Poems

Tethered

noreply@blogger.com (Cameron) — Tue, 06 Dec 2022 13:00:00 +0000

Here we are again, tethered to desks by headsets
ready to yank our ears off if we stray too far
piping the neverending stall tactics into our ears
as we don't actually get to the root of it all.

Maybe it works differently in your head,
maybe you have an office with a loudspeaker
so you have freedom to roam about like a gazelle
exploring the vast plains of your native habitat

Me, I'm not even caged, I am chained here.

Of course it's not locked, it's just plugged with a one-eighth inch jack
that I could easily rip out of socket and physically flee
but some locks are not opened with a key
or the key is locked inside my own head

It's after 5, so all should be time to wrap up
alas we're still stuck here with you
listening, waiting for answers
that never seem to come.

Just a Small Change

noreply@blogger.com (Cameron) — Fri, 02 Dec 2022 13:00:00 +0000

"There's nothing constant except change,"

they say, trying to make everything feel better

but sometimes in my head I need the quiet repetition

of routine and constancy.

The constant swirling and whirling is all reaction

not planned, not contrived as a brilliant strategic

masterminded plot to improve, but rather knee-jerk

reactive to stimuli without any forethought.

By now, we should know. We should accept.

The real geniuses never make it if they don't fake it

Maybe they can't. Maybe they won't.

Maybe they do and know it I don't.

It's been some days and some days more

since I tried to understand the score.

But now the pattern starts to make sense.

It isn't about the change itself, it never was.

The real maxim that we've come to learn

is buried in the actions of those that follow.

"There's nothing constant except"

the reaction of those unprepared to make a change.

Inside the Box

noreply@blogger.com (Cameron) — Tue, 19 Jul 2022 12:00:00 +0000

The box must have belonged to a mime

because I can't see the walls

neither can you

can't feel them either, to be honest

at least not with my hands

but I know they are there

closing in.

Again, being honest, I'm only aware

of their presence once, maybe thrice

every week, and usually I feel free

even if I am not

I don't have a key to open the latch

I'm not even sure there's a gate, just walls

surrounding me

Today in particular I am aware of their size

smaller than usual, maybe a few inches across

and there seem to be two sets of them

one inside my skull crushing my brain

the other encasing my heart

I'm not sure the shape, but I can still feel them

getting smaller.

By this evening my confinement will seem ended

but this is a folly it is just my forgetfulness

failing to remember the walls and their location

like punching a mime I can throw my hands and body

through the walls without damage to me

or the walls but even without the brick and mortar and drywall,

they remain.

And I remain, locked inside.

Eddies and Pools

noreply@blogger.com (Cameron) — Sat, 16 Jul 2022 13:00:00 +0000

It's been a while

Seven years and maybe change

but a few of those years don't count

and have we really changed?

If so, perhaps for the worse

The animal instinct raging as the

selfish take their toll and their tax

on the psyche of the rest as they flock and flounder

The anger at our neighbors

and the exposing of beliefs so foreign

the aliens aren't from other countries

but other planets, galaxies with gaps

in what should have been civility,

ethics only count to maintain control

communication a tool to lie

respect for others a weakness

Maybe change is for the best

masks and carapaces ripped away

ugliness exposed, celebrated by some

the rest look on mouths agape

But hey that was then and this is now

the days spread apart but condensing

two thousand plus fly by

and nothing stays the same except the pace

I can't promise anything returns

to the way it was then, now,

but for once, some words can flow

that will sit without conversation

Stagnant words can still ring true

the longer they sit and age

while others seem flippant and not diffused

by the filters of pain and rage

Color of the Day

noreply@blogger.com (Cameron) — Mon, 06 Apr 2015 13:00:00 +0000

Grey day, hazy day,
fog lifted yards above the ground
the light filtered, slightly green
brightens new spring growth
muting all the reds

The morning drags with hint of rain
through to the afternoon
when finally the burning sun
illuminates the ground below
accented primary colors

