Thoughtful is as a thought is.
If it’s thoughtless then who’d miss this?
Is this thoughtful then, and honest,
or more thoughtlessness in solace?

The thought being given makes it
by definition thoughtful.
Or then at least thought-partial,
partially thought not unsubstantial.

Deeper in thought still wander,
and think of thoughts to ponder,
which make long pauses longer,
for thoughts longing along.

And so thinkers and thoughters
sit thoughting on one another,
while this thought-un-ful other
Remains thoughtless all along.

Great White

Drawing           out           in           open           waters
the          drawn          out          empty          words.

No       amount       of       mind       or       muscle
could      save      you      from      the      thirst.

Only     listen     in     those     great     places
as        the        open        circles        close.

And when  you see  form in  the spaces
hit it square on the nose.


How canst be that which doesn’t end
But roughs it out with reverend
And breaks you down where you can’t mend
But remains always bruised and blackened

How came that horror here abound
That silent sight and sickened sound
With rough touch shoves a shudder round
And tears you from end to end

Out Loud

Being drawn out
Of myself at such length
In being called out
I’m drawing in the strength

To bring it about
And fill in the blanks
Is to quiet doubt
And instead give thanks

It true takes such clout
To fight for the feel
And see through the drought
A flood will reveal

So with this throughout
A journey I may fear
I’ll find voice to shout
Out loud that I’m here

What Matters

Perhaps it takes the darkness,
the cold and bitter mess,
to teach you all that matters is
what moves you to progress.
And if there should be one in view
that doesn’t light you through,
you should know that such a one
is far too small for you.

Will To Keep Going

The world as I knew it
is now no more
the banner will ever not wave.
As long down this long
and lonesome road I go
by and by, day by day.
A siege of the seas
parts to reveal the sun
blazing its way to the dawn.
Give no pause to wretched
or wicked give rest
as no more can I do but trudge on.


What is the reason for distress?

The lesson I guess

is not very much less

than when my thoughts digress

into a mess.

So focus I must

for focus is just

a means of suppressing

the urge to discuss.

Well I should have guessed

such an arduous test

would make every expression

feel restlessly repressed.

So though I respect

that such method is best

I feel only further lost

as I fail to progress.

Moving On

The harsh hardens quickly
The weakness turns sickly
Pale poured on thickly
to disgust and disguise.
The pressure increases
As passion decreases
A clenched fist releases
with reluctant goodbyes.
Now sailing on slowly
Lulls rocking the lonely
The wide open only
the haunt of Your eyes.