shore', [Public domain].

The w(h)ole thing

When we say something is porous, it is a description of the holes
that allow other matters to fill the spaces between,
also known as absorption.
And this process ends when the porous body becomes full
of itself.
When we say, "poor us", we mean what we don't have,
as in desiring something to fill the void.
When look closely for the smallest common denominator,
we would find scores of pores all across our largest organ,
we would be referring to the spaces between
us and the world. Da Vinci knew there were no dividing lines.
When this skin tightens and turns to gooseflesh,
it is an act of repulsion or rapture.
We open our mouths and nothing escapes,
this is a microcosm of the black hole.

Standing atop the threshold, I open the door and I wonder
if I am letting the hot air out or welcoming
the cool air inside? How is relativity related to reality?
Loosely. Do virtues exist in the virtual world?
Is our privacy other peoples business, like common stock,
traded for common knowledge.
Have you been to the Public Domain?

Time is money expressed in regular intervals,
like breath, hard to catch with our heads at this altitude.
In theory, if we can't count it, can we make it count
without real numbers? It all adds up

to unfathomable astronomical units.

What was needed was more space,
but how to go about collecting more nothing
and where would we keep it...
Something was missing,
we knew this much.


Painting by Ernest Slingeneyer, 'The art collector' 1881 in [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.

Seine

Nets needed their holes
as much as the lines, holed in
meaning, bold definition.






Image credited By Internet Archive Book Images [No restrictions], via Wikimedia Commons.

Tide & True

The ebb and flow of tricky desire

peaking on crests

crashing loud and rolling calm

the horizon line wearies the eyes

taking in forever

a panoramic view

a scene in a moment with you.

Trudging against rocky seas

tip-toeing on the glassy surface

touching the liquid mirror

and licking the salt

of savory endings.

What does a wave want

more than release?

To rise and become more

than itself.

A glimpse of glistening face

in a marine metropolis

under the melting sky

gathering all the glow

and casting it back

in a reflection of the

whole whirled.

Image by By Amada44 (Own work) [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.