week 241 ~ I’m beginning to live with future tense

I’m beginning to live with future tense
once more expanding my conjugations
to will and shall and verbs like hope the ones
I’ve been afraid to say out loud no sense
tempting the subjunctive when a sequence
of events in future perfect beckons
besieged still by emotional demons
I wobble precariously the pretense
of the conditional implying that
the ground could give way any minute and
I’d be plummeting through the past again
insecure disillusioned railing at
imperfect while trying to stop and stand
on the crust of could-be despite was-then

week 240 ~ the time before everything that has been

the time before everything that has been
wrapped in the scent of phlox and sound of rain
on the pavement of my heart before pain
dug ruts for rivulets of tears begin
stretched out on the grass watching ants scurry
by or jumping off the shed roof into
the waiting branches of the big spruce who
could eat their ice cream cone slowest not me
but I tried back in those lost summer days
of sunshine memories melting kool-aid
popsicles when I was never afraid
when happiness blossomed so many ways
easily beautifully without regret
before the time of so much to forget

week 239 ~ time dissolving slowly

time dissolving slowly
stalls as the light should change
even then we can’t see
time dissolving slowly
sorted by memory
lost pieces rearrange
time dissolving slowly
stalls as the light should change

week 238 ~ if somehow there can be a choice

if somehow there can be a choice
let me know now as I plan my
escape falling from grace will I
ever find reason to rejoice
recognizing my inner voice
in the things I cannot control
as they blossom and become whole
in an instant without knowing
where they’ll go fervently hoping
the real dream isn’t one I stole

week 237 ~ shake off old winter’s doldrums

shake off old winter’s doldrums
linger to smell the flowers
as April’s cold grasp succumbs
shake off old winter’s doldrums
and smile for finally spring comes
in fragrant sunlit hours
shake off old winter’s doldrums
linger to smell the flowers

week 236 ~ anarchists or enemies

anarchists or enemies
bombs in the streets of Boston
terror on a sudden breeze
anarchists or enemies
a peaceful afternoon flees
the chaos can’t be undone
anarchists or enemies
bombs in the streets of Boston

week 235 ~ nerve endings on the outside

nerve endings on the outside
attract too many signals
cry too many tears can’t hide

here comes tragedy decide
what scenario cancels
nerve endings on the outside

a plan that pushes aside
pain as the future crumbles
cry too many tears can’t hide

can’t cope decisions collide
the future cut off dangles
nerve endings on the outside

 react too quickly cockeyed
optimism stabbed crumples
cry too many tears can’t hide

or make time admit it lied
as what won’t be changed frazzles
nerve endings on the outside
cry too many tears can’t hide

week 234 ~ for the rescue of memories

for the rescue of memories
we stand hopelessly unprepared
extracting transcendence impaired
by innocence catastrophes
that overcome our histories
a defect of the human heart
too great to overlook yet part
of our quest to repatriate
loss until we can integrate
what we’ve forgotten and restart

week 233 ~ when true

when true
turned false
who knew
when true
was through
its waltz
when true
turned false

week 232 ~ we’re never going to know the ending

we’re never going to know the ending
of this dream not a play or a mistake
it’s a mystery of our own making

when the true prize somehow avoids taking
we try to learn from process though hearts break
we’re never going to know the ending

but we are curious as cats nothing
stops us we jump off the roof wide awake
it’s a mystery of our own making

 for there must be someone getting this thing
right and hiding won’t exorcise the ache
we’re never going to know the ending

or where the truth is where the lies a thing
to tell us how long redemption will take
it’s a mystery of our own making

just to get through this life intact singing
the song we were born to and can’t forsake
we’re never going to know the ending
it’s a mystery of our own making