Wednesday - June 4, 2014

This is our last day here at Hobe Sound, Florida...

the sky does not hide
its pastel colors and hues,
pinks, blues, and yellows,
streaking across like ribbons,
frolicking in the breeze
and dark clouds dancing
as they gradually dissipate
into a Carolina blue with
a State red background;
too ominous for works
by the casual observer
like myself who is just visiting
his past for the last day.
4Jun14




are we seekers of truth
or mere reporters of what
we see or think we see?
are we so blinded by
the wizard's truth that
we cannot find our own?
what manner of devil
possesses this world that
all our truths are hidden?
and, what's the point of
seeking if that which we
discover is so misleading?
are we seekers of truth or
mere foolish reporters
thinking we need to know?
4June14




you...
this island...
has stolen my will
to leave;
and I wonder,
no speculate,
if it has something
to do
with the view...
or,
perhaps
the privacy...
or,
the peaceful,
inspirational trance
in which
you put me;
you,
the island,
and all your are,
should you be
amused at
what you have done?
but,
I see otherwise now.
4Jun14




the distance between my thoughts
lessens each day as my pen hand
writes more, and more, and more;

I am no longer conscious of my
own thoughts as they are thrown
out of me and onto paper at a speed
that overestimates my comprehension;

my thoughts are remotely operated
and I am merely the vessel that
transports them from there to here;

there is no other way and I fear
severe consequences when it stops
and I am left void, empty, and alone.
4Jun14




a hunger reaches out
from deep within that
is so desperate it
takes my breath away,
leaving me in a state
not of my own choosing,
so I may understand
the difference between
control and compassion.
4Jun14




night and day are
two demons fighting
for ownership of time
that neither can
fully possess,
that neither can
understand,
that leaves us
unsure of how each
day will unfold;
and, it is that
uncertainty which
keeps us focused
and wanting so much
to wake up again.
4Jun14




time means nothing
to these waves and their
persistence in reaching
the shore, nor do they
understand or care about
their points-of-origin so
far away from where they
are now, nor why this
dead end task must
be repeated forever and
I wonder why we cannot
be like these waves
sometimes,
and just exist.
4Jun14




the sky has lost
its colors from just
a minute or two ago,
changing into a
blackened grey
expressionless
appearance that is so
uninviting
and makes me
want to leave
ever so quickly; but,
it is not the colors
that beckoned me here
but the ever present
aroma of tranquility.
4Jun14




until next time
has a better ring
than farewell;
but, much time
will pass
before I return,
and you,
my dear,
will not look
anything like
how you look
today,
or,
even tomorrow
for that matter;
still,
I will miss
our morning
embraces,
and how you
offered me
your love
which I
always refuse.
4Jun14