Posts for June 2, 2025 (page 6)

The chains have come, wound
tighter than yesterday,
no forward progress, 
stalled
despite struggles to free myself.
And that’s the thing that nobody gets;
I am struggling.
Mightily.
Pulling, clawing, but
all anyone can see
is an impassive face,
compressed attitude, 
folded in on itself,
a gravity well that sucks
everything up and leaves nothing.
It is hard to move,
no forward progress, 
but through the dark
one thought surfaces,
it can’t stay like this forever
and I am
a little less heavy
than before.

Eenie, meenie, minie, mo
Catch a liar quid pro quo
Take his tongue and off we go
Eenie, meenie, minie, mo 

Eenie, meenie, minie, mo 
Slice it, dice it, roll in dough
Deep fry four hours in Crisco
Eenie, meenie, minie, mo

Eenie, meenie, minie, mo
We made a pick for the banjo 
Yee haw we dance with crows
Eenie, meenie, minie, mo 

Eenie, meenie, minie, mo
Granny does the dosey doe
Oh my Lord how low she goes
Eenie, meenie, minie, mo 

Eenie, meenie, minie, mo
What does he get quid pro quo
Come on now you surely know
He keeps his teenie man cargo 

This desperate want
a starving dream
of insatiable hunger
exacerbated by the presence,
the ongoing radiance,
of your smile
enough to eradicate
the previously perceived importance
of existence’s needs
for you are the very air
of my lungs
the only necessary nourishment
of my body and soul…
and the despairing of awaking, no
of being
is despicable
for your embrace is without now,
only existent among the angels
and whim to Morpheus’s grace…
I cannot bear anymore.

I want to say,
“After all, isn’t everyone forgotten eventually?”

& then I remember all the writers,
long gone, whose names are spoken
& whose texts are printed for study

& I remember my mother’s pink granite stone
& how my grandmother cleans stones older than hers
to make the names legible
so they’ll be remembered

Do I want to be remembered?
I guess, even if I’m buried under an unmarked tree,
that decision isn’t up to me

so much words
cannot describe

so many words
we hide behind

we bide our time
and pine for those
old days gone by

now we’ve memorized
all our lines:

“thanks for asking
things are fine”

“it will get better
in a while”

“was only something
in my eye”

“every story has
two sides”

“what reason would
I have to lie”

so much words
cannot describe

Twice, now.

He is present in my dreams, still as his role.
Watching, but not always. Reminding, even when quiet.
I wonder what he wants.
I wonder what I want.

Perhaps I dream of him because I long for a witness.
To be seen so fiercely, to feel so safely—
For only one hour a week, paid.

Perhaps, what I want is just that:
A dream.

I am a temple
One that rots from the inside
There’s no solace here

plans lie in wait
claims barked supple
necessitate clarity

]I want
I want
I want
I want
I want
to feel healed

]you need
you nee
you n
d you
ed you
n

why estrange ,chaos
spring her snare
there is n[
] want
you
me

imagine else
imagine other
enact
synapse
tasks of
]not your

servant
]your
a-health
]your hole
or burden

push
puncture the surface
pull
needle and thread
weaving prayers and stars
hopes
dreams
meeting ancestors round circle
as we stitch
what lies beyond the mind
onto canvas
through generations back
push
pierce the veil
pull
visions and smoke
let rise
the prayers
bone
deep