One Last Time

WHAT SHOULD I WRITE?

What should I write?
One more night, one chance to get it.
What should I write?
So close, another end in sight.
So few words. Have I done my bit?
Will I walk away, life unwrit?
What should I write?

Politics Is Getting To Me

A LIBERAL’S LAMENT

Such greedy old men hoarding all the gold,
Believing they alone deserve the best.
They rape the earth and plunder, feeling bold—
Their hardened hearts are sicker than the rest,
Those beating faintly in the nation’s breast.
A country bleeding out, its children grieve
A dying nation murdered by these thieves.

Maybe things aren’t really this bad. Maybe I’m overreacting, having a bad day. I don’t know. Lately, it seems that greed is winning, and I don’t recognize the country I grew up in. I haven’t always identified myself as a liberal. I’ve preferred to maintain an independent status, moderate, sometimes conservative fiscally. But lately? I feel pushed to the extremes in response to this unbridled avarice that seems to be the driving force behind the current administration. I think I need to disconnect from the news and read a good book.

Playing Around With Punctuation

I AM NOT I (1)

I am not I
within this self reside the all
I am not I
just empty space, a cloudless sky
light passes through before nightfall
summons spirit to life recall
I am not I

I am. Not I
within this self. Reside the all
I am not. I,
just empty space, a cloudless sky
light passes through. Before nightfall
summons spirit to life, recall—
I am not I.

I am not. I
within. This self resides. The all
I am. Not I,
just empty. Space, a cloudless sky
light passes through before nightfall.
Summon spirit to life! Recall
I am. Not I.

I. Am not I
within this self? Reside. The all
I am. Not I,
just empty space. A cloudless sky.
Light passes through. Before nightfall,
summon spirit. To life recall.
I. Am not I?

I AM NOT I (2)

I am not I
within this self reside the all
I am not I
unasked who meet unanswered why
sun rises in the void nightfall
molecules don’t meet here after all
I am not I

I am not I.
Within this self reside the all
I am not. I
unasked who meet unanswered. Why?
Sun rises in the void. Night falls.
Molecules don’t meet here. After all,
I am not I.

Thought For a Rainy Monday

COULD THIS BE GRACE?

What if there is no inner me to find?
No matter how I search, there’s nothing there.
I meditate to tame my soul; my mind
Laughs wickedly. It asks me if I dare
Explore the boundaries of self and air.
The deeper that I fall into that space,
The less of me exists. Could this be grace?

Have I found god existing in this place
Between the solid self and spirit’s cast?
This emptiness, nowhere yet everyplace,
The nothing that dissolves what’s left. At last
I am not I, and future melds with past,
While time and self and god now intertwined
Erase me, leaving life lived undefined.

Inching Forward

MY PLACE IN LINE

I took my place in line when just a child,
Convinced so young that I did not belong.
I’ve waited patiently, but all the while
I watch dismayed as others move along.
They seem to cut the line; some god beguiled
Allows their passage swiftly, while I wait.
Why such a line to pass through heaven’s gate?