excitement builds like the dropping of the ball on new year’s eve except the ball is much brighter and times square stretches across the continent – gentlemen in power ties break from their power offices to don cheap sunglasses and stare at the heavens “It’s only a small break” they say – then the rock begins to pass in front of the star and night comes in daytime with cheering and car horns and fireworks as adults return to their childhood and…
sizzling yellow summer sky beach balls on blistering sand worries like butterflies floating on the breeze heaven in a season shattered by clenched fists beating down the glass wall that separates rage from logic law and reason *** This is the eighteenth poem of my personal 30-day poetry challenge to break away from the machine to think about things that don’t matter. I have no idea what I’m doing. – Jim
The roaring river slows to a trickle amid long days when rage rises up flooding your soul drowning everything else out. – And yet, they wait just out of reach— the promise of a sunrise. This is the seventeenth poem of my personal 30-day poetry challenge to break away from the machine to think about things that don’t matter. I have no idea what I’m doing. – Jim
The confidence of a teenage girl hangs from a long strand of silk that makes its way through bustling high school hallways all the way home where it is cut loose so she can be herself in a place she trusts. The confidence of a teenage girl is challenged every day in front of a mirror where she spends too much time wondering whether she’s pretty enough and smart enough and good enough for the world outside. – The…
Sometimes I stop and look around and wonder why we do it For the 80 years we’re blessed with walking the earth why do we care so passionately about things – Our lives are but a speck on the timeline of the world No one will remember us a hundred years after we’re gone Hell, only a few will remember us after just a few months – So why do we try so hard to do certain things Write symphonies…
At the grocery store with all its plastic food and marketing light pushing a cart following my wife keeping the oblivious zombies stocking up for the week at arm’s distance thinking how hard it is sometimes just to get through a goddamn day. At least there’s her. *** Jim
