mind's work

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Poetry

mind's work

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Poetry

mind's work

seasons change -
        & leaves do leave...

& feeling lost hopes slip away -
        you will in you believe.

just as night creeps out of day -
        & feelings have their range...

the mind works slowly to relieve -
        all things that cannot change.

all things: which cannot change.

Other poems

entropy

wandering – not wondering;
        not praying for, nor pondering...

gods, lovers, & house flies –
        closed-eyed watch the world go by.

& time just ticks: you & me;
        time to rue, time to see...

time to discuss, out of disgust –
        that which we of ourselves distrust.

& withering to cosmic dust;
        no brilliant hues, no pretty rust...

we shall recall, & come to miss –
        the lives we did not let exist.

a life we could not: let exist.

wandering – not wondering;
        not praying for, nor pondering...

gods, lovers, & house flies –
        closed-eyed watch the world go by.

& time just ticks: you & me;
        time to rue, time to see...

time to discuss, out of disgust –
        that which we of ourselves distrust.

& withering to cosmic dust;
        no brilliant hues, no pretty rust...

we shall recall, & come to miss –
        the lives we did not let exist.

a life we could not: let exist.

May 22, 2002

wandering – not wondering;
        not praying for, nor pondering...

gods, lovers, & house flies –
        closed-eyed watch the world go by.

& time just ticks: you & me;
        time to rue, time to see...

time to discuss, out of disgust –
        that which we of ourselves distrust.

& withering to cosmic dust;
        no brilliant hues, no pretty rust...

we shall recall, & come to miss –
        the lives we did not let exist.

a life we could not: let exist.

May 22, 2002

dried leaves danced upon the street -
though never really keeping beat.

(& for a moment: thinking ceased -
        soul allowing entry to
        . . .
        the deepest kind of peace.)

dried leaves danced upon the street -
though never really keeping beat.

(& for a moment: thinking ceased -
        soul allowing entry to
        . . .
        the deepest kind of peace.)

Feb 18, 2002

dried leaves danced upon the street -
though never really keeping beat.

(& for a moment: thinking ceased -
        soul allowing entry to
        . . .
        the deepest kind of peace.)

Feb 18, 2002

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