Posts tagged ‘writing’

November 16, 2014

Snowscape

This Snowscape so quiet;

Not a bird,
Not a car,
Not a sound…

Whiteness covers the world,
Layering atop the frozen ground.

November 15, 2014

Paper for Paper

We are dictated by ink and dead trees.

We create paper,
To be judged on paper,
To attain paper,
In hopes that that paper will put paper into our pockets;

-Paper for paper.

We are dictated by ink and dead trees;
-This paper,

Any way you call it.

***

Ink:: “Ink can be a complex medium, composed of solvents, pigments, dyes, resins, lubricants, solubilizers, surfactants, particulate matter, fluoresces, and other materials. The components of inks serve many purposes; the ink’s carrier, colorants, and other additives affect the flow and thickness of the ink and its appearance when dry.”

Paper: “Paper is a thin material produced by pressing together moist fibers, typically cellulose pulp derived from wood,rags or grasses, and drying them into flexible sheets. Paper is a versatile material with many uses. Whilst the most common is for writing and printing upon, it is also widely used as a packaging material, in many cleaning products, in a number of industrial and construction processes, and even as a food ingredient – particularly in Asian cultures.”

November 14, 2014

Theatre Our Selves

What play to our mirrors
Coming to for our peers
Gains a perfect little show
Moved to smiles and tears.

We cannot drop this act
Because of love- the fact:
That we are truly ourselves
Only inside of our house.

November 12, 2014

Connect to St. Paul

Follow steam as it floats
On our daily commute,
Orange eastern horizon,
Thoughts of warm soup.

Eyes locked on the bus
Swaying back and forth,
Come along on this ride,
Again, feeling so north.

Travelling tainted ways,
Thinking of pins and pine,
Bundled people walking-
Beyond the glass, outside.

Seasons to be discussed,
Roads to pass as we go,
Men in boots and gloves
Shovel hard at the snow.

Now these sitters travel
Careful as what to pack,
Each to make way here,
In hopes to make it back.

What more could we ask?
What more could we ask?

November 4, 2014

Lind Hall in the Fall

Minus an hour,
Gained moonlight;
In the cold wind that blows,
Under moonlit skies.

Trees spoke to shadows—distant,
As the wind rustled
Through long hung dried leaves.

-A paper-rattle crescendo.

Night fell in the Fall;
With these empty halls, abandoned stairs, to exit doors freely.

What a season came in,
What off cry sustained.

October 26, 2014

A Toast to the Fake

Real is as real as the best fakery that could;
if it wasn’t, it wouldn’t work-
And by not working it’d prove no good.

When the fakest of fake, take the best from the most,
don’t sob in the shadows,
bask in the light,
and give them a toast!

Cheers!

October 24, 2014

Driving Around Town

Driving around town in a small truck
What is black and spots of rust
Casually burning off dewed steam
Cruising around amidst a day-dream
Remotely relaxed at assigned red stop
Cautiously avoiding few local cops
Riding through this quaint little town
One would hope to not get found
A village in rearview present
Life, time of reminiscence pleasant
Coming down for family and funerals
City opposed typical, simple, usual
Though it were anything out of the ordinary
One might even see something extraordinary
Appearance placeholder; -one’s perception
Holding wheel tight, releasing tension
Midwest-mild resulting in interpretation
Contemplate while we cross this situation.

October 21, 2014

The North Shore

Drift wood lie on the ground bent
Fixed there in midday sun ease,
Exhausted on mind’s fickle intent
Hard resting, come at fast release

Visible footprints mark this stroll,
Paths we meet coming toward,
Gambling dice we take a roll
Wagering what value we can afford

Making way we wander ’round
Pleasantly procured- what sight we sought;
Relishing that which we have found,
Making play with thoughts wrought

Likewise we stand the surrounding wilderness we stare,
Taking inside us breath, becoming alive through fresh air.

October 3, 2014

Seasonable Clock

Even the morning seems acutely somber
Broad clouded skies hold steady longer
Green leaves thick ripped from their place
Void departed relatives we save nigh space
Juxtapose this deep cutting- chilled contrast
Waiting for summer’s waning neb to fast pass
Vexed by cruel and unrelenting, stiff nature
Fool-heartedly with their lives they wager
On a single day we wish to stay the same
On forcible winds we wish to have changed
Man can live amongst this time and watch,
As he winds the seasonable swift ticking clock.

October 2, 2014

Thoughts on Things

As children we think in terms of proximity;
Things, places, and people will never leave our side.

As adults we deal in terms of affinity,
Reading more into the subjective lives we’ve tried.

As intellects it does wonders to ask questions,
-On stories that we choose to over again and over again cite.

As consumers it’s important to exercise frugality,
Blocking ourselves from the things we want, but need not buy.

As spokespeople it proves important to create a lesson,
I want you to exist this way, and avoid becoming like that.

As human beings it’s hard to mention,
How we view the many diverse lives that cross our paths.

***

We are but memory, action, and experience.

***

Water comes from the skies,
and even bad grapes are good raisins.

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