I Like This

There is neither a beginning nor an end.

It’s a timeline of sorts--

with speed bumps and funny illustrations

that are halted without rhyme or reason.

Procrastification

Malaise derived from disobedience
is a false excuse, to be sure.

What, then, is the perpetrator?
Not love, no, nor preoccupation.

Sure, the fate of existence hangs
in the balance of disillusionment--

but is that reason enough to sit
and dwell upon bottomless presuppositions?

Never wholly useless, no, I prove
my worth time and time again--

Just not in ways that settle
my overwrought brain.

     A gray mass of thoughtless brilliance
     clouds my pointless productivity.

River Kwai

I don’t burn bridges,

I obliterate them.

And it’s true what they say:

they do make a nice fire.

The charred remains of missed opportunities

and lost chances litter my life—

All the better.

There’s no beginning without a clean slate,

And I clean my slate often.  With fire.

      Burn!

Dazed

(and Confused)

That tangled web

woven by my restless mind

is gently made free

by your endless chatter

and warm embrace.

Revolution in a Minute

Time is divided by definition.
Arbitrary states of being
are placed into quaint little boxes
with neat, shiny labels of existence.

Limitless possibilities are rationed.
A day consists of countless variables
needlessly separated into 24 blocks
of man-made space-time.

Meaning thru Action

I talk because I enjoy talking.
I write because I enjoy writing.

No word is infallible truth--
simply conjecture.

I sustain relationships to
hone my relational skills--
no more.

A sad truth, perhaps--
yet none to satisfy my being
has come along.

Proverbial Mess

Life is an endless maze wherein we are the mice and there is no cheese at the end.

By declaring it

impossible to write

poetry. It isn’t.

All that is, is but a dream.

Symmetry is a lie.

Near the end,

it’s just a thought,

just a few moments.

Moving on is

not forgetting.

You can’t judge a life by notation.

The simplest anecdote—

lasts a lifetime in the mind.

“There’s too much,

and so little feels important.

What do you do?”

An ice-cream scoop taken

right from my heart

atop your sundae of

dreaded individuality.

“Happiness isn’t a goal,

just a byproduct”

Of what, exactly?

“If we can’t have everything,

true perfection is nothingness.”