Once Upon A Time

Why so so

So many changes

Why so so, so much forgiveness

Whatever

Can be the circumstances

For life to gift this richness

Why wouldn’t I write

Of love which is like

The sunlight on the floor

Why would I not focus

On the lover’s dust

Which lies just behind the door

Losing It

I am going

I am leaving

I can’t stand the thought

Of self-deceiving

How would I reach myself

With a voice on my shoulder

How should I find new wealth

As I grow older, and older

Where is the reason

Of the seasons left behind

Tell me of the treasons

For the likes of my kind

I am going

I am leaving

I go without hope

In deep, deep grieving

How would I preach to myself

With a show on my shoulder

How could I regain my health

As you grow colder, and colder

Where is the crimson

Which the kings left me to find

Pray tell me of the gym run

With the slopes which may be less inclined

Instant Tone

All the while then

That we are dreaming

Making reams of paper

From the breathing

In the sunlight

Shadows are of stillness

Dreams or thoughts

There for willingness

All the while then

Tightness is reaching

Schools of easy living

Hopes there for redeeming

On the island

On the mainland

Reaching for distance

I am the same man

All the while then

Flights are freeing

Preach for past times

Freedom from the fleeing

In this real world

Of Monday morning

Each is of the other

Taking care of the shoring

Preparation

I walk into the garden

Sit at the table

With my lemonade

Not a cloud in the sky

Blue, as far

As blue can ever be seen

Light is as light

As light ever can be

The notebook

Is not ideal

What with lines

Straight and horizontal

And so the verse

Takes on a dictatorial feel

Nietzsche himself

Could have taken over

Except that the sunlight

Would have been

Too much for him

In his condition

I myself though

Am in way better shape

Even finding a balance

In the geometric

Dexterous

When I am cycling

I know that I am cycling

When I am writing

I know that I am writing

When I cycle

I can think about writing

When I write

I can think about cycling

Two things, together

Simultaneously, by me

Simultaneously, for you

Two things, together

When I cycle I could

Think about writing, about

You taking off, or putting on

Your silk underwear

Of course

I may lose my balance

Which would draw this note

To an untidy end

Better then, when cycling

To know that I am cycling

Also to know, with some certainty

That when I am writing, actually I am writing