Monday, January 25, 2016

WHAT IT FEELS LIKE



these days the suffering surrounds us
like a biker gang, cloudy thoughts
hanging like exhaust over the roar
of our pain. punches rain down

from toothless fools, fueled
by our actual sins, yet caught up in the false
violence that arises from the fear
of loss, an accumulation of tragedy

and the mounting burdens
of old age and empathy.


Tuesday, January 12, 2016

LESS


 
don’t apologize
for silence, that blank non-
space where the brain takes
a break to circumnavigate
the detritus of so much
stimulus. and don't say sorry
for being alone sometimes.

we go away to get 
sane again. solitude and silence
save us, the absence of pain
in the form of people and ideas,
a place full of less
where we can really listen
to all of the nothingness.