Moon Madness circa 2014

Pulling back tonight.
Put in the frame of universal truth
and relative influence of you and me
and the full moon promising to wow us all
only a spin away.

 
The moon will coax the tides at the least
and if you ask the triage nurse at the General downtown
you’ll hear wild tales of lunar provocation.

Super Moon - March 19 2011 Moments later the cloud

 
 

Is this moon madness of a sort? 
Surely the ebb and flow,
the constancy,
the drama reflected from this whirlpool
defy casual comparison with lesser icons.

 

What twisted star will confess
to trickery or cruel taunting
to have led you to me?
Which daughter of Zeus is laughing to see the wreckage of her joke?

The path we’ve walked is strewn
with the debris of thwarted hopes,
unanswered questions,
scorched sensibilities.
Distilling and sorting
tossing and keeping 
thoughts and words and feelings.

 

The woman,vulnerable, numb, suspended in time
stuck in a corner waiting for rediscovery,
Reawakened
jarring reminder  she was alive
 freshly aware of sexuality tightly wrapped
unfurling and open  to her suitor’s ardent overtures
responding to his promised masculinity in a way unpredicted by either.

 

The genie is out of the bottle 
whispering in their ears of forbidden delights
best kept corked.
Effervescence threatens to overflow
to drown them both
if passions recognized but not realized
are turned loose toward their goal.

 

Ambivalence prevails  thwarting the magnet’s pull 
artificial distractions offer temporary respite from planned action.
To their respective corners awaiting a signal never identified
yet known with primitive feelers
testing the waters tilling the earth
wound too tight …waiting.

 

Acting out
out of the box-looking for signs 
hanging on tight, clinging to past paradigms.
Would welcome the innocent shove of a grinning gremlin
nodding and knowing and waiting.

 

Someone Else’s Drummer

Someone Else’s Drummer

I saw my shrink today
and pronounced myself cured
I came home tonight
understanding what that meant

Cured of trying to REASON you out of my thoughts
Cured of believing I’ll ever stop caring
Cured of the hope – even the dream
That someday we’ll find a way

Gone is the hope
But not the yearning
My dream has faded
while desire grows and need persists

And so the struggle continues,
once more behind a mocking mask
projecting rational thoughts,
trying to fool the world.

How many of us
live our lives pretending,
marching to the beat
of someone else’s drummer?

Zombieland

Zombieland isn’t half as bad as reputation alludes

The place I have in mind is a mindless boring pit

but looking better by the day

half way there by lunch tomorrow

No more crying jags that last 2 hours

No more disappointments, no more slammed doors

No more ambushed dreams

 

Just a numbing inertia- driven tub of dulled

nerve endings shrouded by molasses thick apathy.

Sight dimmed by dusty cobwebs.

Ears tuned to the ordinary.

Thoughts never straying to dangerous places.

Hopes abandoned.

Sweet thoughts erased.

 

Last flicker dimmed deprived of air

choking on truth afflicted with blindness

what is real, what is imagined

matters not when all is gone forever

many painful losses should have paved the way

for this most hurtful time of all

Abandoned, lost, no more trust to give.

 

Cruel irony played a trick

when blindsided by a passion

never dreamed of feeling

Whimsical fates intervened

upending my ordered world

adding unanswered longings to a

newly wakened sensibility

 

So my friend you see that

Zombieland is meant for one like me

a perfect fit for an imperfect heart

that lost direction while seeking nothing at all.

that lost her mind to the riddles never solved

and handed her soul to a stranger.

now waiting for oblivion.

 

A redo from 2012 

The Right Thing

When I can look into your eyes
brush my fingertips across your cheek
and breathe in your reality
only then will I know 
the right thing to do.
Right for you
right for me
and throw off doubts and questions.
 
Plans are presented in black and white
limited to logistical concerns.
Our unknowns will flounder
beyond the scope of micro management
to be revealed and resolved
at a time and in a manner 
subject to the pressures of fate.
 
I will succumb to the power of the tide
and not fight the errant wind
If that is where my inner muse directs me.
No script to follow – I’ll listen to my heart.
No finger wagging critics – internal or external
to censure 
And I’ll know it is right.
Hummingbird enjoying breakfast