Secret Thoughts

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
Thoughts and Murmurs over Time and times in a life - of fear, of discipline, ashes and flames

Submitted: November 23, 2011

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Submitted: November 23, 2011

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Slow ~ Deaf Child Playing
I must go slowly
I must not hurry
When I hurry I don’t listen
And I must listen in order to hear.
When I go too fast
When I don’t listen and can’t hear.
I deal words too fast?And end up playing Solitare

Fear
Early waking, first image
Irregular line of light
Trace of fear
Like a tear in fabric
Permitting a glimpse
Of what lies underneath
Like a crack
In the plaster of Ordinary
Fear erodes
Letting in the glare of uncertain weather.

Some Tao Wisdom
CLOSE YOUR MOUTH
Shut off your senses
Blunt your sharpness
SOFTEN YOUR GLARE
Settle your dust
Return to simple

Sense Memory
Darkened room
Sun outside
Smell of old ashes
Dull glass vases
Fading bouquets
Fusty sheets
Covering nothing

Apples
I call you Apples, he says, laughter in his voice. 
Hi ya, Apples.
Now me, I’m an Orange
Thick skinned
Warm
Golden fleshed
Rough
Slightly seedy
Succulent
Juicy sweet
He laughs
HATE the cold
LOOOOOVE the heat
 But YOU!  You’re Apples
Thin-skinned
Cool
Pale Fleshed
Polished
Slightly tart
Crisp sweet
You HATE the heat
You LOOOOOVE the cold
Yeah, he says,
You’re Apples all right
And he laughs --
Hi ya, Apples.


© Copyright 2017 Wilbur. All rights reserved.

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