somewhat grey

incidental
yet so real –
to not be seen,
in ones recovery…
 
enigmatic as sight
must seem,
to one who cannot see!
 
how did the great,
become –
recumbent,
good?

night used to shower us in starlight;
prelude to morning sun…
ostentatious as full-moon!
but now,
there is no hole in the shroud of darkness…
and finding our – selves –
all alone,
intensifies the insecurity…
 
life raft – lost at sea.
addiction,
without the comfort of –
an addict!

all at once – alone…

5-31-61
my moment of glory.
a mere drop in the ocean of time.
for what it’s worth,
the entrance was no less grand than
that of Mendelssohn,
or Debussy,
or even – van Gogh!
the difference, however,
realized now in retrospect,
occurring over the
span of time –
My life…
 
culling through the memories,
picking out the fond ones to savor,
the hulls to cast aside –
i find few to etch in stone.
like the spider spinning his web,
all it takes is a strong wind,
and all at once –
alone!

disallowed

what purpose –
words.
 
manipulated expression designed to un-intend.
 
regardless the inquisition –
in spite of implied affirmation –
sometimes the only resolution comes from silence.
 
and if,
by chance –
you feel disconnected –
disallowed –
pushed outside the doorway of necessary,
perhaps your key was not designed to fit the lock –
 
just maybe,
the door was never meant to open…