Passed Presence

yesterday I did a lot that will be forgotten
during the day
and upon arrival of the night I sat
within sight of stars and a friend
unable to contain my joy
I don’t care what it meant
it was part of my present

the little questions that crawl
slithering like wily wordsmiths
stab of criminality
inauthenticity
pressure
but I ignore them all
for whatever was meant
was all part of my present

I never ignore the truth
but sometimes it takes a while
and processing asks a fee
when something requires action
it finds a way of surfacing
and regardless of intent
it was all part of my present

if there is a problem with my words
perhaps it’s my turn for the blame?
well, that’s alright, I am strong
I know who I am
and I know what I need
I ask no one’s consent
to take part in my present

moderation is essential
and those who judge harshly
will lead a boring existence
for rules and standards and doctrines
bastardize life
where any threat of deviance
begins the cycle of torments
I live by me and my present

I should not be misunderstood
we all need a conscience
but show me a tribunal
for all our small misdeeds
and I will show you a hymnal
that touts many creeds
so you will see, and thus lament
your state of being, your sole attempt
and every hour you might repent
but I shall bask in my present

why care you of their dissent
life itself bids you relent
she mourns so many lives unspent
tomes filled with these nonevents

the only one you represent
is you, so follow your intent
it is your world to reinvent
and do what makes you most content

now should I like to end my words
with you
right here
my dear
I shall

Copyright L.M. 2007. (originally posted here at 2:15 a.m. tonight.).

MakeShiftFrame

how must it be?
yielded to the raw
yielded to the deep
bowing slender in her frame
from misty claims of soulful keep
to fending fading lover’s leap

hassled adoration?
surely no one caves
surely no one dives
bending slender in my frame
not as so where she arrives
dares hopeful path she contrives

a time should be free?
it’s allowed to be raw
it’s allowed to be deep
blending slender in our frames
my misty hopes of soulful keep
tumble toward her horseshoed heap

     

      

Copyright L.M. 2007.

October

the legs are dying
wailing protests to no one and everyone
they know, too
but doesn’t sorrow have its place?
defending pieces of its grace?
it separates
and heeds the barrels’ breaks

touch of gold leaf
borrows a creed for old times’ sake
it falls, too
so when upon our presences falls
the living breathing free-for-all?
the flying, dipping leather ball
it balances
and awaits the final call

      

       

Copyright L.M. 2007.