the world seen as ridged
thunderous frame of reality
life earns its explanation

insert the cracks
somewhere a man cries
and a woman stands with firm
and twisted face

she has her list
all part of parts

what is belief?
we’re taught to be proud
but new thought should never follow the old

future is not ahead
it’s outward
whether you move or not
the next sword of light
swings its arc

she was just a girl
who wanted to not see or know
before it happens

all a dance and sway

she was rarely unhappy
would see guts left for the birds
smell the old wood,the tar
lift her eyes
and smile at the ocean

future is outward
not forward
past is under your feet
somewhere between earth
and tuned redemption

she was not a pretty girl
but knew how to hold your eyes
and you buried every ounce of disdain
waiting for the next

oh yes
no path is sure
right and good are chosen fulcrums
i only see the whole
common beginnings

it was part of how i don’t cry
taking longer steps
the world betrayed me only once

she didn’t like getting sand in the suit
how the wind made sure no towel was flat
grit and salty air

that’s the smell of the world dying
she had children anyway
two beautiful children

force and vast
almost never unhappy

tomorrow is outward
not forward
taste of the past somewhere in the small swallow
that escaped everyone’s notice as she held the tears back

as i prayed one last time
and then another:

there is no structure
bound by law of man
no rule that makes the sun rise
and draw purpose to light

she stares even though it’s rude
you forgot to understand
there is no determination



One Reply to “highlight”

Feedback always welcome

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s