Standing still at 67 mph

I spend a fair amount of time
riding the concrete ribbons hereabouts,
with monotonous moments broken up
by seasonal flora,
squashed and prayed at critters,
wrecks, and the ever present rape
of the landscape by construction crews.

But today, something odd.
Yes, there, I said it,
Odd.

In most cases when you are
flying down the road at ungodly speeds,
the real estate rushes TOWARDS you.

In other words,
you are traveling THROUGH it.
A matter of perspective I know,
but one which we humans cherish,
if only for the semblance of normality.

But today, the landscape
traveled along WITH me.
I thought perhaps I was sleep-driving.

The ground, grasses, the ever-present
advertising billboards
and rottage on the side of the road
were all traveling
in the same direction as I was.

Was it only a matter of perspective?
Or had I slipped beneath, around, behind
the view held by the general populace?

I decided to look closely
at this screen door held open for my perusal
instead of flinching aside in denial.
I would be brave and SEE that which
I would normally turn from in fear.
That fear of the unknown
we as a species have grown old with.

So I attended
and I saw

– The terrain, hard and focused.
– Every blade of grass, its warpage and weft.
– The rise and fall of each stone.
– The contour of a setting that was unorthodoxly stationary.

The feeling was of being escorted,
a path smoothed, the ride but a sit for a while.
So I went with the flow
and let myself twist with the distortion.

A lapse then occurred, one of miles
across arenas often viewed,
through vistas wearily traversed,
a lapse of a seeming wink.

With the truck on auto-pilot
I tripped the light of the moth’s eye,
arriving home in one whole,
albeit stuttered piece.

I think this little trip bears repeating.

First Published by: Aphelion
Publication Date – October 2019
Issue # – 243, volume 23
Link to my Poem

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Giving birth to a rough precision

Sometimes no matter how fast
I want my thoughts to fly
it just doesn’t seem the distance
between the moment of concept
and the transmission
between hemispheres
will ever be achieved.

I feel like I’m thinking through
assorted gravities,
my synapses ground to matter,
every signal stalling
in conundrums left out to dry.

I don’t want to wear down
those same easy patterns,
clusters directing energy via rote.
And what does logic have to do
with anything of worth?

Let me simply cogitate, release,
and allow my sparks
to ignite your atmosphere
in a brilliance blindingly abstract
and unprecise. Then, then we can share
the beginnings of a guess and clue.

First Published by: Jeannette Cheezum’s cavalcadeofstars
Publication Date – August 6, 2019
Link to my Poem

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A moment caught in greyscale

You ask her a question
and she turns towards you,
eyes ringed in kohl
smudged by the smoke
hanging in the
low-ceilinged bar

She doesn’t wonder
or question what you want,
her actions on auto-pilot,
numbness an acquired emotion
when life and just existing
require more than she can allow

The man across the table,
he looks at her, but not,
his glance far away
yet centered on her lips,
waiting for a word,
any syllable that would
resemble an interaction

And that old man,
the one buying rounds
for all those lost starts,
he stares right at you,
asking with a grin in his gaze
if you too have any moments
that have wandered off
when apathy ruled your heart

 

First Published by: The Loch Raven Review
Issue # – Volume 15, No. 1, 2019
Link to my poem

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A Wink by a Nod

A morning cut short
by decisions
made in the wink of a night,
those moments when you
stopped, turned, reckoned
and celebrated a simple progress
by and about
every yen you ever aimed for
when you lay awake
with eyes wide
and out of order.

In the light of a blink
you attempt to stop
that headlong and dawdling crash
into a stunted future
where you are no longer able
to sustain growth.

But daylight makes a habit
of white-washing those
directions, and next you know
you’ve turned desire
into disdain and
all hell breaks loose.

 

First Published by: Mad Swirl
Publication Date – 04/09/19
Link to my poem

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In Situ

He chose this assignment,
volunteered willingly
to allow his anatomy
to become a symbiont,
the carapace a construct
envisioned through diagrams
found in the ruins on
Titan’s shore.

He has evolved and
been expelled far beyond
our imaginations, now
a warden of the skies,
with winged panels of
tattooed gossamer and
plaited geometry arcing
from his once human visage
to trail the stratosphere,
gathering corona winds
to soar.

And from his etched
and callused palms
twin rondures descend,
which he uses to chastise
the rapacious earth-bound
traders as well as deter
any other-worldly organisms
that attempt to usurp
our place with Gaia.

 

First Published by: Star*Line
Publication Date – Winter 2019
Issue # – 42.1
Link to my Poem

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Transient Golems


I landed in that moment
with a blink, that moment
that was not mine.
It shown like the spark
of a jewel, clarity of place
replaced by my self.
Where did the child go?
The one on that rope swing,
sitting on that knot of a seat?
Where did she go
when I overtook her?
Did she fly to my future,
an earthen golem like me?
Though we only traded being
long enough to gasp,
I reeled back home, intangible.

First Published by: Leaves of Ink
Publication Date – 03/02/19
Link to my Poem

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The Twinkle in a Moth’s Eye


As I walked outside this morn
I trained the high intensity flashlight
up the driveway that I trudge
each and every day.

I’m not too worried
about being ravished and what-not
on this dark jaunt up the gauntlet
through the disembodied sounds,
spider webs, and shadowy recesses
that flicker and writhe with the wind.

Not with my pack of hounds on the prowl and alert.

So when something the size of an orange
is seemingly tossed across the light’s arc,
to travel just outside its boundary
I was taken aback
and slowly pondered to a stop.

I crept up, swinging the light’s beam left to right.
There, on the ground about three feet ahead.
What is that?

It appeared to be moths in coitus.
Huh, never saw that one before.
And here I thought I was a nature lover.

I started to walk around them
when something caught my eye.
A small light, in the vicinity of said moths.

Oh good lord, I need to investigate.

I edged closer, closer still,
till I was standing right above them,
a hazy apparition
behind a light from up high
like some mythical being.

And there it was again, a twinkle.
Perhaps from one of the moth’s eye?

Then they both swung
their hairy little heads forward,
and I was pinned by two sets of feral beams.

Okay…
It seems I may have taken a step
into a non-ordinary reality.
Let’s see how the rest of this day pans out.

 

First Published by: Aphelion
Publication Date – February 2019
Issue # – Issue 236, Volume 23
Link to my Poem

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