Spoken Poetry
Gratitude for the Unknown
There is beauty in the unknown,
unknown in the beauty
of the unknown
is the beauty
of the unknown,
which is beautiful
on an unknown sphere,
so dear,
here
in the unknown
beauty
of the unknown
is the beauty
that rests,
Great Pains
Love is not a place,
or strategy,
direction,
or inflection
of voice,
or choice,
thing,
way,
or dream,
even though
it may seem
like one
to me,
a man
lost in his own sea
Small Hands
The past
is both place and theory,
seems dreary, though,
to wallow in my history
and lose the mystery
if I hold on to my version of self
and not embrace
the softness
within my heart
and the feelings
that flow like a river
that connects
to earth and her heart
within mine.
I is Me
I have come to realize
old adages have truth,
theorize
old fears can die,
believe
that I
have no purpose on this earth
other than to disentangle the mystery of self
and how that includes losing
old ways of framing
and painting
scenes in my head
Melody of Self
I’m not sure
there is anything more beautiful
than feeling the feeling
of someone sharing their feelings
through a gentle touch,
a tear,
a glance,
a gesture,
a word,
a silence,
a smile,
a cry,
a laugh,
a hug.
Chronicle of Dreaming Man
Every morning,
he would row his boat
gently down the stream,
merrily,
thinking life is but a dream.
He was not concerned with how things worked,
but rather how they seem
inside his often broken heart,
In Plain Sight
As
I lay hiding,
confiding
to no one
and no thing,
the remnants of past selves
bring
me pain
inside the heart
I pretend is my brain
is a boy,
so scared
to share himself
with a world
Soft Feelings
Soft feelings are hard to let go,
especially when they bleed
into dreams
and streams
of consciousness
that meander and flow
into places I do not understand
or know.
Broken people made whole
inside the hole
within the sphere of the heart
of the soul
and liquid dreams,