a poet that never penned a song...
almost
a love that might have been...
almost
a problem never solved...
eulerian
a road not taken?
just stop now
all the opportunities missed
shots not taken
investments not made
all the wouldas and shouldas
and missed kudos
water over the bridge
wind in the dust storm
almost... almost
writing a second poem today
whilst watching westerns, alliteratively,
bat tombstone wyatt palladin and
a maverick ranger but no zorro
no pecos anyone wild, bill, or other
nothing deep or existential
no awe, angst, or wonderment
no depth, no passion, no insights
no worries...
what is this poem doing here?
(well... it is lame)
deadrock reservation
june 2025
the lifelong longing
for some elusive else or more
is it a greener grass thing?
a spiritual emptimess?
plain old materialism?
a wee bit coveting?
or just too much tv?
i am not alone
we all are not alone
yet... too many of
the billions of us feel so...
in this teeming petri
too much time to what?
think? dream? ponder?
fighting to survive...
oh, that the fighting
was muscle and brawn
sweat and sinew
sword and shield
(the word drone perfectly misfits)
no that side of the fence
is hard scrabble where
too many die too young
this side is all steel, glass,
and concrete thoreauly
in self-help desperation
somewhere under the rainbow
june 2025
