Poems

(various poems I've written, most were a while back, recent ones at bottom; most of these were written spontaneously in a brief sitting to capture a sentiment)

....

The boat beat against the dock,
let it go let it go,
the wind blows and the waves rock,
as the boat beat against the dock.
It pulls but the ropes strain,
and each hug gets knocked,
let it go let it go,
and the ropes break.

....

you have taken the closeness out of all my friendships,
the heat from cups of tea,
you'll hear gulps- no need to sip,
and shouts- for no one's near me.
bring back the puzzle-pieced memories,
that paint our picture when we're fitted;
and it's not much but bring back the steam,
so my nose can agree,
and foggy windshields bring back memories.
what's your name, again, do you go by apathy?

....

I didn't want to think,
that this was the best part of me,
I put the cup on the table, oops,
meant to put it on the desk,
does that happen when you're aware of possibilities?
If there's no such thing as mistakes like these,
Maybe what I do is the clearest reality of what you know but I don't see as me;
If you're right then it's not quite tentative,
but that's the only catalyst on which I've been focusing.

....

It was without ceremony that time split the bond between our cordial seams,
and it was a void that filled the distance between you and me.
There was no grand parade,
nor would there be bended knee,
that sent us parting or that held us blessed to be.
We could have been together never,
or forever bonded we could be,
but betwixt two extremes there was no room for you with me.
No root to take hold,
no soil to catch the seed,
I feel like an empty vessel,
water runs right through me.
There is no dedication,
no marked spot for some to see,
just an empty open space,
where a firmly rooted tree,
will forever never be.

....

I do not occupy favored seats,
nor sit down to eat choicest meats,
but if I did it would not matter,
these things would only make me sadder.
I am not invited nor do I host,
I am not called upon to receive nor beckoned to give a toast.
But truth be told I don't quite care,
within it all there lies a snare.
A man is not the center of,
this universe of endless things,
for beyond his time the sun will shine,
and in the morning birds will sing.
The world itself is well equipped,
to turn on him whose selfishness,
drinks til the last drop of wine is sipped,
and laughs til there are no more quips.

....

Society wants a Storm in a Tea Cup:

Poured from the fountain of life,
to the cup I settle and simmer,
I am bold I am hot I can be smelled!
I'm approached with caution and sipped for joy.
O behold, make note of this,
some are sedated,
and I have been doused with cream,
the heat immediately tempers as the last faint vapors flee,
I'm left with a lesser version,
a neutralized me.

....

I have a spirit.
Face me and you will see I have a spirit.
You have a spirit also, you have been terrorized in your spirit,
and this terror was not a response to a physical threat,
but a threat aimed at the precious items of your heart.
What you feel is eternal, but you are not,
and you know this for you fear the body you are,
but you dread the soul which must depart upon your mortal end,
and on to a fixed place your spirit goes.
Anchor, then, your heart and the eternal substance of true feeling there in,
and flee your mortal ways.
Lift your heart to God,
and set your body's work to employ itself to service of people,
and be then a blessing.

....

Reflections on Plato's Republic Ch. 16:

Why does the mouth curse,
when it is the finger that taketh the blow?
Or the hands-
why do they grope and clench about the eyes,
when it is the eye that feeleth the dashing and gouging of pain?
Does our body not wobble and a single leg hop about,
when the toe alone has been stubbed and hindered?

Does not the mouth receiveth its food from the fingers of the hand?
So it curses!
Do not the hands feeleth and grope at the command of these eyes?
So they grieve at the loss of sight!
Has not the body learned to balance upon the share of both legs?
So it is thrown upon a world of imbalance at the impairment of either!

Why then, if these parts are one,
do I feel no loss at the ailment of a brother or sister in Christ?
Are we not one, under thy Lord's command?
We know too little, and have a want of felt need for each other.

I know too little, and have a want of felt need for others.

....

So much weight behind those eyes,
like you've been sent to look but you just can't find,
and a waiting heart that sits dull too,
but I see a brighter light,
and it seems to be shining through.

....

Broken systems, broken systems,
oh how you remain so consistent,
in your ability to dismantle human functions,
as if the law weren't made for man,
but man for broken systems,
where the heart is misunderstood,
and so love is put so distant.

....

What's this script I'm in called "life"?
I forget what take I'm on,
I keep laughing through my lines.

....

I build the sandcastle of my life as quick as I can,
because I see the waves of time that come rushing in.

....

Your mind is powerful indeed,
your faith keeps shape-shifting things;
If you felt love would you tell me,
those words beautifully breathed.
The sun rises and the wind brings its warmth to me,
but if I was asleep I wouldn't see a thing,
and I wouldn't know what it is I was feeling.

....