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Joy
initially he feels no joy not even intention the calm is a masquerade a mirage beguiling a surface not so much ready to explode but a surface ready to fold in on itself like light disappearing into a black hole then he gazes upon beautiful living things moving to survive in the moment some so quick he can barely see them others so slow they appear still all of this on a tiny spec of dust in a vast universe amongst universes he exhales each breath giving him a moment to think and wonder and feel joy
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words
some kind like warm summer rain words some hurtful like cold ice pellets words flow to and fro swirl around me never sinking too deep into smooth layers of my psyche a psyche seasoned like old barnboard grey, weathered, resilient remaining constant undisturbed present awash in a storm of words |
AuthorI started my "Poem-A-Day" writing exercise back in 2010. It was a way to get into the habit of writing everyday. It took awhile but once I got into it I really enjoyed the process. I took a break in 2023 to work on getting "Carbon Copy" into the wild. I also wanted to re-read my poem-a-day scribblings to see if there were any unpolished gems amongst the rubble. My plan is to post one per week in my Blog. Find "Carbon Copy" at: Archives
July 2025
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