Did I offend you?*
the new foreman doesn't know me
that well yet.
I move quickly. make noise
when I work. might not always
pay the respect others feel
themselves due.

sir. I've been declared dead once
already. my surgeon was a veteran,
he still gets chills when looking
back at how my heart
started up again after the final,
desperate zap.

this combination of high blood
pressure and Warfarin has me
knowing full well that I hover
above my grave at all times.
one sneeze or a falling object
combined with the right amount of
everyday bad luck

could see me either dead, or worse;  
needing help to feed or  
wipe myself.
it takes more than constructive
criticism to ruin my day.

more than mere words.
more than thoughtlessness.
more than a bad-beard-day,
a traffic jam or the kind of remark
that a foreman fresh to the site
might dispense to seem
confident to the boys.

my world is a friendly one.
it's easy to understand and forgive
when you've been so close to death
that all those who haven't, are 
children.

What is Happiness? Is it Success?
Is it Achievement that creates so much stress?
Success creates money that creates Pleasure and Bliss
But this is not what true Happiness is!

Happiness is not money, otherwise the rich would be glad!
There are people who are successful, why are they sad?
Happiness is not Pleasure that depends on many a thing
True Happiness is Peace, it is a state of being

Who doesn't want to be Happy?
Who wants to be Sad?
There may be a few, but they are then mad!
Everybody in this world wants to be Happy, wants to smile
But most have miseries that are longer than the Nile!


Money can buy pleasure, but it can't buy Happiness
Money can buy medicines, but health we can miss
Money can buy a diamond ring but love it cannot bring
Money cannot buy Bliss, though it can buy many a thing

Happiness is like a shadow which we cannot chase
Further it goes away, when you are in a race
Those who seek success may become an ace
But they are sure to end in the misery maze!

Happiness is something that everyone seeks
Happiness can be found on three little peaks
The first peak is Achievement, the second is Fulfillment
But the ultimate Happiness comes with Enlightenment

On the first peak of Happiness, what we get is Pleasure
We become Happy because of material treasure
The Happiness on this peak is not very strong
We are Happy for a moment, but it does not last long

The second peak of Happiness is called Fulfillment
It comes from being satisfied, living with Contentment
It is letting go of Pleasure that comes from Achievement
And living with Peace which gives Bliss that is consistent


But while we have Pleasure and while we have Peace
We will have Sorrow that will make our Bliss cease
If we want to be Happy, then Life's Purpose we must find
This is Enlightenment, it is transcending the mind

The Mind is a monkey, it steals our Peace
It makes us desire and it continues to tease
It swings like a monkey to a past that is gone
And robs our Bliss because of a future not yet born

If we want to be Happy, we must still the Mind
We must be still, Consciousness we must find
In this state, we are not caught in a thought
But this Bliss to enjoy, we sadly forgot!

Because we are chasing money, success and wealth
We lose our Life, we lose our health
We may have all the money that can give us pleasure
But we will not attain Peace which is the real treasure

Peace is the foundation of Happiness
Where there is no Peace, there cannot be Bliss
Therefore, we must make sure not to lose Peace of Mind
Then, true Bliss and ecstasy in life we will find

Far happier are those who have Peace in their tank
Than those who have a lot of money in their bank
Money is important, but it can't buy Happiness
With money, can you go shopping for Bliss?

But more important than pleasure and peace, is this
Finding Purpose leads to true Happiness
Who am I? Why did I come to earth?
True Bliss is realizing the purpose of this birth

When we overcome ignorance and we realize the Truth
We are free from sorrow when we get to the root
When we realize we are not the Body, Ego or Mind
All misery and suffering, we leave behind!

But to reach this state of Enlightenment is rare
To be Enlightened in Life, not many people care
We are ignorant that from misery we can be free
If we evolve on the Happiness peaks, from one to three

Everybody who is born must suffer pain
We become miserable again and again
But the one who realizes that who suffers is not me
He from the triple suffering is free


Because we think we are the Body, we suffer aches and pain
Because of the Ego, we are miserable again
Because of the Mind, we live with worry and fear
The Ego, the Body, the Mind, create many a tear!

But once we realize we are none of the three
Then from all miseries, we can be free
We can live with Bliss and Peace Enlightenment makes all miseries cease

Happiness is thus, not what we are taught
Alas! In the Success race we are caught To make money, is our primary thought And what true Happiness is, we forgot!

