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.).

Months of Counting

Paragraphs on topic,
friends and family present,
a feeling of life on the edge of something newer
Cards and feelings on the table
freshly polished and bombarded with notions
verging on hypotheses not far from illusions

Sentence structure will remain
long after flowers fade and shades are drawn
But would it just wait a while longer?
Dew has not yet settled
and the ink barely begun to flow
There is no knowledge yet but with warnings cautiously heeded
there is promise and hope

What shall emerge from this thick-skinned cocoon?
Or will anything at all?
A new plan could enable us to breathe once more
Or it may again fall short of expectations
and dependence on cure upon cure will resist the pressure
of the deepening crease on my brow
and the tweeting of the sparrows,
the beckoning call of nature

 

Copyright L.M. 2005.