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@knighterrantbard
What comes of watering your garden
the grass is supposed to grow where you water it but...
perhaps the water wasn't enough
something stirs inside
waiting for something right
I make the best of what the garden affords
weed out the passing thoughts
tend to the buds that try to form
looking for the sun
Does it come full circle?
if you enjoy spirals
an endless mobius existence
going on but never returning
where ever you go
there you are
this heavy-handed grief
hits like a hammer
I don't have to cry help
to know I'm alive
tough to know
that touch will go
where it goes
I keep hearing the old sweet refrain
a little too hard rock
for these soft jazz days
m83
I have 30% Off in my Commissions
Alfonso Simonetti, Italian (1840 - 1892)
"E ancor non torna (And She Never Returned)", Oil on canvas, 187.3 x 115 cm
Joy
There is a flatness to my inner landscape
You might say there doesn't seem to be any happiness within
but you would be wrong
There are hills where Everests used to be
there are puddles where oceans used to be
perhaps it is time to climb the hills
and swim in puddles
and imagine I climb Everest
or that I swim in the Gulf
the wind has simply died down
no more hurricane gusts
just gentle, soft breezes
and fond recollections
Grief
Are you finding your way?
Did you celebrate life
and found a happiness there
and maybe a guilty relief?
I found more questions than answers,
such as how such love could be wedded to such ... evil?
maybe that's too extreme of a word, but something more than
meaness
I found more apathy than assertion.
I found that we are as good as the hand we hold
the action we take
the tears that fall
the grief and tears flow where we show up
Forever wave © Peter Solarz
I like my water warm
because I do not seek the death of my neighbor
I lift them up
instead of stepping on their necks
I offer my coat instead of kicking them to the curb
If they are hungry
I'll give them a place to eat
and time to ponder
they can hide in my attic
if they must regale their days of loss
let it be after we have turned away
from this dark and unholy place
this refraction of our darkest and most evil of desires
I will never lower the temperature
for to do that will give it succor
and I'll be damned if i do that
Slime wave © Peter Solarz