If you want to be Happy, pause for a while
You can be always Blissful, with a smile
Don't try to become Happy, then, Happy you can be
If you realize you are the Soul, not Mind and Ego, ME

True Happiness is being in that state of Consciousness
True Bliss lies in a state of Thoughtlessness
When we **** the Monkey Mind, we can have true Happiness
But ******* the Mind, we don't know this

The Mind is like a monkey, notice EY is its tail
It is Ever Yelling and Ever Yearning and it makes us fail
When we still the Mind, and its desires that create a thirst
Then we conquer Sorrow, that otherwise makes us burst!

There are many ways to be Happy and be glad
Count your blessings and you will never be sad
Discover True Love, the fountain of Bliss These are simple ways to Happiness

Success is not Happiness,
Happiness is Success
Those who don't realize this, end their life in a mess
They just zoom from the womb to the tomb
And all they have is misery and gloom

Instead, look at the Yogi who is always in Bliss
He is never in a state of unhappiness
Ever-united with the Divine, he knows it's all a show
Nothing is ours, the Yogi knows that we come and go

Do you want to be Happy? Then Happy you can be
Then realize that the peaks of Happiness are three
If you run after Success, Happy you will never be!
But if you are enlightened, from misery you will be free


To be Happy, you must live in the 'Now’
To be Happy, you must take a vow
Moment by moment, enjoy this treasure called life
Be enlightened, and you will be free from strife

Are all Successful people Happy? The answer is ‘no!'
But all Happy people are Successful, this truth we must know
We must realize the truth that life is a show
We will live with Peace, Love and Bliss, and go!

Not only will we be free from all suffering on earth
Realization will free us from Rebirth
It will free us from Fear, Worry, Anxiety and Stress
And give us Joy, Love, Peace and Bliss

So are you seeking Pleasure?
Are you seeking Happiness, Peace and Bliss?
Then Evolve from one Peak to another Peak
And you will attain the Eternal Happiness you seek.

Why are you stretching around?
Like a crazy creature, stretching
And erecting at every bossom’s sight
Don’t you know this to be vile?
Behavior so uncouth and basest
That all men on earth dislike,

Leave me alone master, leave me alone
Show me a happy man without a ****,
I will show you the sorriest point on earth,
Which woman burst not with ecstasy?
On taste of my nature, which woman?

Shut up you sly creature
And manage you mandibles,
You always stretch and stretch
As if you want to lacerate my muscles,
Don’t you know that you put me in risk?
*** is all over and you stretch like crazy,

Leave me alone and let me stretch,
Don’t fear disease and risks,
For *** is now impotent
***** blood is now natured
Above any nonsensical vice
Like *** and his brothers,

Stop stretching or I chop you off
I don’t want any burden of next kid
I am not in any pocket fitness,
For one more mouth and one more ****,

You are a foolish coward
You fear even your success,
Who told you kids are a burden
And parenting a curse?
Beautiful liars taught you these,
Can’t you see china and Islamic State?
Declaring their muscles and mighty,
For no other reason but children
Surest quivers needed in your arch,

For sure don’t stretch, calm down
And stay balmy or I tear you off my torso
Where will I get land in this world?
To contain the useless proceeds
Of your raucous *****?

I am tired of cautioning you
Or I dare you and dare you again
That perhaps I am on the wrong body
Those who are few need land,
But those who are populous need not,
For their victuals come from tertiary means,

I am finally tired of your rudeness,
If you stretch again I will be irate,
As it will be uncouth act of mannerlessness,
For you surely know that my wife is aged
She shares not in your school anymore
If you stretch again know then that you’re vile,

Look again at your thoughtlessness
Who told you that I am condemned forever?
To be feeding on old women, harridans and *****?
I no longer want them on my ****** menu
Feed me on the young wenches in a polygamous fit,
For the elders like you and many others on earth,
will only renew their  old sinews
By merely feeding on the French chicken,

Then you persist in one line like the possessed
Are you possessed by the ****** devil?
I don’t have any ****** energy for your business,
You only put me into a desire for what I cannot eat,
Leave me alone by quitting your vicious *******,

Fear not at all for how you will eat,
You fail to enjoy because of your ego,
You focus on the finish line alone,
Remember  the process in coition,
Tighten you **** to delay *******
And here you will cogitate with gusto,

