Importance of Poetry

[enjoy being]

That's a shame. Yeah, reading ones old writings can be a rich experience that goes off in different directions.
Memories are only our prison but for the short moments when they are not our guide and companion.

[Dreamtimer]

Overfull

Your plate is overfull
Oh wait,
it's a platter
It's overflowing
You might make a splatter
Lighten the burden?
Lessen the load?
You took on too much
as you went down the road.
A few years to go
The boy, he will grow
And maybe you'll be able to go back to a plate.


I had a certain someone in mind when I thought of this.

[enjoy being]

Newness of old.

It was just a moment,
of here and there,
which grew in tempo,
and regularity.
Until it was not just a moment any more.
It is just a phase.
It shall pass they chorus.
It passed very closely.
So close that the whistling seemed to bite at the splinters.
Yet then it was gone.
Seeming more and more like just a moment as it faded away.
The shaking still lingers in the eaves,
plaited twigs holding onto the echo of what was.
Holding on to dust of ages.
Each day the sun pulls itself over the ridge board,
rubs it's palms along the paths,
and hovers there above many a face filled window,
staring back at their contemplations.