On the Hours Go

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In the long hours, I pace
Magazines finished, reruns watched
And on the hours go

Windows peered at, mail opened
Cabinets closed, dishes stacked
And on the hours go

Apps clicked, messages checked
Empty food wrappers, pitched
And on the hours go

Closets cleaned, laundry folded
A second cup of tea, dirty in the sink
And on the hours go

Who am I in all this restlessness?
Who stands before the fridge, again?
And on the hours go.

Like the old widows of old
I wait at this house, for whom to come I do not know
And on the hours go

Not Broken

Sunset storm over the Rockies: Photos by Noelle

Sunset storm over the Rockies: Photos by Noelle


Fiery warrior
Sweat covered face
Bitter salt in mouth
Broken
Broken
Again and
Again
Dirt in nails
Bloodied thighs
Will not break!
Broken
Broken
Again and
Again
Thirsty for more than water
Desperate for more than home
Bags of tricks all gone
Broken
Broken
Again and
Again
Spirit crushes there is only gnashing
Sprirt tears away there is only wrapping
Spirit loves and venom comes spitting
Broken
Broken
Again and
Again

Broken
Nothing left, such tragic weeping
Confusion consumes a rotted mind
Broken
Broken
Again and
Again
Bleeding out old stories
Quiet, a battlefield stretcher
Blindness and fear pool in the dirt
Broken
Broken
Again and
Again

Love, a silent dawn
Sleeping, an old hound at the feet
Reliable, loyal, persistent as the sun

Fiery warrior
Sweat covered face
Only salt in mouth
Rising
Rising
Again and
Again
Not dead, just empty
Not lost, just arrived
Not broken
Not broken
Again and
Again

Lonely Haiku

Free Bing Photos: 100 images of solitude

Free Bing Photos: 100 images of solitude

The piece below was written by my Insight Timer friend, Roy Mason in New York. I had been working on a poem related to loneliness that just wasn’t coming together. I sent it to Roy and he flipped it, most lovelingly, on its head and produced this beautiful layered haiku. Far better than my original piece. It is an honor to post it here.

Lonely Haiku

Magazines read twice,
Fridge food contains emptiness;
My heart: comfortless.

Mind wheels are spinning,
Sleep is sought but elusive.
The hours go on…

I ask: who am I?
The deafening loneliness!
Waiting for the light.

Outcast and apart,
I hear the chimes of the clock;
Then tick tock, tick tock.

I, disconsolate,
Endless pacing with worry.
Five O’clock: birds sing.

Little Gem

Re-blogged from Enchanted Nature Facebook Page

Re-blogged from Enchanted Nature Facebook Page

“There’s a dark side to each and every human soul. We wish we were Obi-Wan Kenobi, and for the most part we are, but there’s a little Darth Vadar in all of us. Thing is, this ain’t no either or proposition. We’re talking about dialectics, the good and the bad merging into us. You can run but you can’t hide. My experience? Face the darkness, stare it down. Own it. As brother Nietzsche said, being human is a complicated gig. Give that old dark night of the soul a hug! Howl the eternal yes!”

Stuart Stevens