Is your memory a circle,
or a trip straight out and back
A beginning and an ending,
or one continuous track
Do you see the same things going up,
that you pass when coming down
Is retention sealed and programmed,
by things going round and round
Is there a finish where you stop,
or perhaps just one last verse,
Or a rewind back to square one,
the past to again rehearse
This flux of motion holds you tight,
your perception never free,
Serving both to deceive and lie,
—in a false infinity
(Seattle Washington: March, 2017)
Only As Sacred
You want to define poetry,
behind the safety of your bars
Open the door to your cage,
a world awaits, where feathers tar
Dusty journals and ‘how-to’ books,
no longer serve you here
One price of admittance,
the acknowledgement of fear
With words only as strong
as the impression they leave,
And feelings only as sacred,
—as memory retrieves
(Seattle Washington: March, 2017)
Trophies On The Road
Champion of life,
trophies on the road
Accolades for someone else,
—one more thing to know
(Seattle Washington: March, 2017)
Something For Jimi
Tonight,
I had a date with the mountain
Tonight,
I made those promises impend
Tonight,
behind the shadow of my fear
Tonight,
—the devil smiled at me again
(Seattle Washington: ‘Something For Jimi’ March, 2017)