spiritual evolution

/ grumpygorman

alas, i can’t spar
darling..

not in a state
like this-

i’m the tilting
tower..

not vine scaling
prince-

summon
still..

i’ll come running
like peasant
to your
sill-

for
sweetheart..

i can’t take
a hint.

Pixabay


/ grumpygorman

a passion, poisoned-
must spit to
get it
out-

tame desires turned
dangerous,

be
predictable..

or
courageous?

pixabay
/ grumpygorman

dreamt of chicago
again,

with red
pen-

crossing off
blues,

but will chicago
dream of
me?

“sorry, man..” croons
on sufjan,

that letter, never mailed .

to sweetheart of
white veil,

i rue in cab
she’d..

dare not
hail

through these
shards of
town,

but chicago follwed
me home
so..

I’d not sleep
alone.

Pixabay
/ grumpygorman

let’s crawl back
from day’s
end..

scrawled back to dearest
boyhood friend,

we played
house-

i was mother,
she acted
dad,

we stayed fluid
in roles of
spouse-

and worked our
issues
out.

pixabay




/ grumpygorman

sorted out
of order,

years unpacked-
arranged backwards,

stumbling through
my clutter..

sheathing blunted
box cutter.

pixabay
/ grumpygorman

reverberance of
connection, amplified..

in pockets
of quiet,

as heart blossoms
unsilent,

cased in
chicken wire-

twisting
and crumbling–

uncluttering
escape..

from mind’s
useless mumbling.

pixabay
/ grumpygorman
Pixabay

dear drill, toothy
drill-

rattlin’ skull
still..

in chamber of
respite

your grind
bites

most
desperate.

/ grumpygorman

sir rooster mounts
farm table,

mute, with proud
intent–

bold, for beast
so quiet,

feathers fan bed’s
drowsy brood-

rousing but
seldom
rude.

pixabay
/ grumpygorman

summon spring,
quick!

‘fore we
fade into forget,

winter wheezes til
shivers sieze
breath-

grinding time
forth..

sundial tilted
north.