See how he goes, lightlyAmong the golden shades of fallen autumn leavesSeeking out the meaning of his soul, the wonder of all that we can know through the marrow of this fleeting, human, being See how he goes, with words like wandering stars tracing graceful tangents and ellipsesFinding poetry in late night conversations overheard in [...]
Simplicity, humilityAre the thoughts that most appeal to meAt the threshold of a window ledge Yet all my dreams are feveredMy thoughts all cantileveredStill against the bitter end I hedge And I’m quite good with hedges ©1902, ThaumatropeMind. All rights reserved.
The storm has raged and seethed and sungAnd rent the air and left undone The knots that tie both time and tideWith niceties now cast aside-like pauper's clothes Bruised, spent and fragrant loversLinger rapt in sweet repose ©1902, ThaumatropeMind. All rights reserved.
Death awaits at journey’s endA silent half-thought sentence Waylaid, suspended in mid-airFloating neither up nor down, just there With care I would attend the words wrought for that closing phraseSo many drafts, how densely filled, that final august page How tedious, how tiresome, the bleak unmetered textIn vain anticipation of some good that must come [...]
We never think we’re badWe never think it’s usMaybe just a little madBut we don’t like to discuss it Doesn’t matter that we’re hauntedBy the things we've said and doneThat we still live in the shadows castBy former friends and loversAnd cower, cold, and shunned by others It’s over, and over againIt’s the gaze of [...]
Spare me the middleSpare me the time spent muddlingThe money managingThe taking the time to mind your manners The panaceas, the plannersThe mindless mindfullnessThe painless leveraged loss and gainThe principled stance, the love that never took a chance Heed the dull ache in your heartBleed, feel, cheat reasonFollow the fleeting feelingThat tonight is a new [...]
You can brush your teethIn the showerFor a good whileIt may take an hour Maybe longerBut by that timeIt may not be your teethIt may be your feet are too big The shattered ghost-riderShadows the clandestine peloton ©1902, ThaumatropeMind. All rights reserved.
As everThe things we doThe things we makeThe things we sayWill in time be rustedWorn and washed away Our dreams and cares will passOur arms and handsAnd legs and feetOur brains and heartsNo more or less than trees and leaves and grassWill die and fade The sun will set at last © 1902, ThaumatropeMind. All [...]