The Sunday Dispatch 9.25.22

[arrows and scars]

silver lines 
scrape the dusk

doors locked 
from inside

as the click 
and clatter of nothing 
goes on

we become easy prey 
for the torture of reward

if no passion 
has cursed our heart.
*
[am i not]

too many playground tumbles
broken crown and all

bottles fought as winters burned

always the greener grass 
just around the bend
until everything was bent 
beyond recognition

a husk of fractured moments
rattling around the empty spaces 
that remained

still thousands of miles 
from the stranger in the mirror.   
*
[uncertainty and ceremony]

gazing down the canyon
in a never found july

life left for kindling
but led here by love

a beautiful beginning 
to such a sorrowful end

back when nothing mattered 
but more of the same

and our hearts 
had yet to find 
a better way home.   
*
[alchemy and transmutation]

midnights struck mad 
by the clockhammers of chaos

magic from the dust of marrow

the chains of change rust not 
upon lightspeed’s loom

as centuries 
of thunder roll 
backward

calling for decay

from the outer reaches 
of inner space.   
*
[rewired]

culled 
from clocks 
and calendars

numbered days no more

hours useless 
to the now of never

unbecoming reinforced 
on a moment by moment basis

slowly removed 
from the hushed grimness 
of existence

falling softly 
into surrender

and 
the comfortable silence
of this nowhere
called home.
***
“The world sighs toward me
in a long rhythm, and brings
me the peace and indifference
of immortal things.”
-	Albert Camus   

The Sunday Dispatch 9.18.22

[break it up]



the heart gazing upward

toward the sky down below



what seems 

is never all



shifting glass thru 

the panes of existence



when any which way 

seems the only



randomness reshuffles the routine



unbeknownst to anyone 

paying attention to nothing that matters.

*

[merge and refrain]



parting from missed marks

the sweetness of sorrow remains



anything about the way 

you wanted me to be

was too far removed 

from who i really was



but something tethered me to you

snagging my heart by the strings



until everything 

just fell out 

of tune

*

[bottom dollar]



since when and always

broken down to dust



at ease with nothing



pulling down the clouds 

for a pleasant distraction from 

the barrage of penniless thoughts



pushing thru 

to other sides 

of nowhere



beneath the radar 

of fortune and recognition



52 years deep

and still figuring 

most things out



but soulwise

the poverty of poetry 

seems to suit me just fine



i get by with 

what gets me by



and from what i can gather

i seem to be well on my way

to a vast and unreachable elsewhere.

*

[simple chaos]



look too deep

and it all fades away



problems 

develop 

complications



we skate upon 

the thinnest veneer 

of solidity



thinking hope will save us



when the only way 

to ensure any semblance of victory

is a continual and unwavering

surrender. 

*

[slaked]



petrichor 

permeates 

the night



the pavement steams 

from too many years, too 

many summers, too many 

burning hours of no escape



deaf 

to complaint 

and trivialities



cracks consume 

their sustenance



ever opened 

to the light.

***

“Civilization is like a thin layer

of ice upon an ocean of chaos

and darkness.”

-	Werner Herzog 

The Sunday Dispatch 9.11.22

[dreams and allies]

beneath the wake of the day

rumbling thru 
the guts of the city

may 
the darkest shadows 
of loneliness

be ever 
on your 
side.
*


blood deep
this clutch for instance 
and comfort

this soft security 
of temporary contentment

gnawing at what’s left 
of this broken will

until the crows 
call for my bones.
*
[naked and profane]

the night holds 
all the cards behind 
the dark curtain of stealth

the light of stars 
as far away as our hearts 
from our heads

as we cast 
our favorite stones

and curse 
the vacant savior 
of youth.
*
[bonfire of sanity]

the years decay
far beyond the realm 
of our repair

as we dance beneath 
the deadly hands of time

blaming 
our brokenness 
on each other

and 
our loneliness 
on ourselves.
*
[size matters]

off track
in the dirt 
of the mind

we build 
and burn 
the ego

scaffolds and fumes
love and destruction

the tug of war
balance verse bravado

neither so easily brought down
and even when, hardly ever for good

vigilance is needed 
to maintain the smallest imprint 
on the sands of our time

while cultivating
the greatest impact 
on the hearts of others.
*
[otherwise]

of all the ways of knowing

maybe mine 
wasn’t the best route

nor the quickest 
or easiest

but after careful consideration
i’ve come to believe
 
it did and still does 
have everything to do
 
with why 
i’m still here.
***
“What exists, exists so it
can be lost and become precious.”
-	Lisel Mueller

The Sunday Dispatch 9.4.22

[approaching capacity]

longer roads remain
as both time and light fade

there is only 
so many hills 
you can die on

so many things 
to fight for

before 
the final battle
chooses you.
*
[strung between stars]

the nights hang 
by a thread

a glorious abandon 
on the brink of broke

stealing words 
from thin air

endlessly teetering

between total collapse 
and unmitigated triumph

as it should be. 
*
[upwardly mobile]

a placeholder
in lieu of ache 
and emptiness

something deep 
that never leaves

an anchor 
beneath the glory

a phantom behind 
any fortune

kissing the dust 
of dark memory

bringing death 
to life

in all 
our finest 
hours.
*
[wall and shadow]

markets of trade
within the caged confines 
of bone

bartered stations 
of solace given 

for a chance encounter 
with a like-minded heart

hardly ever worth 
the soul-time wasted

but hope is a 
worthy adversary

against the urge 
to remain alone. 
*
[amethyst heart]

long since gone

ever here now
for the most part

in between the struggle
during the downtimes

honing defense
in the wide open 
space within

to better comprehend 
the nothingness

that saves me 
from everything
else.   
***
“Going nowhere isn’t about turning
your back on the world; it’s about
stepping away now and then so that
you can see the world more clearly
and love it more deeply.”
-	Pico Iyer