Poetry

Poetry

Poetry Collection

I am starting to organize the poems that are on this website.

I normally post my poems simply as blog posts, usually after spending some time editting them.

However, so are posted as fairly raw drafts.

Eventually, I go back, revise some of the poems, and place them into a structure related to other poems. It helps me think about how my poems interrelate. Hopefully, it will be helpful to you as well.

Some poems end up in a section at the bottom of uncategorized poems. These are often poems I haven't gone back to work on or to think about how they relate to other poems.

In particular, poems that I write during periods where I post a poem a day end up in this section.

There are links below to navigate through the different sections, subsections, and the poems within each subsection.

(Categories: )

The Airport

For ages,
I have been a luggage handler
at the airport of
the emotionally damaged.

I have seen all kinds of baggage;
big and bulky,
sturdy suffering that lasts forever,
and the carefully crafted carry-on,
made to look intentional, beautiful,
though perhaps not as functional.

These days,
the carry-on baggage
is carefully scanned
to make sure
the lotions we bear
to mask the scent
of human suffering
won’t be used
destructively.

I, too, wander these corridors
looking for companions,
fellow travelers,
who can share the burdens
or at least help me
pass the time.

Listless travelers peruse
the latest self-help titles,
titillating romances,
or perhaps even
some recent nonfiction,
although current fake news
makes it harder to differentiate.

Others
stop at gift shops
seeking a trinket
for the loved ones
who miss us
hoping
the stuffed armadillo
will make the absence
a little more forgivable.

It is busier than normal
in a lonely tea shop
on a Silent Saturday morn
as the passengers,
delayed by Good Friday’s storms,
seek new ways
of getting home.

The wake will await their arrival;
the joys of reunion,
even though we wish it were in happier times
remains.

We check our tickets,
the departure board,
and seek our boarding gate.
Then we hasten our gait
to hurry and wait
in yet another line.

Soon, we will be home
and then travel again
in the never ending journey.

(Categories: )

Fear of Becoming

I am afraid
of stepping outside
of my comfort zone

I am afraid
of entering
the unknown quadrant
of the Johari window.

I am afraid
of confronting
my unconscious
incompetencies.

I am afraid
of being ashamed
of what I discover
and what I reveal.

I am afraid
of delving deeper
into the unknown
and becoming
unknowable.

Yet this is where
the magic happens
This is where
we become like
the incomprehensible
divine
mystery.

The Labyrinth and The Rhizome

The labyrinth is fairly simple
though there are many turns
there is only one way forward
and the question is
do we mindfully persevere.

The rhizome is much more complicated
but much more forgiving.
At each step we are faced
with many choices
and every choice
is the right one.

(Categories: )

Infancy

We start off
as infant solipsists.
We are all that exist,
and our sensations.

We sense hunger
and wetness
and if these senses don’t change
we emit another
existential scream.

We perceive an image
we will later call
a face
and as it changes
we feel happiness
we might hear sounds,
or make sounds
in response.

We perceive
another image
which we will later call
a breast.
As it appears to get larger
feel have other sensations
on our lips
in our mouth
our throats, our bellies.

The sense of hunger abates
and sleepiness arrives.

(Categories: )
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