Making, Making, Making

 

It’s ok to feel good every
once in a while!

Life’s treasure doesn’t come along
that often!

It lies in wait for
the right trigger.

Or is it time, and
we all run on

cycles?

For me the treasure never lasts
as long as I want it to.

(which would be most of the time)

Alas, far more time I’ve spent with
the bad seed brother in:

days of functionless, boring self regress, the urge to make, not part of the scene to put it mildly,

disconnected.

Those long days spent waiting for

the light,

the difference between/the two places living (with and without treasure)

unequal in their
distribution.

The longer distance in between has got

the upper hand?  There’s only so much

time to live in Treasureland?

My only hope?

To keep on making, making, making

until

the very very

end.

A Single Soul With Many Beating Hearts

… we shared our lungs and
the soot upon our fingers …

the sounds of crashing cars at night …
their steel wheels spinning  …
the sound of dynamos coupling …
the lonely whistle’s departure
the sound of blowing steam …

(singing lonely notes to us
in our dreams)
or
songs of departure
for those of us with
longing hearts
who sailed the rails
for hidden treasure
to feed their hungry hearts

never to be seen again …

Those of us who stayed endured
the soot that lived within our
lungs
we slept on grey sheets
we hung
to dry in
the sun of
yesterday’s
light …

How could we not share
our commonalities in
the sooty air of that
little town?!

We were carbon copies
who saw each other
everywhere …

How could we NOT share
in large part the sums of
our greater whole?

With every single entity
an overlapping part
of every single mind

we shared a single soul
with many beating

hearts .,..