Science fiction, fantasy, mystery and what-not
I live a dull life
Behind the blinds
Peering out to see –
Is anyone trying
to get inside?
Watching all those neighbors
Coming and go
Wondering if the police
Are ever gonna show.
The crimes they’re committing
In my mind
Are the terrible most worse crimes
Of all time.
I need a big stick
To beat them all down.
Until I do, they’ll treat me
like some big orange clown.
The lens that I roll and find
In the dumping ground
Of my mind
Moving from cat
To food
Life and Mom
Conversations
Time
I search for a point
Feet on bridge
As Neurons
Sing
Telling me often
Let it be
Jamming with tunes
Coming up and in
I circle
Slipping on words
And sounds
Picking apart
Pieces of lint
“Shiny”
Pennies and nickels
Money we hold
Kept in jars
Doesn’t fold
Saved for
Rainy days
Other times
Dust collecting
As we add dimes
Quarters are coveted
Wash and wax
Till someone else
Counts the cash
“Going By”
Shadows dance
On mind walls
Coming alive
Hearing old songs
Whispering
Remember
When you see a smile
Ordering
Forget
When you freeze
For a while
Always there
Awakened
And dead
The people
You’ve met
The person
You’ve been
“Orientation”
Just like that
There I am
Slipping along
A spectrum
I don’t understand
Looking for footing
As I
Slide along
Grasping for pieces
Hoping to right
Wrongs
Smiling
Like everything’s ‘okay’
Looking for spaces
In places
Where I sit
Struggling
With something
To say
“Dwelling”
It’s just a moment
To explore the day
Lost in thought
Feeling old
Maybe gray
Hunting for a mood
That’s muddied
And sullen
Hoping answers
Might come
From sources
Hidden
I’ll sit a while
In this well of mine
Doing my business
Thinking
About time
“Reconsidering”
Framing comes
With a frozen
Snap
I blink again
Wondering
Where I’m at
How much time
Has passed me by
As I sit
Reflecting
Wondering why
Maybe it’s time to stand
And stretch
Get on with life
And off the bench
The explosion landed
In silence
Revealing exactly where he was wrong
And right
In one burst of time
Moment
Thought
Leaving him to sit with
details
The cracks show –
Spreading
He missed them
At first
Clocking them
Only after
Others
Commented.
He finds
Life emptying out
Contemplating
His time chasing
Time
Until time ran
Out of
Sight
Leaving him
With
All the time
Needed.
Giving him a
Smile –
Clues were
Forever
There
An unfelt
Hand
Pushing.
Middle age
Young age
Old age
A childhood time
Post modernism
Pre-industrial
Eras we define
Space age
Information age
Net age
Here we come
Knowledge at our fingertips
Truth is on the run
Thinking
Wishing
Wondering what will be
How will history
Change this age
Of truth
Of change
Of greed?
Sitting on the cusp
Of something
Trying to make sense
How long can this go on
With so many
On the fence?
If you ask me what it means
Uncertainty arises
I think I know what I see
I’m not sure
I like it
sighing
reading
thinking
restless
my mind twists and seethes
trapped
with mindless energy
about how the world
has changed
worrying
speculating
drifting
I wonder
what will come to be
roaming through memories
of hopes
history
half-remembered
dreams
darkness
spreads
across the nation
troubles
rise
around
the world
I struggle
to find the shadows
or how
we
once were
now I find
I’m frankly
a little
out of breath
I need to go somewhere
quiet
and give my brain
a rest
I saw
and thought
what is it
that
I think
I see
on that
wall?
is that a fly
a speck of dirt
a spider
or
very tiny
bee?
I moved closer
to see
what
I thought
I saw
then I got
distracted
when I thought
I heard
a song
listening to
the rhythm
I thought
I know
this
tune
so I started
singing
with it —
and forgot
to look
at all
In the garden of love and hope
things appear level
but this is a slippery slope
where loss hurts like the devil
words drive worrying stumbles,
and feelings force hurtful falls
sometimes no one answers
your quiet, urgent calls
you fall
you lie
you get up
you swear
never again
but you keep on going in there
to see
what you find
hoping love and answers
will find you there
in time
Time races by
A flash of a second
A flutter of thought
The mess of a moment
Dreams flood in and fade away
Nothing seems to stay
For more than a day
Emotions arrive
In a moment’s wash
Soaking every other feeling
And thought
Debilitating and deepening, stealing thunder
Leaving us worked over
Tired
Feeling plundered
Thinking comes
Arriving from odd angles
Hooked by a word
A sound
A gaze at another
From all of it comes
Thoughts of life
Ways to improve
Methods to lesson our strife
So we go on our intelligent ways
Being
Coping
Seeing
Trying to look beyond the day
Michael Seidel, writer 