Enter, Exit
I stand unmoving at the doors
that bar the way until choice is made.
Enter, Exit
But which is it? Do I enter the world beyond?
Or exit this one? Does soon to be take
Precedence over the now? The handles
hang still, cold, indifferent.
Enter, Exit
You can find me there, camped out
with lean-to shelter, undecided.
I do not reach the conclusion others have
made, so unthinking quickly.
Enter, Exit
I could break the rules, push through
uncaring, pick blindly, tempting
the stoic doors
into action that would end
poorly
for me.
Enter, Exit
The choice lingers;
as do I.
Open
Scene: Five people in a living room. Three share a couch, two women and one man. A fourth sits on a recliner. The fifth sits on a desk chair. They are in their mid-twenties, and dressed as if it is warm in the room. A low-table is in front of the couch which carries a number of glasses and one wine bottle. The fourth and fifth, both male, each hold a glass.
Five: No no, see, now you've got me drunk.
Two (Female): Yes, and so far its disappointing. You're supposed to be entertaining.
One (Female): You could dance!
Three (Male): Its good booze even.
Five: (M
What is love?
One can love a sister,
a brother,
a mother,
a father,
grand's of the two latters,
uncles and aunts, cousins and friends, strangers, pets,
the sunlight on a warm evening reflecting through a prism held by fishing line which is itself stuck to a little suction cup against a dusty window.
One can love food from cake to broccoli to fried fish to those tiny individual candy bars that are never enough but give just a taste of chocolate before "pop" in goes the second one. One is able to love the feeling of carpet between toes or the tension in a hammock's string when lying in that 'u' position swinging delightfully with e
branches doubly thick
in white tops
and dark bark
Here one ends, no here begins
the frozen bits of the
winter dressing gown.
Why does the tree always
hide its size, in all weather
but sun-baked winter?
What conspiracy hides
the words written
in a language spoken
in month long moments;
hides the skeleton
in mist, spring growth, summer foliage
autumn's fall, wind's dance and
winter's covering?
Why have we words to describe
the workings of inner bits
of atoms not one in a
million will ever see?
Yet to describe the age long
webwork of branches,
budded, added, reaching?
reaching for what goal but
life, we say, for the sun
--Booooing--
Because too much
of this difficult thing
--Splat--
called life,
can sour the perception
--gazebo?--
of what we're looking at.
--Grog--
It's the unexpected moment of grace within the boundaries of constant,
continuous,
contrived
--gloopy--
and consuming existance,
that can salvage our motivation,
our goodwill
and our hearts.
--Spa-tang--
I've chosen ridiculous words
because I cannot write down
the way a cello played
sweetly within an orchestra
moves me to compassion.
Life is the difficult, the malicious, the overpowering
thing we see it as.
But it is also the moment
of a fading leaf in warm sunshine,
Enter, Exit
I stand unmoving at the doors
that bar the way until choice is made.
Enter, Exit
But which is it? Do I enter the world beyond?
Or exit this one? Does soon to be take
Precedence over the now? The handles
hang still, cold, indifferent.
Enter, Exit
You can find me there, camped out
with lean-to shelter, undecided.
I do not reach the conclusion others have
made, so unthinking quickly.
Enter, Exit
I could break the rules, push through
uncaring, pick blindly, tempting
the stoic doors
into action that would end
poorly
for me.
Enter, Exit
The choice lingers;
as do I.
Open
Scene: Five people in a living room. Three share a couch, two women and one man. A fourth sits on a recliner. The fifth sits on a desk chair. They are in their mid-twenties, and dressed as if it is warm in the room. A low-table is in front of the couch which carries a number of glasses and one wine bottle. The fourth and fifth, both male, each hold a glass.
Five: No no, see, now you've got me drunk.
Two (Female): Yes, and so far its disappointing. You're supposed to be entertaining.
One (Female): You could dance!
Three (Male): Its good booze even.
Five: (M
To those who have, and those that do, to those who've bled and those who've shed,
I thank you,
you who stand upon the borders of understanding, who stand upon the borders and who plunge into the other side, you who wear your heart upon your sleeve, and proudly show that it is not just red, but also white and blue.