The wheel turnsTime moves alongAge grinds you down A markerWe celebrateWith stereotyped bubbles Where did it go What was accomplishedAre we changed for the better Or are we marking time on this blue pearlWaiting for our time and turnTo come
Tag: prose
Made in Love
She who shall not be named Made us all in love With no expectations Save to be good to one another Kind words Good deeds These above all else are valued There are those who focus on the form But lose the meaning Better to be the shepherd playing the flute Than the tzadick who’s…… Continue reading Made in Love
Afterglow
Evening falls the match aflame and the whisper brings around the memories long, long past. Memories of childhood and a warm woman standing in what seemed like a huge kitchen. Today you know it would be tiny but not to your childhood memories. There expanses of formica stretched and cupboards where a tiny child could…… Continue reading Afterglow
Winter’s Forgotten Love
Among the many changes in my life has been the number of people I love who no longer know me. Sometimes I pass through a stage of fire, a stage of grief or a stage of anger. But if I loved them I eventually stand on the shore and let their memory go and try…… Continue reading Winter’s Forgotten Love
At the end of my days
All things come to an end The mayfly’s dance so short and sweet The slow existence of a star for whom we exist in the fraction of the atom’s face Seeing god’s glory We leave this world alone as we came in, Perhaps a little heavier with the memories we have accumulated Perhaps a little…… Continue reading At the end of my days
Unseen
Behind the stairs she hides at night, To behold she is a fright, Her hair it waves about, around And falls six feet to the ground Up in her tower dark and bare, No sound of music in the air, The land weighed down by shadows grim, An evil forest there within A prince of…… Continue reading Unseen
Who am I
About the only thing I’ve found consistent in my life is change mixed with unpredictability. I never thought I’d speak about my secret shame, then I surely wouldn’t transition, and then maybe not SRS despite wanting it before I knew about it. Along that route I picked up an unwanted hitchhiker in Parkinson’s, yet it…… Continue reading Who am I
Two hundred ninety five
Sometime over the next two or three weeks the counter will flip and I will have written more than three hundred posts. Non fiction mostly with a solid count of poems. Enough to fill a book, which is incredibly shocking. I wasn’t much of a writer, I still remember going to the Dartmouth bookstore, having…… Continue reading Two hundred ninety five
Pain
Pain, it focuses my mind, my eyes, It instructs and separates that which can reduce it, and all the rest that passes by I scream, but pain doesn’t care. She wears her leather vest and sneers an eternity passes while pain endures at last, damp with sweat we sit up and watch the dawn appear…… Continue reading Pain
The Hammer
Slowly it started its fall Degree by degree it moved through an arc Described by Sir Isaac, refined by some others Soon to hit the anvil Releasing the power inside It was swinging slowly now This great weight, tons of steel Toward the single point waiting the moment Patiently What would happen? At the end…… Continue reading The Hammer
My Gifted Life 