I recently realized I’ve become part of a trend. Apparently, not wanting to spend your waking hours feeling drained of your time and energy is in fashion. I didn’t know just how much of a thing it had become until I already had one foot out the door.
As a fresh year stretches its sleepy arms and we’re all shaking off the last little bits of holiday spirit, I have the perfect suggestion for one last gift. A gift to ourselves and others. It’s the kind of gift that becomes more useful the more it’s given away, and…
Casting veils on unsuspecting small-talkers
while I hide behind the translucent web
and become caught in a net
of my own making
Here you can’t see me
but can witness only the shape
of what I choose to show you
The Great Amorphous Shifter
Wind-blown sand sifter
Peeking through the…
I will pass through the portal.
I will not be unscathed
but scarred with the burns of seven-layer uncertainty
and prickled slices of this bramble ridden passage.
It doesn’t take much to make it through.
Just enough back-pocket willpower
to keep the Shawshank shimmy alive. …
I told him to be careful climbing those steps. I told him that the closer he came to the top, the harder it would be to turn back, to walk away.
Now, as I see him standing near the peak, I can tell he’s hesitant. In all honesty, it’s not…
I wake up with the bags under my eyes full to bursting with accumulated dream dew.
Day after day, the drips and drops of unfettered abstraction have carved their tributaries through my mind, coalescing into a mass of unacknowledged potential just under my line of sight. There it remained, like…
Concentric in my line of sight
Ripples of decisions made
and moments of defining trajectory
Slicing through time
in this ephemeral machine
with inherent obsolescence
and leaving behind none but the wake
of simmering terrain
and unstable elements
In my life I have known
only circles and squares
My two eyes are open, yet a third seems to emerge eager to join the fun.
It possesses a chemical clarity afforded only to those with a curiosity about what’s behind reality’s curtain.
That, or anyone with a spare ten bucks.
Two tabs on the tongue, salty air in a…
With a final enthusiastic huff and puff, my hand reaches out and grabs a sign post marked “End of Trail.” Along with two wooden benches settled on either side of it, the three fixtures make up the only greeting party at the end of my one-man race.
As I catch…