Wednesday, July 8, 2015

7/7/15

He inhales deeply, as if taking his oxygen
from the burning cigarette.
Never forget.
How could you forget?
Nerves need their anodyne.
No matter what you say about
mindful mentation.
The Hope of Our Nation
is mass medication.
Let them smoke weed.
Let them shoot smack.
Let them eat pills in handfuls
like snacks.
Let them assume such consumption
is natural,
like a terrorist attack.
Not to detract from dramatic renditions
of sober reflection – every exception
still begs the question we lack language
to ask.
We digress from distressful suggestibility
onto easier path.  Does it matter?
To whom?
 
 
Accept (I am as I am)
and flow
silvery sediment
Grand glowing Sun
eclipse on the river.
Caressed by satin water
hot and cold
element controlled, ever free.
River journeys
more sensual than air
more loquacious that Earth
more secure than fire
We can discover,
transmute along the river
never noticing how everything
has changed.
River run true rumination
murky, long flirtation with mysteries
we are born to yearn for.
Consummation may be our last reward.
When none (not even I) observe --
that’s always when it happens.
Feel safe, alone or in good
company.  The river loves
in her own fashion.
 
 

7/7/15

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