Negroes! Negros! All over the world,
Again you want me to make more Negros,
Be aware that your melanin is an eyesore
The world looks at you but in pain,
Suppliers of blinkers cannot quench,
The thirst for these wares,
With which the world can put on,
To ward off the pains in the look
At the skin of the *****,

Fear not Negros don’t create themselves,
They come from the supremo of deities
All creation is beautiful in wisdom’s eyes
Whoever that hates creation hates the self
No other act can then match the wickedness.

soft voices and poor choices have led me here.
i want to laugh at how
my face shows its fear.
indecision and lack of vision
have left me for dead;
fed to the angry beast
left behind, in my head.
streams of consciousness
and everlasting thoughtlessness
make waves in their wake.
it all bends and breaks.
friends working to
stop the aches.
soon the lurking beast will awaken
and my world will be shaken,
but for now,
i will stay on my journey
to a jury
that will put these voices
to rest.

Empty threats  
Fill up pages
Seems I come to see
Angry ink of
Thoughtlessness

I guess I’m okay… What more can I say?
Forget it—never mind,
You wouldn’t understand anyway,
Would you even know what it's like?
Inside a scattered disconnected mind,
Employed to go on strike?
Where indirect misdirect
The sincerity at play,
When sinusoidal chaos spikes
And past meets the future present day?
As paranoid points outlandishly connect
At intervals of broken lines,
Memory lost in recollect,
An array of misshaped bells
Internally infect the eternal confines
Of infinite distributional decay,
Parallels with no intersect,
Streetwise cells with empty signs,
Burned out lights, potholes, and landmines,
Littered all the way.
How am I to convey that all those times
You let your mind wander away
That I was reading, thinking, dreaming,
Teeming, never idle, never strayed,
Seeing, being, so far and away,
Even the brightest intellect beaming,
Could not grasp the feeling
In the slightest of highest orders reeling,
Wound unbound, or as it would be seeming,
Imperfect, even to the disarray
Of the tamest prefect, whose verdict
Could not predict the reflect,
For in this world, seeing is deceiving,
As the lamest reject, defect,
Increasingly decreasing,
In simplistic bliss obey
Crowned unsound fallacies
That contradict all meaning,
Hiding behind reality, the actualities
Lest, protect the thoughtlessness perceiving,
Let me stop you if I may...
I must interject for I digress,
What nonsense was I weaving?
Forget it—I've lost my mind,
I best be leaving,
What more can I say?
It's periodic I must confess,
You probably don't care anyway,
Yeah, yeah, I'll be okay,
Until next time I guess,
I wouldn't want to be misleading.

Earphones pumping rhythms to keep apace to.
Relaxed, steady, determined one leg at a time.
Hedgerows gliding past, forever long.

Blood pumping, harder stronger faster.
Chest is heaving, struggling gasping.
Back is tense, muscles constantly contracted.

Focussing on anything else but breathing
Impossible,yet it is lovely.
Like an old friend, thoughtlessness embraces me.
Caressing and Familiar.

The
weight of the world sitting dumbly on
those fructose eyelids.

They, in turn.      melt into the mummified  
morning.

laying in the corner forever like a
favorite-shirt
ruined in the wash.
Every other stripe on you is stained pink
from
some cheap volunteer tee that ******              up
The whole load.

Each ray from the blinds
Takes some life away.


Searing past you- into the floorboards
with
quiet fury.

Time passes_
It shoves us down into compact spaces.
(but)
I thought of you
In a shoplifter's prayer.

(There is something left that evaporates out in the form of you)

I imagined you
Still.
But growing
Like
Crystal salts
Crusting up the pores of the earth.

Vapors fumbling upwards to rehydrate
My dry fingers_


We make decisions . that stick around.

We break off blisters. Rip little things that hang off our lips.
We take breaks before we need them.
Take too long to say
**** this.

Thoughtlessness.



Somewhere out there, they are screaming loud.

Somebody either cares or
Doesn't.


The marks on the carpet know better than
us
How to last forever

I am anti-matter.

Trending on Twitter.

Shooting a guest-spot on Two-and-a-Half Men.


A five-dollar foot-long
meal-deal of a man,

long on propaganda
  while short on substance;


A School-House Rock rendition of
Aspiration Asphyxiation

penning love-letters to Jesus
     beneath my breath
to abate the sensation that I'm just
     redundant protoplasm
with a pecker and a pocketbook



   failing to distract myself from the fact that
every intake of breath is a death sentence.


