Tag: poetry of ig

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Recharge.

When each day ends we plug in our devices
and then we plug ourselves in, to our own screen-based vices –
Mind/body/spirit pacifiers, they almost feel required
as we take a break from our busy days and whatever else that transpired..


The ‘news’ is the same old and our eyes feel older
after so much exposure to bright lights and sudden motion,
It’s like a sunny, sandy beach, falling victim to erosion,
how our day-to-day is turning’to a sensory explosion..


The script is already so twisted, inverted,
that flipping it back seems a wee bit absurdist,
but what an idea it would be to just breathe, and relieve our five senses from digital screens. – RSM

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The Sculptor

A chisel and hammer stammer with the speed and clamor
of a hand driven jackhammer –
and the artist, the handler –
is precise as he is impatient,
sparring with the marble slab to carve a sacred new representation.

The stone was flown in from the doldrums over in Moldova, and
he’s crafting a goddess – so graceful, so flawless.

His hands cultivate a muted peace while fighting against time;
unfocused energy heads up his spine,
increasing his heart rate
with each imperfect puncture of the stone he molds.

As somebody once told,
it’s the work done preparing for the future that makes us old;

He make these fine cuts and chisel away.

He sculpts his dreams into the waking day. – RSM

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Life is Funny

How many mountains so we have to climb

to finally feel worthy of a little bit of time to unwind?

How many victories require a tax?

How many little breaks ended up bringing us back?

How often does a good life moment have some heavy fine print?

How do the happiest times turn to shit?

How does a celebration end up a challenge?

How do emo songs at midnight once again become valid?

How does paradise come with a catch?

How are we to face this? How are we to act?

How many little tricks does life like to play, and what do we make of it all, anyway?

– RSM

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Looking Forward

I look forward to being a morning person, reminding you of the time, and making breakfast,
while you sleep through your alarm clock.

I can’t wait to cook with you, clean with you, run errands, watch our shows, go on walks, have long talks over dinner, and make more routines with you.

I can see ahead, we’ll be pushing each other to be our best selves, having tough conversations, taking on new adventures to new places, both close by and far away, packing our love for each other wherever we go.

Every time the moon rises I look forward to our next day, because when the sun rises I get to be a morning person again, and be your sunshine when you wipe the sleep from your eyes.

Each day together has been a gift, and with every sunrise I look forward to being blessed again with your love. – RSM

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The Corners That We’ve Turned

We don’t often realize how sharp, nor round
were the corners that we’ve turned,
such feats, so unfound.

It’s only when we glance in the rearview mirror
that we see the long road behind us – then it becomes clearer.

The beaten pavement, faded, lined with trees
weave a long, winding set of all of our memories
that we forget to recall, like when friends became enemies
or that scene in Finding Nemo where he can’t say ‘anemone.’

We’re caught up in the present, racing against some kind of clock,
hugging that highway divider wall, but it’ll bring you to a stop
when you look back at the journey that brought you to this moment –
our lives have been our own path to create
as we find our true selves in each curve of the road, and
we don’t know much more about the way going forward,
but, slowing down, and looking back, provides a renewed focus.

You don’t often realize how sharp, nor round
were the corners that you’ve turned,
until you look back
at the map that you’ve crafted, so detailed, hand-drawn,
a trajectory travelled from our first few notes until the end of our very last song.

We’re so busy trying to hit the right notes that we forget to sing our own praises,
so smile back at the road behind you, no matter how beaten, no matter how faded. – RSM

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Seven Haikus About Life, And Stuff.

‘Beauty’ is the air

between your eyes and the things

and people you love.

–

Important moments

pass by so quickly, that we

replay them ’til death.

–

Intimate moments

with oneself are works of art:

Powerful. Priceless.

–

Life is a dancefloor,

ballroom dance moves are the norm.

I like pop-and-lock.

–

Staggering to think

how many realities

we’ve made, and destroyed.

–

It’s hard to maintain

a peaceful flow, like water,

but fires are no match.

–

Understanding you

is your most important skill.

You are worth your time. – RSM