Horizon of Life

beyond the horizon lies the end

the end represents the beginning
of what's living on the other side,
adjustments needed to be made,
sad but always true when seen,
aliens hide behind the uncertainty
of the moment and the horizon
that constantly moves outward,
beyond the moment, time binds 
past and present into a cruel
singularity that fuels holes both
black and white, distinguishing
one from the other through its
age of expansion and elements
created by the small particles.
beyond this horizon time lingers
as it travels back and forth
up and down in ways that will
boggle the mind when heard or
seen as it loses sight of what
it is supposed to protect and
maintain...  we delve into our
obsession with the unknown,
clarifying what it is there once
reaching the horizon of life.

September 16, 2025

Day's End

in the west it sets at 
the end of each day,
morning began long ago
before the sun could shine,
waves of the night
bring darkness forward, l
shadows hide in the
corners of our minds
we vouch for ourselves
without denying...
darkness below
light above, the sun
has left the scene,
we regret our natures
save the moments
we understand that
truth is illusive...
moments crow in our
ears like coaches barking
out orders to players,
night falls to the ground
a curtain closing and
we wonder if the day
will ever return again.

September 15, 2025

Death Becomes Us All

born we are without consent
living lives of turmoil and dissent
freedom dwells in all of us
whether we respect it or not...
hallucinogenic minds warp
the years we have been given
putting nothing into perspective,
not wars in foreign lands nor
disturbances here at home...
day to day we live
no future planning required
someone will take care of us
it is just a matter of time...
wealth stokes the furnace of
growth in all directions,
marginal people pay the bills
the poor do absolutely nothing,
cats and dogs run freely around
the town squares of the south,
while militaries guard the violence
making sure it stays in one hand,
street people die of hunger
obesity about to explode,
rumors of rumors of rumors
rampant on the wires
across the globe and beyond,
terror begets terrorism and we
hide behind our beliefs, all of us
knowing that one day
death will become us all.

September 11, 2025

Morning Observations

Kaaa...  Kaaa...  Kaaa...
Areca...  Aureeca...  Areca...
sounds or phrases?
one knows not - just listen
to the morning, light through
the trees shine - cats prowl,
again, the sounds
warnings of flight fancies
Kaaa...  Areca...  Kaaa...
extended branches hanging over
weight of the leaves or what?
Areca...  Areca...  Kaaa...
forbideen interludes resound
in the backyard around the
wall of trees and bushes
with rotten, decaying trunks
amid a barbed wire fence 
on which rodents sit patiently
waiting for their turn to play.
off to another distant tree
a few birds migrate
minimizing their annoyances,
blinding reflections, adjusting seats
the yard still home to all these
creatures - large and small,
accents on the sounds differ
before and after heard with
unsubstantiated clarity, I speak
while in the distance remain
focused on my observations.

September 10, 2025

Birth Cycle Creation

holes of a dark nature juxtaposed

with those referred to as white,

sucking in or thrashing out,

bending and reshaping its fabric

not really expanding its time...

cruel thoughts cling to the notion

we are but simple objects in space

without destiny or purpose, just

hurled about with chaotic randomness,

presupposed to remain in place

until new places are determined,

bathed in cosmic space dust

giving us consciousness sentience

that wraps itself around knowledge

like the particles accepted or rejected

when dark holes pass to white ones 

new universes are created, not born.

September 9, 2025

Cosmic Sandbox

random thoughts like the randomness of spacetime
float through my mind as if it too were a void...
random thoughts that mix and stir...
combine and separate with the precision of a chef
as mental cuisines are prepared on which to feast,
entertaining what could or will be rather than
what is or is not currently going on...
mental tapestries of hope and despair
forged like power rings into dominant action
written down but no action taken...
journeys through underground tunnels
a metaphor for cosmic gravitational waves
permeating the continuum of our universe,
not a watchdog but as a participant whose
activities are contingent upon its warping,
subsequent re-alignment and singularities,
Previous millennia and eons have passed by
leaving us absorbed, wrapped in afterbirth, not
caring if our lives revolve inside a solar system
or a galaxy, or if we exist in this universe, or
another one that is not that different...
As perplexing as it seems, it is also irrelevant,
correlated with all that has come before, we are
destined to repeat history in such a way that
Our destiny is just a grain of life's sand
and the box in which we play with life daily.

September 9, 2025

Silver Strings

chills run down the sides of my body

currents of wind slash at my face,

fingers tips numb at the expression

that summer is over at last...

coffee blackened by the beans

slides down my throat surreptitiously

muscles tighten around the heat,

nature lives on the blind side of life

and the reason for so much strife,

silver threads float through the air

on their way to some mystic lands

beckon me to follow them when

breakfast dishes are put away...

a solo pilot navigates his ship past

all the surface garbage of life only

to find his air space crowded and

clouded by these silver strings

guiding him off into the horizon.

September 8, 2025

Madness Trapper

a gentle madness wash over me
defecating birds in gardens flee
a triumphant blow to the ego felt
when insanity does become me,
ancient mariners brought me here
to this land of the unencumbered
where south side moss only grows
and wild eggs fried on flat rocks,
swamps slither around like snakes,
in the muck, mire, and mildew...
behind the eyes live the crimes of
one thousand souls or more,
each one mourning the death of
the others as if no recourse exists,
save the one I alone offer them,
when given to me the sins of
their forefathers and families.
not a saint or the devil am I but
rest assured no friend of yours,
my delusions are my own and
the fit very well on me...  I am
the one who steals from you so
you can live a life of blessedness.

September 6, 2025

Broken Rings

cat tree in the corner lives permanently
two rockers on one side
a couch on the other - made of wicker
but not for the wicker man...
this time eleven windows form walls
along with two doors for security
we strive to be safe these days...
shades block out light unwanted
fans distribute the heat and cold.
a cave in which we live is not a home,
shelter needed when shelter can,
volumes of hope lay in trashcans
along with the daily news,
swords of imagination clash against
the seldom offered truth, struggling
to break free from its masters...
terror is as it does - does what it wants
domestic is only a euphemism
planted like hearing aids to circumvent
the approaches the surround us like
like the keeps of the broken rings.

September 6, 2025 

Hunting the Hunters

praise goes to the ones who survived

soldiers returning home from battle

divorces who decide to remarry

cancer patients living beyond goals

children born in the heart of Africa

the wealthy who look down their noses

politicians who lie like defecations

birds who fall out of the nests

hunters not having time to reload

crabs not put into the boiling pots

clergy who has lost their beliefs

mothers who give up their children

addicts who kick instead of die

all the bombs never exploded

criminals never brought to justice

proponents of trickle-down economics

feet painters without the use of arms

blind singers who love inspirationals

Deaf artists who never walk alone

trees never cut down for houses

parks never turned into condos

we the people that never were we

and those who are always forgotten.

September 4, 2025