I would like to be a writer. I began this site with amorous intentions, and over the course of time, I hope to have evolved as a male in an ever changing society that is today, recognizing the true beauty and elegance of woman. My words and notions will I hope respond in poetic verse of many genre and style. Come along and please share your ideas and insights. Thank you for your visit.

Posts tagged “society

Hiding In Public


In the quiet of my own authenticity,

I stand in notice,

though in only my physicality,

you can’t ever know me,

without speaking in my direction,

in hope of some response,

until then,

nothing matters,

beyond perception,

often totally wrong,

yet existent enough to create

some barrier

some reason

to call me wrong.


Living Inside The Movie ‘Crash’


I would live there,

that corner,

near all the action,

where a million different lives,

were modeled around

each other,

to be no different,

to cry, to laugh, to know hatred and confusion.

I would live on that block,

I could fall in love with the feeling,

of finally understanding,

we might just as well,

be the same as the other,

rather than continue the battle.

I would live there

if I could have you …

live the world in happy,

to fashion each other’s eyes.


Standing Inside A Scream


It’s when the world collapses around

the neighborhood,

no longer are the faces friendly,

almost dumb stares,

icy wares,

they seem frozen within the construct of time.

 

I stood in line awhile,

almost enough time to forgive myself,

they laughed at first,

a comical reunion of sorts,

recalling happier times, childlike times,

until there was the finality of our reality.

 

The body wants to react,

yet is told not to,

someone might see,

some person along the avenue

might feel differently about you today,

then yesterday when smiles gave you away.

 

I wondered if I might ever find resolve,

this burden of truth, a lifestyle

when all else seemed to fail,

except an element of shame,

that explanation,

‘a tolerant world no longer cares.’

 

Fight the battle,

suggests emotion, a layered

response to years of oppression,

suddenly surfacing in town halls,

museums, corporate offices,

and the home of best friends.

 

The shelter piece,

that’s what is …

missing.


When In Just a Word She Tells Me


There can be this vacant silence,

I have felt it

so often, struggled to accept, to understand,

to anticipate,

and yet every moment it envelops my world,

becomes a torment,

the wheels of my mind roll on,

she continues her mystique, and yet, I am here alone,

wanting to blame someone else besides myself,

so I withdraw, become quiet, probably obstinate,

as the sadness rolls in to my being,

and the skies are blue, and the sunlight easily lost in shade,

while my eyes do continue the search.

 

A word,

is all I receive in kind,

suddenly my purpose does change,

to such a marvelous degree,

that when it appears my desire to be,

begins its own personal travel,

the fire lit,

the vacancy gone,

surely filled with the grace of her goodness.

 

She wants to call it intrigue,

and I want to label it elegance,

society would suggest refined wonder,

and I would call it beauty,

her world would suggest status quo,

and I would argue beyond wonder,

so delightful, simply sensual,

an essence of certain sweet embodiment,

that in a word,

sends me to that settling place,

where nothing can ever possibly matter,

beyond her word,

again.


Oh to Prescribe Time


Dali - The Persistence of Memory

Oh to know this is the right,

time,

this moment,

it is in this amount of gathered energy,

to forecast the right morning,

the perfect afternoon,

a blissful evening,

 

and then to add … more time

 

When we plan our lives around

a certain favor, a pleasing introduction,

a realized shared opportunity to

love

when we might understand,

this was meant to happen just this way,

no one might answer any of the reasoning why,

we just did,

we could,

we knew without wondering we would.

 

and then to add … more time

 

Now chapters along in the journey,

we might begin to recognize stirrings,

perhaps our lives are in different,

parallels, or regions we sometimes cannot predict,

yet in our mind,

we visualize time,

we know we are always there,

always here,

if we can only find the right

time,

the moment suggests,

we have designed our lives.

 

and then to add … more time

 

if we continue to try,

we might find we have lost

a thread,

only that quiet unravel,

takes such little time …

 

print – Salvador Dali – The Persistence of Memory


When Truth Forbids Chance


Oh I have tried,

I do love you with all my being,

and would sacrifice a world,

one filled with reputation and avarice,

for the soul that might challenge

a societal norm.

 

How often would I tell her

she completes the essence of my reason

to examine any notion in my mind.

 

How easily could I look in her eyes

and tell exactly what it was that mattered

to me in the moment.

 

It is always you,

all ways lead to your heart,

and it is me that breaks the path,

by locking onto selfish needs,

rather than the appreciation of just how

magical my life has become with you by my side.

 

Oh to vent a passion like ours,

would write volumes of beauty and grace,

carve into tree trunks, the solid hearts

that symbolize summers and hot spring days,

and impulsive scenarios where two people,

just allowed life to take them in its arms,

and kneel before the starlit sky,

a kiss, a smile, a gasp,

and it was then,

I knew I could know no other love.


When Driven By Words


Have we been replaced?

the crumpled being in the corner mumbled,

to a jury of peers

who in quiet realize,

believe they will never allow themselves …

 

Yet his clothes are shabby,

the same pinstripe with a Jerry Garcia tie

pink button down oxford, and well-shined shoes,

he possessed years earlier,

during that last summit,

the day he resigned from today’s society.

 

Still, no one wonders where he is,

why he became,

how a life can turn beyond,

the normalcy of the human condition.

The new normal some might argue,

he might argue,

she might not care anymore,

given all the energy she spent defending

a frame of mind,

he no longer understood, or chose to wonder …

 

The idealism in surprise,

the beauty of spontaneity,

the sacrifice of one’s own belief system,

in order to complement

The Man.

We are all too easily duped

by pretty sights,

and warm surroundings,

to such a degree of departure,

we sometimes do forget …

 

the crumpled man in soft murmurs.