Poems: 070521 - May 7th, 2021

[Robert Morpheal]

040521A

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The gathering 

of what was gone 

before it ever began

continues deep

out into the night. 

Ghost lit ships

that never sailed 

bound distant places

never known

past grim tidings.  

Darkness is best 

as to the time of day 

covering over 

the day's impediment 

proved too much. 

What has broken 

can never mend 

among the torn away

from holding on 

turned precious. 

We do not know 

what it really means 

past the sounds

and odd feelings

not being right. 

They did not let be

and they did not let go

beyond emptying 

anything found 

still lost inside. 

We scraped by 

going around the rims 

threatened with destiny 

downed by descent

damned forbidden depths.

We fall into it

as to the endings

that others want

for others

but not for themselves. 

A cruel fate 

at the best of it

fighting for something

we won't get to taste

before an end of it. 

We are going around 

but we have been here

many  a time 

until too worn  

for what we came for. 

Shut the door 

close the window 

tug at curtains 

hide that face 

in damp pillows. 

Doesn't really matter

how we agree 

or disagree 

it will be the same

come tomorrow. 

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050521A

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Didn't know much

about the old way

and don't know

the new way at all. 

The new stuff 

is all the same

and the old stuff 

saying goodbye. 

There is Solitude

as the most jealous 

of lovers 

letting no one in. 

I don't know 

how we got here 

and I don't know 

a way out. 

Nothing is new

and everything else

is already done

as news at eleven. 

There used to be 

something of a hang out

but now 

there is none. 

Things change

exactly that way 

and no one is there

knocking at the door

Middle of the day

midnight is a state 

in the country of mind

with borders closed. 

They are watching 

along that road 

for anyone 

you wanted to know. 

They have plans 

but they won't say 

what those plans are

until we are gone. 

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050521B

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Take a spin 

lashed to the wheel 

of a bum steer gone

to always headed out. 

Where we are going 

is to somewhere  

past land's end 

and not on any charts. 

A quick cutter 

slides choppy 

across the body 

gone electric. 

Down streamed

from any generation

that might have been 

the generation of love. 

It is not that way

in any place now 

where everyone sells 

their bits of broken time. 

The flower girls all say

it is a bleeding shame 

that you try to buy a rose

and have to pay for thorns.

The cat ran away 

with a leftover tongue

leaving nothing to say

and nothing is free. 

We always want 

for something 

that will never be 

the consolation prize. 

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050521C

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Make me up 

into someone different

than I was before

I don't want to be 

whatever I once was 

Something lives

and something dies 

turned around and over

the far out side 

of what goes to not. 

That part of us 

that never really exists

anywhere anyway 

but watches from afar 

what was done and what did. 

Prompters know words

that we refuse to say 

where they only confuse 

the edges of our lips 

to being pursed up tight. 

I cannot tell you 

and you never would 

really ever understand 

why things change 

as much as they do. 

Nothing ever comes 

the same way it came

ever and again

but something inside us

always waits too long. 

All the ways to lose

where no one is winning 

and something to fix 

with no way of fixing it 

time after timed out. 

Downed for the count

on a stray punch 

that you never threw 

sprinkled with the glitter

of cruel stars. 

Climbing ladders 

to touch the sky  

just so you can fall  

back into the midst 

of nothing special. 

You would feel horrible

if you knew 

but it will be worse

making up explanations 

in a run away mind. 

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050521D

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If you ever did anything 

you won't be coming 

in that deranged state 

of being out of mind.

You cannot be trusted 

with any of the people

who did nothing at all 

and are well known for it. 

You cannot be whatever

they happen to tell you 

and you cannot be 

whatever they don't. 

Try to make yourself 

into something comfortable

to be worn as loose 

as an old sweater. 

The invites are cancelled

and your name is stricken 

from all of those lists

but you get cashiers' smiles. 

You cannot be bought

but that is your problem 

so keep it to yourself 

as no one wants to share. 

Short and long of it 

gets taken down 

to much the same thing 

as doing comes undone. 

The way it goes

for any stray monkey 

caught up the middle 

of someone else's business.

Shred the evidence 

and burn the documents 

the way they did 

for Richard M. Nixon. 

Nothing comes out clean

from it never happens

in any legitimate corner 

of any known department. 

You were never there 

and no one kept you 

anywhere in mind 

after you had left. 

----------------------  

050521E

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Bolt out of the blue 

is a riddle 

without any response

holding together 

the sky and earth 

where they are broken. 

Everything was coming

to flying apart 

as the clouds tore away 

flinging frustrated 

pieces of canopy 

into miscellaneous.

Shreds of gatherings 

mulled over 

in terms of relation 

done wind song 

far gable shudder 

headed out to rooftops. 

Another parade 

carrying ghost ships 

across glass lakes 

that cover the doing

and the being done. 

We have gone over

various details 

pertaining to isolating 

the pros and cons 

bolstering stray habits 

on both sides.

Tragic thin line 

dangling from heaven 

gets pulled 

during any emergency

causing a full stop 

chain reaction heap.  

We try to climb  

past the oversights 

fleeing the sharp pull

carried down under 

the getting over 

having been denied.

Only the lonely 

wet whistle  

cries its solitude 

into lost nights 

turned matchless 

long soliloquies. 

No one ever listens

that hard or long

to complications 

and all those failures

failing to simplify 

what was uncomplicated.

Tried to break in 

to whatever was left

on ingredient labels 

breaking down 

happiness into chemical 

percentages of others.  

Pencilled in 

on the wrong rosters 

and pushed to join 

crippled movements 

herded the other way 

by the ignorant. 

 

Never works that way

and we are had 

as what we cannot be 

and forced to assume 

various other shapes

in perpetual exchange. 

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070521A

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All victories are hollow

and there is always wishing 

one could find a new face

from among those in the gallery. 

Any face would do 

that might look like someone

who is always being seen 

somewhere in a favourable light. 

Something that promises

a story book life 

when it reflects 

into the cruelty of mirrors. 

One that everyone wants 

always being pictured 

as if they can own it 

as their own. 

Something one does not mind

being recognized in public 

rather than sliding through gaps

trying to avoid being a target. 

Something not appearing 

as though dragged in 

from unspeakable battles 

carting dead and wounded. 

A magazine face 

that says Hollywood glossy 

centre spread in the monthly 

everyone tends to read. 

The face that is the very same 

as the ones in the advertisements 

effectively made up to hide

commonly recognized flaws. 

All those little differences

that should have been avoided

in a life told in sketchy tales

struggling to fill in blanks. 

Fabricating an ordinary story 

that seems safe enough 

according to old recipes 

being tried and true. 

A face considered predictable

and to be trusted

to inspire absolute faith

delivering the latest pitch 

There is so little tolerance

for anything unusual

between grocery shopping

and what comes to table. 

Turn on the screen images

to discover what it is

that is currently popular 

and who is trying to be it. 

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