Poems: 010321 - March 1st, 2021

220221A
----------- 

It is all sad 
the way it is 
as sadness falls 
steady streaming
eroding meaning 
from desolation. 

The fun won't go
back in 
the package 
no matter how hard
we try to fold it
and push it in. 

A crowded 
empty space 
is a dwelling 
in no specifics 
or coordinates 
Anywhere. 

Fragile beings 
gathering up nerve
bundled fibres 
draped over bones 
of self important
chariot races. 

High pressure 
movements 
jettison to jettison 
believers turned
on the scramble 
along the heap. 

Pack it in 
and pack it up 
pull it down 
usual circus 
heading out 
to other towns. 

Salvage is poor 
pickings at
the sell outs
and trade offs 
going out 
of business sales. 

Flim flam 
heartbreak means
of paltry romance
broken out 
and down into 
lists of feelings.  

No one asked 
and no one told 
what it meant
to feel anything 
pushed past a point 
of social anaesthesia. 

It goes 
but it goes badly 
wondering a darkness
how to put fallen
apart pieces into
a together again. 

Wishing to choose 
which pieces 
might be saved 
and which discarded 
but it never happens
quite that way. 

They never did 
prepare us 
in those schools 
of what and when 
would likely come 
and how it would be. 

We were mud 
thrown by bad potters 
on faltering wheels 
slumping over 
half disbelieved texts
giving faux answers. 

What was wanted
has been stricken off
the delivery slip 
detailing life's offerings 
and not one line
could be fulfilled. 

We drew lots 
from a banking 
of standard stock 
accumulated phrases 
trying to work 
romantic magic. 

Eventually it means
giving up  to more
than it ever gives 
and wanting 
to ride away
into another dream. 

------------------------  

010321A
----------- 

Sweet times 
always nearly 
and sad reminisce 
on the never was 
follows ever after
the horror comes.

Too much 
that was imagined 
seemed so near 
to crossing over
that sharp edge 
into realms of being. 

In the distance 
there was always 
someone special 
entering and leaving 
to and fro drench   
of passing moments. 

It is never clear 
what was wanted 
nor what was left 
out of sight 
ever kept on edge 
at the boundaries. 

No one really 
ever sees through 
those high walls 
that make castles 
and paupers 
look as they do.  

Endless expanse 
turns our rivers
into wide seas 
lapping wounded 
shorelines of earth
stone and flesh. 

Nature is obstinate 
in its wearing 
and cutting away 
at everything 
that we desired 
and held onto. 

Sounds of waves 
caressing forever 
broken hearted 
torn gulls' wings 
and other pieces 
from fallen angels. 

They whisper 
there is nothing here 
among seaweed 
and empty shells 
beyond tearing out 
into drifts away. 

It was an illusion 
concerning choosing 
how anything ends 
gripped in throes 
made desperate 
turns of events. 

Where is any love 
in any of it 
among accretions 
forming something 
make believe 
chasing rainbows. 

---------------------- 

010321B
----------- 

There is no hello
only the goodbyes 
that were never said 
providing no reasons
for what goes on. 

The party was over 
a long time ago 
leaving the uninvited 
waiting in margins 
of policy and decision. 

Everything happens
after that 
when the clocks stop 
during the declarations 
of revolutionary fervour. 

Between everything 
that is too much 
and too little 
stands nothing at all 
always being circled. 

We go on 
with something 
nagging at fringes 
of whatever chances 
to come into mind.

See how it goes 
uttered a blind face 
feeling for any door 
that might open 
through any wall. 

The wall laughing 
and melting away 
revealing passages 
that led to last year 
and long before that. 

For any with the urge
to continue to explore
it was clear invitation 
to drop everything 
and go away forever. 

A lost thought
is railroaded out 
a high speed tunnel 
until it meets 
oncoming traffic.

The resulting crash 
makes a terrific noise
sounding every word 
that was ever said 
in an entire lifetime. 

Caretakers appear 
sweeping out the tunnel 
removing the debris 
to cart it off for sale 
to candy merchants. 

Lollipops being made
from those flavors 
creating the colours 
twirled on the pinwheel 
traditional designs.  

Sugar, sugar 
the wireless intones 
its strange bleat 
sounds of barnyard 
snap forming a chorus. 

We cannot hope 
to make our worlds 
from so much trash 
while forever trying 
to sort something out.  

Leaving wreckage
at the toll gate 
having spent time 
turning cripple feet
into dance steps. 

There is no direction 
to the choreography  
and the band is playing 
entirely out of key 
for a mute vocalist. 

They are harbingers 
of more harlequins 
intent on disaster 
randomly exploding 
audience members. 

Various body parts 
flung onto the stage
catching the wind 
from raging bellows
of wild instruments. 

The theme is a forage 
conducted by musicians 
leaving a wilderness 
entirely strip mined 
and routinely defoliated. 

Refreshment vendors 
hawking substances
work their way 
through the carnage 
of ticket holders. 

Secret policemen 
block all exits 
exerting crowd control 
and repeating
the show must go on. 

We arrived late 
and took up box seats
at the spectacle 
using opera glasses 
to gaze at the familiar. 

We laughed 
about our own attempts 
to predict endings 
on the basis of  hunches
and statistical indicators. 

Betting on outcomes 
continued into the night 
the tuxedo clad midget
offering us champagne 
and little sandwiches. 

We won 
far more than we lost 
including shrunken heads
that came in a basket 
courtesy of a local tribe. 

It was another obligation 
happily concluded 
and eventually escaped 
on a dream circuit
we had agreed to play. 

--------------------------- 


If that doesn't push you through that rabbit hole I have no idea what might do it for you.  I have declared this to be national rabbit hole day and I am not letting you out of it. You are going to be in there a long, long, time.