I have no praise-worthy abilities.
You can't **** your way into heaven.


   Satan himself
caught a better break being
cast out of the kingdom--

there is certainty in condemnation.


Those poor souls who harbor
    the illusion of indemnity
through faith in a
        purportedly magical Jew
truly are the blessed few

not via the Lord's redemption, mind you,
but by the thoughtlessness of their devotion.

Perhaps the two are tantamount to one another.


The ****** are so labeled
     because we question ceaselessly--
curiosity is no comfort.


Should the sun burn black,
     the world will go cold
or
      some star-burst might
   scorch our galaxy clean
of all delusions of eternity.


The meek can inherit the ashes.

Like a treacherous jungle, the world shaped its self to resemble the untamable, unforgiveable, and unimaginable creature that pounced on every crest of supple, innocent victim’s souls only to be dragged miles through painful, elongated trenches, and then expended in its entirety to recommence restructure in all new patterns of mutilated destructed forms; completely rearranged and in search for the light to guide culpable souls into worthy positions with better conditions and purer intentions.

From the inception, slithering wildly the legendarily discreet elapid serpent anticipated the fierce panthera. What was thought as a tyro odyssey, was underrated, uncreated, and translated to total transformative, love abated, accommodative, grief impregnated, planes alternated, affirmative gamboling games.

As a barbarous being, all and every cutthroat, bloated, anecdote of overdrawn, theatric fervor entered this imprudent, illuminated, and aggregated thing to fill unanswerable questions and unexplainable connections by intersecting other frantic, energetic, idiosyncratic reoccurring addicts with realms of disintegrated, hardheaded, nerve racked dreams.

The exterior scaled, degenerated able soul entangled and sacrificed minded controlled logic against the mystic, enigmatic, acidic beast. Pushing forward in the battle of cosmic evolution, a mistake making, empathic fool, inflicted from predicated illusions of heart wrenching, exploding, brooding agape for aspired end resulted, expanded frontiers.

What the scrawny, deluded fool missed were the all purposeful and most numerable senses that embrace every now where infinity spirals out related creation in the ever expandable universe that all the scavengers, hoarders, trackers, hunters, carnivores, herbivores, and the water possessed serpent misuse every now and now and now and now and again to address the real issues that are eschewed, abused, and viewed as insignificant tools that could never resolve unbearable fights within things, beings, or feelings of desertedness.

Miscommunication is everywhere and nowhere. Uncontrollable senses are everything and nothing. A constant fight within and without means nothing. Nerves we suppress and addictions we abuse. All to fill a space that exists at uncontrollable rates and lighting speeds. What is strategic logic without perceived cognizance? This is constant tumultuous idleness, sacrificed thoughtlessness, crude awareness, and unmanageable apprehension only exploited to rationalize a beast with labels, feeble doubts, to dwindle realities, and to fuel the unpeaceful balance.

The brute, that the restless, powerless, and distrustless serpent inhabited welcomes the transformative living immortal beings into the now of the hare who weakens the logic to lessened and opened tempos of the lines, spaces, and levels of the all and great smash of vast, immense potentiality of authenticity.

There's a pretentious air
In the way you presume I care.
How could it possibly be fair
To treat brother like mare?

To pass on your obligation
Is to inspire my frustration.
The thoughtlessness and abdication
Resumes hateful thoughts of vindication.

One asks not for reparation
Or from friendship a vacation.
Just a token of creation
Of an equal-footed communication.

I won't hold grudges, or hate
But you've been tense as of late.
You've been jumping my words to conflate
The words for your anger I use to negate.

Could you just chill out?
Nobody is out to get you.
It's hard to be a friend
When even enemies get more respect too.

Little One,
Oh Little One,
How sad you seemed to be.
You ****** and moaned your grievances,
Not knowing you were free.

The world seemed so big.
When you seemed small,
The problems that you’d seek,
Today I yarn to reminisce,
How much you’d hate to be me.

Little one,
What caused you such delusions,
What caused you so much pain?
Your life was like a fairytale,
No losses and no gain.  

Come take a gander,
In my world,
See how you’d toss and turn.
Your thoughtlessness and gravity,
Would tumble, crash and burn.

