May 10th, 2009
It came
I sought
I lost.
In confusion
Scrambled.
Lesser things came,
Happiness.
Exploration.
For a time.
The dream is raw
Rotting.
Older dreams than recent dreams
dreamt are redrawn.
New vigor
New vision.
Dreaming continues
Until night
When the last, long dream begins.
A moment so sudden,
At the end of a list
On the return from a party.
Succes first the feeling
Turned lost and asunder.
Don't know where to go
Nor quite what to do.
I sit here and ponder
The life I just knew.
Transparent yet sensory,
Looking for something forgotten--
Remembering what it was to do--
Someone about to come--
The end of the sidewalk--
A cliff to the sea--
The last station of the line.
Not knowing what will be
Life continues
As the trail is now gone--
Mapless wilderness so foreign you aren't scared;
It's but crumbs and fantasy.
Anything fast
Fill up the senses
Pleasure me now as
The stranger keeps knocking,
As if his dark entrance
Might my exit light.
Without remembering
one must forget,
and will kill if the mind stays
on the question too long.
May 10th, 2009
House by house.
Some have swirls
Or smaller quarters.
The barren desert disappears
In water
In sod
In concrete
In light.
How far will nature fly?
Not as far as our reach.
Because it has not wings
Or the will to leave
Or the perception of its end.
We see potential,
It sees limitations.
It gives all it can
Yet we take more than it offers
And squander it on fountains
And lawns
And pools without number
Or concern.
A once unique miracle of life
Can be seen daily at the Bilagio.
It’s origin is unquestioned.
Our miricle of gamling cities
arid suburbs
And desert golf courses
Will soon end.
Our dead will overflow from yards
To sidewalks
To the gutter
Just as people begin to ask where it all went.
With her last breath
Nature will say
She offered herself freely
And we raped her anyway,
Not feeling the raping of ourselves.
