Here Comes October

It, the thing,

approaches us all

yet we try to forget “it”

“The Death”

knocking at our doors–

To talk of it

is chilling

to our bones

because we grow colder,

and cold is pain

it always has been

and somehow we lost

that memory–

But we try, and try

to ignore… “it”

(we will call the thing)

with happiness

with poppies in our thoughts

with the sweet smell

of spiced coffee

and autumn leaves–

Then it comes to us

a soft whisper

in the breeze,

“this is all temporary”

none of “this”

last forever

but we walk, and walk

with one leg to another

to our jobs

to our slave boxes

to our homes

to our distractions

to our one last beer

to our high-rise efforts

to our computers

to our smartphones

to envy’s demise,

a parade of people

we have never met

and finally,

to our forgetfulness

for ignorance

has always been bliss

yet that burgundy leaf

had never looked better

for love itself

was truly alive,

to die is bliss

but to live is joy–

A man is not a skull

nor is he merely flesh

but he is a story

with a beginning

and end

an untold one

that lasts forever.

Lemonwood

My mustard yellow sweater

is grown into the blue sky

as a blossom of heat

rests over a melted pot

overlooking fields

where I sip my green tea

in a tiny, wooden cup-

I sit on my knees

open face to see

a cloud move by

like a flame

far above without border

in the midst of falling leaves

dead in the yellows, oranges

and the reds-

Everything is finally free,

but here I am

a voice

gentle, like a sleeping giant

while every ear

is missing

resisting every smile

in-between.

Catalyst Bloom

Beyond it is obtainable
 
no, you aren’t selfish
 
but true to yourself
 
for all gold that glimmers
 
is not a yellow leaf
 
nor is it made in fire–
 
and the fragile diamonds
 
covering our leather skin
 
does not bring a smile
 
for smiles have never been
 
everlasting
 
with the exception of one
 
on the other side
 
of the sliding glass door
 
but no ever dared to try it
 
for the opportunity
 
never arrived,
 
and we are but moleskins
 
writing down depths
 
of what we can grasp–
 
here I watch the orange leaves
 
fall from your mother and father’s
 
table
 
they cover your white cloth
 
and perfume
 
like the generations of before
 
and still, an opportunity
 
never arrived,
 
so instead at my hour
 
I knock on opportunity’s
 
door
 
to find nothing inside
 
except for my reflection
 
blooming without me knowing
 
and a napkin crumbled
 
in my hand like
 
a leaf that crunches
 
like burnt paper.

Catching the World

The best things in life are those things that happen around us: from the moment you hold a red leaf in your hand to the moment you hold your wife’s hand.  You take the time to talk to your wife about many things, even silly things.  We talk about things that matter and the things that don’t matter.  We, humans, talk about ideas and only things that are fleeting.  We often forget… We are fleeting as well.
 
We stand up.  We listen and shout.  We let media and the world control our thoughts.  Why isn’t our attention on the red leaf?  Where is your lover’s hand? Fall is coming and it is here.  As shortly as we looked to see it come we will see it go.  We forget about these things because we distract ourselves. It’s our fault, for we let the ever so irrelevant overpower the relevant.
 
The relevant is the wind in the air that passes through the trees.  The relevant is the now, the present.  It is the smile of someone that loves you from across the room. It’s the seconds counting down your night to end when you don’t want it to. It’s the sweet-salty caramel in desserts and crispness of the fresh air.
 
Many times the world looks like chaos.  Yet, we never talk about the good things.
 
The good things are happening right before our eyes.  It is the time when we take a walk. On our walk, we see an orange-gray cat rolling over a sunny road as he pretends to play with his imaginary friend.  He’s skittish now that you are approaching…
 
It’s the moment you look through a bush and thorns to see a black cow’s eye stare your eye from the other side of a fence.  You believe you think the cow’s eye is happy to see you, but it is only curious… There’s only a mystery in that moment, for we do not know what we see in each other…
 
It’s these little things that matter.  Whatever happened to them?  Why have we disappeared from these moments?  The world is only turning every ten feet in all directions as the leaves are falling.
 
Be still and catch the world spinning, before it turns you around the other way.

McIntosh Delicious

As life resembles it

one day we were strangers

an acidic arrangement

a gentle orange

sliced into an apple,

a grey and red

weathered apple,

green as grass

yellow and round

like the morning sun–

With our eyes open

and only one hand

to take

and see an ancient truth

come alive–

We are haunted

because we do not know

if the answer

is a sight we can handle,

but a light

a golden light

looks into the mirror

of our tree-like souls,

and we are deranged

with forgotten roots–

I walk up the silent hill now

bright green in its splendor

filled with harmony

and salty rain

with only one hole

in the sky to look

at the sky,

never has a day

been so quiet–

I grip, and take it now

for it is mine

all the days of my life

I will cherish it

without taste in my tongue

or water

in my eyes

the leaves will fall

and I will forget

life’s unspoken gift.