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This week’s poem must speak for itself, as I am lost for words. Sometimes there is just too much to say, too much to express, too many facets. Sometimes a few words must point the direction, and the reader must do the rest.
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A shriveled seed
Soaked in water,
Sprouting
.
Traveling a map,
At the edge,
Life
.
Things never believed in
Made real,
You.
.
Kampala, 2019
Today’s poem, inspired by everyday events.
Perfection
Perhaps the most perfect evening ever,
Though there is nothing very spectacular
As it fades in various darkening shades of blue and gold,
The chorus of love-sick cicadas and birds making their final calls
Can’t drown out the not-very distant roar of traffic,
Air is cooling, though bricks remember the heat of an hour ago,
Nothing very remarkable, but something, anyhow,
That makes it all worthwhile.
Kampala 2019
A second poem, after the long break, just to show that I have been writing, and it isn’t all gloom.
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Spread of moisture through sponge,
Emptiness pulling from within,
Nature filling vacuums,
Energy equalizing,
Slow spread through soft tissue.
Flowers opening in sunlight,
The first slipping of cells never parted,
Letting go of what grew together.
Fruit ripening,
Sweetness seeping from and towards light,
Mystic of nature’s chemistry,
Changes that bring us back to the start.
Leaves drying
Sap slowing, thinning
Connections gently severed
Carried by a breeze to make room
First for winter.
Then new growth.
.
Kampala
2018
Finally, after endless technical and inspiration issues and complications my website is working again.
This first poem is inspired by life’s complications at a time in my life which is, to misquote Charles Dickens, the best of times, but also the complex-est of times.
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It’s complicated,
While I mindfully try to think with only one voice,
A babble of voices shouting other regretfully thoughts,
Distractions from moving towards where I’m trying to go to make sure I avoid
Getting there.
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I’d express it,
If I didn’t worry so much about what they might think,
They, who’ll probably never read it, and almost definitely not get it,
Who I don’t care much about anyway, and certainly have no idea what they feel
Or think.
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It’s not that simple,
The layers on confusingly contradictory layers,
I hold that evolving view until new evidence comes to light,
Contradicting, reinforcing or utterly disproving while I passionately try to explain
Mainly to myself.
.
It’s fascinating,
Yet even I am not listening with much focus as double,
Triple tasking, one screen flickering blue in the background, while another
Trembles for my attention, there’s early morning birdsong calling to my soul
But also breaking news.
.
I’m surviving
Strong as steel in the face of bone crushing circumstances,
Thoughtfully supportive, logically dealing with more than everything
Or pathetically procrastinating on unimportant, insignificant detail,
I’ll finish this afternoon
.
Kampala 2019
Testing, testing