Finally the solar exit
lunar time has come
with reflected day light
comes silver brightness on a window
all else in blue-black shadow

Turnip

noreply@blogger.com (Cameron) — Sun, 05 Apr 2015 13:00:00 +0000

Oh, when I drop that little speck in the ground
starts the clock on anticipation
waiting for the first sprout
then the leaves to grow thick and tall
cut down the first batch and let them regrow
meanwhile that bulb underground swells
white top pushing the soil from above
masking the subterranean purple

Bon Voyage

noreply@blogger.com (Cameron) — Sat, 04 Apr 2015 13:00:00 +0000

I guess there are nicer ways to say,
"Get out of here,"
when a guest has overstayed welcome.

I personally prefer, with a smile,
to simply wish, "Bon voyage,"
since it is French.

Artificial

noreply@blogger.com (Cameron) — Fri, 03 Apr 2015 13:00:00 +0000

What is humanity
What sets it apart
What differentiates

From machine
From mimicry
From models

When the artificial
Becomes less and less discernable
From the organic

Will nature evolve
Will humans expand
Will there be a difference

From men and women
From marionettes
From machine

The Secret Keeper

noreply@blogger.com (Cameron) — Thu, 02 Apr 2015 13:00:00 +0000

Shhhh
the blanket mutes every wave
before it hits my ears
but those that survive
the muffler
die in my thoughts
never repeated

Resistance is Futile

noreply@blogger.com (Cameron) — Wed, 01 Apr 2015 13:00:00 +0000

Or so they say
I remember something about that
from my favorite Cake song.

I have a feeling that saying
is popular among those in power
to deny those without

as if words and repetition
are more resilient than actions

"It is useless to resist us"
is prescriptive, not descriptive
attempting to persuade rather than convince

The real power hides
in the apathy of the oppressed
to refuse to act

If instead of refusing to act,
they refuse to believe the futility?

What a world it might be.

Since Five Minutes Ago

noreply@blogger.com (Cameron) — Sat, 12 Apr 2014 05:10:00 +0000

I read three blog posts,
checked my Twitter feed,
posted a recipe to Facebook
(even though I think most people
would think you do that on Twitter),
checked up on my bank balance
(I didn't spend anything in five minutes)
oh, and I wrote a poem.
What did you do in five minutes?

Greetings from Scenic New Mexico

noreply@blogger.com (Cameron) — Sat, 12 Apr 2014 05:03:00 +0000

I didn't even think this would be a personal
sort of message but I did want you to know
I was thinking about you, and here I was
where I could buy you a postcard, like the
olden days when that meant something.
Love you

Every Journey of One Thousand Miles

noreply@blogger.com (Cameron) — Thu, 03 Apr 2014 20:21:00 +0000

Every journey of one thousand miles
begins with a single step
or so they say in platitudes

But I'd counter it's the travel
not the start nor end that
matters across the latitudes

Friendships are built
riding along the two lanes
passing through the land

More so than drinking
margaritas, feet and toes
embedded in the sand

Where to begin

noreply@blogger.com (Cameron) — Thu, 03 Apr 2014 16:21:00 +0000

It's always confusing,
knowing where to start
"Start at the beginning" they always say
like that helps you identify it.

The truth is, where to start
is often less important than
when to start. And that's clear:
right now.

The Anticipation and the Anticlimax

noreply@blogger.com (Cameron) — Wed, 26 Mar 2014 13:53:00 +0000

Can you feel it?
I can't believe it's finally here!
Hold on, let me catch my...

<inhale>

OK there.
<exhale>

Still, why are you not
as pumped as I am?
Jump jump jump! Today is the day!

And then it's over.

Clockwatching in the Late Afternoon

noreply@blogger.com (Cameron) — Tue, 30 Jul 2013 21:43:00 +0000

4:43

Tick Tock

I tell you what, it has most definitely

been quite the productive day.

Started this morning with a bang and have been

chasing down the fire drills up until about 15 minutes ago.

