Poems: 120421 - April 12th, 2021

100421A
------------ 

Encountering beauty 
there is no knowing 
what to say. 

Wanting to save
fragile moments 
in vulnerable times. 

Knowing any
is investigative facts 
that are always ugly. 

Brutal points 
of intrusive tacks 
in strategic games. 

A cruel science 
getting called in
to look into things. 

If only there were 
some other way 
to approach questions. 

Everything we give up 
in understanding 
there is no understanding. 

We love it 
or we don't 
short of explanations. 

An understanding 
never really reached 
by negotiation. 

No need to differ 
in any way
about differences. 

Coming closer 
is often too far away 
from the details. 

It has long gone 
too far beyond  
and it keeps going. 

Dreading improprieties 
and the irrational 
we hide among subjects. 

An expanding repertoire
taking prompter cues 
suited to public venues. 

Deformed dramas 
strutted out 
into plain view. 

Trying to prove
still capable of polite
conversations. 

Theatre d'absurd 
of making simple
appear complicated. 

The Evasives 
litter streets with senses
of scattered purpose. 

The more meaningless 
the better everyone feels 
at time to go home. 

Covering ourselves up 
threads of fabric languages
bituminous with meanings. 

Hiding in pyramids 
of everything wraps up 
tiresome crowds. 

Under a watchful eye
sunny day excitements
caught as highlights. 

Preserved something 
that is nothing really
of our selves. 

The masque 
is aversive formality
sketched features. 

Trying to make it 
look good 
for any audience. 

We are led to doubts 
that anyone allows 
abandoning the facts. 

Anchoring weight 
drag down under 
infinity deep. 

Down deep
where praise pulls  
down deeper. 

Quicksand facts 
pour through the holes 
Reason creates. 

Less and less
difference between 
minds and machine guns. 

It is fast or slow 
pull down menus 
to the same places. 

We are forced spotlight 
circled outside 
realms of possibilities. 

Feelings kept out
in darkness 
beyond the perimeter.

Even twilight 
becomes too much 
wrestling shadows. 

Invisible guards appear
stationed in towers 
four quarters shoot out. 

Myths seen dying 
in a plaza litter
of other precious things. 

There must be something 
other than to keep burying 
what we could relate to. 

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

110421B
------------ 

If life is a story 
it is easy to understand 
why one wants 
what one wants 
so very much more
and if not getting that 
then to write 
some better endings 
having had no say 
in the beginning
or in most 
of the dark chapters 
that were written in 
by ghost writers
in between. 

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

110421C
----------- 

She looked perfect 
to my broken eyes 
but that made me fear
my own imperfections
made visible. 

The fate of the light 
in its dance 
with the dark
reveals everything 
as hidden flaws.  

What is this matter 
other than the mess 
we fell into 
craving for the limits 
of a reaching sight. 

Particles cultured 
pearls of wisdom
fearing decay
along their strings 
of coincidence. 

We love impurely 
in admixtures 
that skitter away 
from crucibles 
and mercuric intent. 

We look for places
to hide passions
from the light 
falls far behind 
all of  its history. 

Afraid to build 
what others break 
and take away 
in a savage fog 
of civilizations. 

The clumsiness 
of any love letter 
where each word 
betrays the secrets 
that it never tells. 

We look for ways 
to barter 
insignificance 
into something. 

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

110421D
------------ 

Doctor, doctor 
what is wrong with me 
and really nothing 
heals that way. 

Pain is the comfort
for not having gone 
to entirely numb 
in abandoned regions. 

Explorations 
into our lost tribes 
and it was customary 
as to cultural practice. 

The body a longing 
that long failed
to live up  
to its promises. 

Ghetto souls 
at intersection meetings 
painted and lit up
common lines. 

What everyone did 
and expected 
in roll over play 
at nine to five. 

We have left 
various war zones 
fighting the urges 
and calls to abandon. 

Something surrendered
in behind 
ongoing scenes 
and tactical displays. 

Looking to the sky 
to shelter us 
from storms
on the wide open. 

Breaking silence 
amid radio noise 
cutting through 
the red and white. 

Ribbons of asphalt 
slice through privacy 
on long haul routes
to scarce glimpses. 

Search parties 
sent out 
following rumoured 
something better. 

It never is 
more than a test pilot
checking out the controls
of a failed project. 

Silence proves deadly
when broadcasting 
on strangle wires
and wireless devices. 

Pick and choose 
mass processed forms 
of casual selection 
being timed. 

Skill sets 
sorted collections 
beginning in compilers 
of statistical probability. 

Defies Reason 
and its scars
clothing urban critique
informed sprawls.

The cover up 
throw over 
the wear marks 
that come with desires. 

Scuff the shuffle 
carried on 
and carried off 
during changeovers. 

Background machine
music rooms 
Karaoke motors
drone their hum songs. 

Something lyrical 
but no one listens 
comes adrift 
across the pond. 

They stopped 
advertising damaged 
goods for quick sale 
to roadside markets. 

The message goes out
we are going 
over the line 
of feeling the dark. 

Something up close
in a pun of nights 
spent at lists 
being sacrificed. 

Going over 
the other side 
of the walls 
we don't believe in. 

Whatever took 
such a long time 
among falling out 
and falling back. 

Deep feelings 
disturb the mirror 
surfaces turned
so many eyes. 

It doesn't matter 
what is seen 
by the blind 
who see it all. 

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

120421A
------------  

Tore up the directives 
saying how and what 
where, when, and why
pen is sword  
and sword is pen. 

Taken up 
feather light 
flight along 
gesture winds 
chasing arguments. 

A long way 'round 
to being told 
what ink blots say 
to unimaginative minds
put into print. 

It is all about 
what goes in 
and what comes out 
in official interpretations
current version numbers. 

It is all in the manual 
if you know where to look
and after that 
you cannot say a thing
past index entries. 

Lost the word count 
but kept on adding 
to the sentences 
gathered at odd numbered
political convictions. 

Getting nowhere 
with the dry material 
committing more
sins of memory 
between interrupts. 

Knew a man 
who could recite 
every sound 
he ever wrote 
but he didn't write much. 

Once believed 
in knowing words 
opening doors 
but that isn't anymore
past administration. 

Tip of the hat 
from someone 
who made a pitch 
they were all sold on 
long before I came.   

There will be a reprint 
sooner and later 
correcting the mistakes
that were left out
from consideration. 

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