Little one,
Oh little one,
The problems that you find,
Are darling little memories,
In a world as ****** up as mine.

sometimes i wonder
if i've ever crossed your mind,

maybe i'm only a quick thought,

maybe you might think my hair looks pretty, or that my eyes turn green in the light,

maybe it's just a fleeting glance,
so quick it makes you dizzy,

maybe i'm just a "I think I've seen her before"

or "she was in that class I had"

or maybe you've spent hours wondering what my favorite movie was or what it would feel like to hold my hand,

And maybe,
maybe you've never
thought about me at all

From a distance you are beautiful
close proximity highlights your supposed refinement
then you open your mouth...

A whirlwind of immaturity and thoughtlessness
barrages me.

Why don't you have friends?
Well talking a million miles out of your *** doesn't help.

I'm exhausted by the end- worn out- done.

You close your mouth and I forget,
I'm ****** in like a male fly to a shiny-female light.
Only your words are a much more effective fly zapper than electric lamps
and I’ll soon learn.

Oh you,
And your certainty that you are harmless.
Make no mistake,
I do adore you.
I admire your selfishness, darling-
No, I really mean it.
It is the child in you.
The "It brings me pleasure, why should I not have it?"
You have so recently discovered anew that you believe you deserve to be happy,
I see its evidence strewn across your life
Like the aftermath of an explosion.
It has no malice, this craving to do
Whatever you want.
Sometimes you make excuses for it,
But I need them not.
You are
How you are.
It's not for me to say you shouldn't chase whatever you fancy,
And indeed, as I said, I admire it.

It has an innocence to it, a thoughtlessness that brings to mind
A little girl in a field of wildflowers,
Picking one after the other,
Because she must have the next one she sees,
Only to drop it, forgotten, when a new one catches her eye.
There is such a freedom to it-
Each new bloom is her favorite ever.

You may have a deep soul,
But you are not old, and I love that in you.
Something in your heart hasn't been worn yet, by time.
Although you have suffered, you have not been...
Eroded. Aged. Wrinkled. Wrung out.
Your colors,
Though gory at times,
Have not been sun or dust faded.
You are new and raw,
And I see it always in your face, in your eyes, in your carelessness.

Me, I play at youth:
I look the part.
But beneath I am weary and the luster of my soul has dulled a bit.
If your broken soul is shards,
Mine is beach glass,
Tossed so many times by the waves that its pieces are smooth and no longer draw blood
But shall never again fit into the jagged edges of each other.

Sometimes I wonder
At how you can treasure every heart you touch with such sensitivity
And somehow still see them all as merely things.
Sometimes-
And don't think it doesn't bring me shame-

I see in my mind a child of six or seven,
With all her favorite, loved dolls set at the miniature tea table,
Feeding them imaginary food and loving them
To death.
Her love is real, you see.
But so is her sudden amnesia
When all of a sudden Mommy calls from downstairs with a new surprise from the shop
And she is gone in a whirlwind of fairy wings and laughter and bare feet
And the dolls lay splayed on the carpet
Like death.

Don't misunderstand me, it brings to my heart the same fondness
But also the same ache, that not everyone can afford to be so.

I wish I had a child in me, like yours.
So free, so untroubled, so buoyant.
I wish I could say, "It brings me pleasure, why should I not have it?"
And not know the answer.
But you see,

When I was barely five, I was playing in the garden with my friend,
And we found this lovely Monarch butterfly,
All shimmering colors and feathery lightness,
And I reached a hand out ever so softly
But stopped just shy of the exquisite wings,
Held back by an instinct I have always had
About fragile things.
She had no such instinct, though,
And as I withdrew my fingers,
She reached to grab the little creature
So that she could touch the pretty colors
That shimmered in the light
And crushed it dead.
Her shock was a mystery to me,
But my grief wasn't.
I have never been afforded the luxury of carelessness-
I see too far, I have always seen

Too far.

And so I never even strewn my toys across the floor
When I left them.
No, I said goodbye to each, promised I'd be back later, and sat them on their shelves.
It is my way. I am so very careful.

But oh you,
You and the child in your heart
Who has a new favorite color,
Every day-
The best favorite
You have ever had.
And oh me,
Who, as a child,
Refused to pick them at all
So as not to grieve
The others.

The threshold, a kink in the continuum. A static line, 7" thick. An inch a mile, a million high-ways through low-days. Between freezing underpasses, mirrored in ice. Stray dogs passing, paying no mind, for there is none. Dying mice; too white for the whiteness.

