Some say they've seen another world
where life and death collide
and all the earthly darkness
suddenly seems insignificant.
God, they say, waits on the other side,
offering salvation for a life well spent.
I've never been a big believer in angels and the heavens,
but some nights, I sit up wondering if maybe
there is more to this life than just
shooting whiskey and writing bad poetry.
Maybe God is up there saying
"Don't worry, darlin', it'll all be worth it someday."
I stood beneath the sky,
reached above, and clapped my hands twice,
“okay, chop-chop…
your vacation is over,
time to come home now!”
so the sky opened its mouth,
but the only thing to ever come out
(to touch the Earth again)
was the blanket of snow,
the airplane in Moscow,
a small piece of shrapnel,
the skydiver in Nashville,
raindrops from the window-sill,
cigarette butts in the landfill,
a winter storm’s icicle
a grieving mother’s feet
for the first time
in twenty seven weeks.
you left too early
for your vacation
but maybe it was for
a homecoming.
I would sit at the edge of the moon with you.
we would light a cigarette and share it,
you would hold a globe in your hand like a freckle,
and like a child, I’d watch you play with it.
your hair would shine a beautiful Harlow gold
your eyes would display a fierce emerald green,
your skin would glow a blinding ivory white
yes, you would sit beside me.
where you wouldn’t have to go anywhere
where we wouldn’t have to leave
no one would know the hiding place
that belongs to just you and me.
There, at the edge of the moon.
Could It Be? (A Villanelle) by richard lynn livesay
Release thy sting O Earthly care
And know within the spirit’s call
Beyond this world, a place to share
Conscious of this world’s despair
That wants control of reason’s wall
Release thy sting O Earthly care
A higher power waits to share
Our choices free, I shall not stall
Beyond this world, a place to share
That still small voice is always there
Take time to listen, it beckons all
Release thy sting O Earthly care
We’re in a cycle that we must bear
For spirit to experience and recall
Beyond this world, a place to share
Be there passion to become an heir
Truth will emerge as we rise and fall
Release thy sting O Earthy care
Beyond this world, a place to share
As slavery’s chains loosen like a belt
For we are free and sovereign beings
The One People embrace another way
Truly equal without the competitive play
For we are free and sovereign beings
Manifesting gifts of spirit, as alumnus
Transcendent, not born into numbness
For we are free and sovereign beings
Quantum physics reveals all are vibration
Living earth feels our intentional relation
For we are free and sovereign beings
In the now, with positive thoughts to reveal
We are dynamic creators with a loving zeal
For we are free and sovereign beings
Empathy and compassion are beyond all gold
Minds are powerful computers in our control
For we are free and sovereign beings
Banks, no longer needed begin to fold
Nightmares become sweet dreams retold
For we are free and sovereign beings
Not money but human worth is value
Given in care and love without an IOU
For we are free and sovereign beings
So we shall sing in truth as is intended
And change the status quo, contended
For we are free and sovereign beings
My soul is the abandoned theatre down the block,
next to the internet café where I first met you
and the Greek deli with the French fries—you know the one.
It’s a big building, old, and you can tell it was pretty once.
But the doors are chained and deadlocked now.
Peek through the window, crawl past the tarp
and the homeless guy sitting on a pizzabox—
Walk the distance to the stage, hear your steps
echoing down to you from the unlit ceiling.
Turn and face the missing audience
Pause
There is a silence so sincere here that it is reverence, and
a sadness that has so much purpose, it has simply ceased to be sadness anymore.
The arches and columns are flying buttresses, the boarded up windows
stained glass windows— the graffiti the mark of Michelangelo,
a faceless black hoodie ducking out of sight—
it is a pocket of forgotten humanity.
My soul is a cathedral,
a work of art a thousand days in the making;
There among the dusty stars and in the soft stillness
exists the tenderest form of worship.
My soul is the abandoned theatre down the block
—you know the one.
she was borne today
from this life to the next
from tortured flesh and bone
to something far more beautiful
incorruptible, now
I wonder what she sees -
what wonder waits beyond this veil
this travail of living -
this life of limitations
is purity as breathless -
or color as bright -
are arias as sweet as we imagine
will we finally comprehend -
love
so stifled here in this coat of clay
we can see so far, but not beyond
desire to reach
but cannot touch our dream
each day a reminder of our limits
always waiting for answers
dare we yield all we know
for all we don't -
she dared today
slipped her skin
for a new life never ending
A craving for the green
Dormant and unseen
Less anger, more aggression
Three hits, it's just an obsession
To be
Above the sky,
Imagine being that high
To touch the moon
One time, one afternoon
To taste that sunshine
So sweet, so divine
Clouds, cluttering my mind
Feeling high, feeling fine.
earlier this morning than other mornings
I woke to rain peppering window panes
water filling street storm drains
dark sky upon a dark world, spilling
birdsong inspired, my soul thrilling
rain will fall; yet, the birds still sing
this eerie dawn, ghostly resurrection
petulant deluge, drenching, dank, and gray
a somber intone for the day
as if my thoughts weren’t dark enough
nasty bits of swirling stuff
rain will fall; yet, the, birds still sing
the thought occurred “how can that be”
precariously perched in some oak tree
unspared foul weather, unlike me
yet sing with joy, rapturously
while the rain still droned and birdsong choired
from a bank of thoughts obscured in fog
one thought into clear view slogged
how wretched, I, to grouse and mewl
of life unfair, unkind, oft cruel
rain will fall; yet, the birds still sing
I’m warm and loved - suburban “nest” is dry
the jalopy starts each day on cue
my old shoes don’t shine, but they will do
if tomorrow comes, it’s a brand new day
these clouds may part; the sun may play
yes, rain will fall; yet, the birds still sing
Today
I am
alive.
A complex
structure
of flesh
and bones
and water.
I am a passing figure of existence,
but today
I am
here.
In this date
and time
and place.
In this
planet
we call
Earth.
I am
Thinking.
Breathing.
Heaving
My thoughts
are powered
by
impulses
of fluid
and electrically charged particles.
I am a
bio-chemical being
of
complex cells
and organs
and matter.
I am a soul
that exist
in this physical
body.
I was once part of stars, you know?
I am that
fire;
that light you see
in a cloudless
dark
night.
But I am
no longer there.
I am here.
You have passed me
once
in the grocery store
where you buy
milk.
I am that man
you cut off
in the
check-out
counter.
You didn't notice have you?
That I was a star.
And maybe
you didn't know,
and so were you.