I Gained What i lost

I’ve lost the god they've placed upon me,
He is not with me now,
I don’t know if he ever was.
To have such truths, fiction, and words from a bible,
I must spend time in someone else’s world,
Not mine,

There is an encroaching calm,
A growing sense of self,
Happiness made of an endorphic furnace
There is no waiting for another life to begin
It’s here now.

The Elements of Cognition

Why did I take so long to learn to listen?

Why did I wait so long to ask questions?

Who should I listen to now that there is no one left to ask, then learn?

Who will listen to me?

Why should they?

Will they?

?

Marbled Halls

the rhythmic tap of hard leather on polished stone
a transference of energy from heel to mid sole
inert sounds generated from
an empty echo reverberates then quickly starts to fade
then again the next shoe strikes stone
starting the sequence once more
An arrhythmic pulse infused with urgent restraint,
always corners to turn, wide expanses to traverse, doors to open,
So much distance between answers.

Medusa bones must lie here within these walls
buttressed serpents emerge from granite spires
a concert of gently measured notes playing with the stained light
turning flesh into rock
stilling forever the heart
a siren's song, a protective sight
the scream of silence reverberates.

Sediment

When all the mixture of the day settles to the ground,
when the roar of a departing plane loses its crackle,
as the sun drops behind the cloud, becomes heavy, then falls into dark.
A feeling of remembrance, a youthful interlude
delivered on the distant sound of a crowd at a little league game
Standing still in the twilight, a starkness that creates a nucleus.
As a grain of sand tumbles down a river bed
the current unappreciative of its existence
not knowing every constituent but knowing all are needed
to make whole of the river.

Flashes of childhood sprinkle down from afar,
to form a fine layer of cosmic dust
a surface that now glints in light, seeping inside a graying mind.
The skinned knee from falling off your bike,
getting lost during summer camp in the mountains
caught in the current of a riptide following out to sea.
So then, from which direction does memory come,
or is that just a myth, a dream becoming reality,
Collectives, recollections continually lost in factoid processes
put together anew by a repeated meter, a new chord
the totality of wholeness that can never be fully comprehended
yet always the base of every day thought.

Darkened Bright

Dark, so very, very dark
the deepest purple glint
of a swirling black curtain
streams forth from an uncontained mind
alluvial fingers flowing back into rivers of themselves.

Desert sands seen only as blowing dust
ground from within a vulcanized soul
lifted by winds heard before seen
scaring obsidian with arching swirls
crescent reflections of the moon's gaze.

The sounds of silence will be given away
history unwritten always better kept in memory's fold
held by thought not yet lost in ancient words
as if to describe what has already been written in stone
observant success over assimilative failure.

Fool's gold sparkles from a granite face
tells of many dreams the land has spawned
a Sonoran sun that still shines at night
giving back the day after it withdraws it last rays
brightness in the nocturnal world.