Poems

Vocation

A baker sees the world in terms of hunger and sustaining. And scents of toasty, secure warmth. A certain delight that comes with passing risen grasses and sugars through the mouth. A carpenter sees planks in trees. Possibility on a hillside. Space within a frame tied by nails and drywall. An artist sees things to …

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Daybreak

Must one convince the self that the world is full of wonders? Or is it just so? The dawn sky delivers awe to a man, but why? Why make a fuss about gray on pink on orange on white on blue? And Jackson Pollack splashes of higher clouds beyond that. Was any of it better …

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Within

And the day is a process of delusion. One wakens with some clarity then layers gum onto the eyes as the hours pass. Gum from yesterday. Gum from an imagined tomorrow. Seldom a care for what’s afoot. Almost always an emerging misunderstanding. One is supposed to arise and clear the gum of the night’s dream. …

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Journey

And she said, “Journey,” like she’s on some kind of a reasoned itinerary. “This is my journey.” “How’s your journey?” And the man couldn’t help but pilfer it. “Your journey couldn’t be less significant.” She teared up. “My journey brought me to you,” she said. “I couldn’t be less significant,” he said. He continued . …

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Thou art

Sitting around with the glow of a pre-dawn street lamp – one notices what it is. Of course, it’s energy from the sun re-routed through a power plant. And from there, re-routed through the byproducts of decayed vegetation from millennia before. But the glow is more than that. Against the black, it pulses rings and …

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