Man, if only I could tell you the pile of problems

I had to tackle today.

Nothing like that to suck the charge right

out of those old batteries.

Phone's dead, and so's my internal fire, gotta tell ya,

sapped and zapped.

Now I am just waiting until the light turns greeen and

I can get out of here today.

4:44

In The Sun

noreply@blogger.com (Cameron) — Wed, 17 Jul 2013 02:25:00 +0000

Blinded by reflected light
head turns toward a giggle,
a splash, and reaching for the towel
sun's warmth drying the resting revelers

Maybe sandwich

noreply@blogger.com (Cameron) — Tue, 18 Jun 2013 14:31:00 +0000

Always yes or no with this one.
No, I didn't mean "yes" or "no" -
I meant "yes or no" as in
"maybe"

Never a firm commitment.
All I really wanted to do was
go grab some lunch, and I asked
to check availability, and it's "maybe."

What's the time limit on a "maybe" anyway?
An hour, a week, five minutes before definitive?

All I know is I'm off to grab a sandwich.

Starry Night

noreply@blogger.com (Cameron) — Tue, 11 Jun 2013 15:49:00 +0000

"Used to see stars up there,"
he says, pointing a wrinkled finger straight up.

Unsure what he means, the boy stares
just a while, at the sky, which is a uniform
purplish-gray.

"Now the only way is if you are in a plane or
something above the surface," the old man says.

A divine listener intervenes, and in the distance the boy hears an explosion.

The lights dim, and the stars twinkle. Just for a moment.

Special Delivery

noreply@blogger.com (Cameron) — Tue, 04 Jun 2013 15:44:00 +0000

I've been waiting for days

the package arrives on the step

and the dogs go crazy

headlong at the door jumping and crashing

Brown cardboard, nobody takes

the time to wrap a package

in brown craft paper anymore

tied up with string

Just generic boxes and shipping tape

slapped on with computer generated labels

making the package less personal

despite the personalized marketing

Type more

noreply@blogger.com (Cameron) — Tue, 26 Feb 2013 14:00:00 +0000

It's a late night
just cranking through a few more
words on page, virtual
poetry is delaying productivity
or is it

is a mission accomplished at the expense of another complete?

Measure Twice

noreply@blogger.com (Cameron) — Tue, 19 Feb 2013 08:30:00 +0000

It's a stretch
of ruler
or tape to
measure feet

or inches
just one or
two to make
the marking

graphite drags
mark on wood
straight line shows
where to cut

laser lines
sawblade spins
bringing down
to slice through

kickback but
sawdust cloud
passes by
clean and done

Dead Set

noreply@blogger.com (Cameron) — Tue, 12 Feb 2013 06:30:00 +0000

I'm dead set.
I mean that in the most
I'm dead set.
I already told you, fool
I'm dead set.
This is gonna happen, and it's

Down.
You know you gotta be
Down.
Like you friends, like you neighbors
Down.
Dedicated, freak - like I told ya

You gotta realize.
I don't think you been listening
You gotta realize.
This is not going away
You gotta realize.
You are a part of this

If I Were You

noreply@blogger.com (Cameron) — Fri, 11 Jan 2013 04:31:00 +0000

I sure as hell wouldn't walk around
with that smug look on my face like
I owned the world. Just sayin' friend-o
that maybe there's something coming
your way that you aren't yet aware
of. I mean, hey, who am I to tell you
what to do, right? You know everything
there is to know about just about everything
right? But just in case there is one thing
you may have forgotten there, you might
want to ease off on your toothy toothy
grin for a few and kick back and listen
because someone may have something
to say that I think you might need to hear.

New Dawn

noreply@blogger.com (Cameron) — Tue, 01 Jan 2013 22:32:00 +0000

The rising sun
sets elsewhere

bringing along
new opportunities
new challenges

leaving behind
old failures
old memories

What has passed is past
And what is to come has not
But such is the beauty of a dawn.