evanescent

i sat,

stunned, silent, and staring,

worlds around me dissolved in a mist,

atoms forming what I knew so well

now left me confused and unknowing.

carefully I ventured through the fog,

what shapes are in the distance?

distorted and unclear

my mind composes an unlikely truth

to keep me pressing on;

did your eyes catch my mist?

hopeless optimism

white knuckles,
the only hint
of a lesson learned.

all is delicate,
fleeting,
free.

never seize (keating lied).

on the reigns of the wind
all erodes,
time strips all
until you stand bare
in a barren land.

have you learned of the beauty in decay?

wallow

it's been so long since

hitting the streets with poets

my tongue is dry

stumbling on hollered words

looking for answers in tea leaves

at the bottoms of many a drained cup

i never learned this art

but then have i learned any?

i look to the troubadours and find

paths wiped clean by age and dust

(daring us to forge our own

or warning of futility?)

thoughts flit through the wind as ever

don't let me fall too behind

freedom

it's all in your head

he said

beauty and worries and even

the view outside your window

nobody can tell you what is

he said

because what is

is only what you see and feel

cover your eyes

(he did)

see how

it doesn't disappear?

it's all in your head

he said

and if you want to forget

let's lose our minds

projections

silent films

play in our mind

not black and white

but vivid in color

daring us to scream

the visions as loud

as the reel

in our mind

creating in -

silent rooms

silent mouths

silent stares

- stories form

fact or fiction

never knowing

clues in a sudden touch

in unshielded eyes

only glimmers show

so we play the parts

that break our hearts

calendars and countdowns

there are too many nots nots knots crying out but i am deaf in anticipation so i wait wait wait - but time is a weight hanging over me and screaming at me the walls carved with lines steady and consistent as the passing of days, reliableness at its most superficial - but i am blind so come winter spring summer and fall with scraped knees and ambitions right back to the beginning.

when did i let my senses go?

are you the teacher of my heart?

hands so soft

write piercing into eternity

truths that can only be hinted at

how can beauty like yours flourish

amongst decay and debauchery

gardens in a sea of machinery?

yours is a canvas

delicately etched by life

i trace its trajectories to find

wisdom twinkling behind eyes

secrets behind a smile

through stone paved pathways

in midnight's crib

i await your familiar light

speak to me in your sea of eloquence!

speak to me in tongues!

or don't speak to me

and let me learn