Give me a road and I'll follow
across our fallow fields.
At either end, a somewhere an anywhere;
yielding, if anything, a brief love of the vastness of our expanses.
In such terms, humans and roads
are inseparable.

Give me legs and itchy feet, and I will carry this filthy deed.
"To go," for nothing
but the words alone
Like a redneck with his whiskey and his 12-gauge
we rage
full on.

Give me recklessness, give me godlessness, give me symbolitude & contemplacency. Give me thoughtlessness, or better yet, leave me with instinct, and I will carry the rifle for the enigma-insignia
of the Great Nation of Motion.

And I endure
to procure
myself
in two places
at once.

The Lost Letter of Love-

The thunder of the busy street makes love to the vicious voices that plague my mind. Reminisce of a forgotten love still shower my inner most thoughts. Passion that once overwhelmed my life is now my reason for exhaust. The shimmers that once lit my ambition and drive now hang lightless, darker than the deepest secret. Yet the frequency of lost desire still induces the most intoxicating substance. Arms grow weary caressing forgotten times, the tears that once grew a river, are now dry beds of torment. The beautiful dawn plays in coalition with the residuals of a distant song. “Goodbye my lover” plays in harmony with the neglect of reality. Not facing demons yet displaying affection to them. Indulging in virtues once restricted by political propaganda. I am her vicious vendetta, her thoughtlessness, her absence. I lay on a bed of needles enjoying the aguish, suffering in satisfaction. The destructive thought of deserving such a decisive decision allows my mind to become a rag of lost emotion, wiping tears from the concaved steps that once bread a whirlwind of radical love. A canvas stained recklessness paints a picture of a destined solitude. No regret orchestrates a symphony of percussions, streaming beautiful sound through the hills of total regret. Awake becomes second nature, slumber slumbers with the lack of motivation to ignite the calm. Insomnia hums in a melody so righteous that the religion becomes the man. A hollow shell of broken ambition sway in the wind of self desire. The cries of the night become intoned with the cries of truth.  Instinct maps the course of self-withered illusion, illuminating the “why us” cause. A foundation of happiness holds the weight of a pessimistic engagement. While optimistic scavengers prey on the depths of endless souls. Disappointment rectifies all signatures of a so-called love. Remembering a once forgotten future claims its stakes as the eternal right. The moon holds desperate for the fortune of the unfortunate son. Unsettled disputes, take a toll on broken bodies. Broken wills dance in the limelight ignoring the forgotten pain, a laugh of retribution becomes one with inexplicit content. While saying “I love you” becomes that of explicit context, searching for the meaning between the lines. The lost letter of love shapes like the clouds in the sky only resembling something it never can be.

RICHARD ITSKOVICH

Know that I hate you all
With not even one to spare
I'm sick of your masks
Your dreams, your dares.

I'm tired of you whining
To me all the time
Go find yourself a wall
And give me peace to rhyme.

Take with you
Your pitiful minds
Please, leave me alone
I'm trying to be kind.

This world does no favours
To the undeserving
You might as well flee
While there's still a clearing.

I can't comprehend
Your random bitterness
I don't want to know
About your thoughtlessness.

It takes a lifetime to earn respect
You threw it all away
When you sacrificed it all
For a passing fancy that day.

You're trapped in a dimension
Filled with your own tears
Engulfed by your own misery
Fearing your own fears.

So now you have nothing left
To give or take
Now you have nothing left
To show or fake.

So head on to your grave
And the world will be happier
Head on away from me
I should have said this earlier.

Sam S.

If you are alone
you belong entirely to yourself.
If you are accompanied
by even one companion
you belong only half to yourself
or even less in proportion
to the thoughtlessness of his conduct
and if you have more than one companion
you will fall more deeply into the same plight.

One morning I felt a thought
moving ahead of where I could see
collecting energy from my heart
it became so particular about me

that it fought its way over the sticks and stones
which fell into broken pieces wherever it went
I wondered what it held with single mindedness
so purposefully to make it struggle to the front

I followed where it led
it would not wait for me
it knew more than my mind could
it knew about where I wanted to go

but when I called it gave no answer
I couldn't stop it
I couldn't hold it back while I dithered
on and on it went

on a path I could only wonder
as though it had destiny all worked out

a sweet song called from deep in the forest
so joyful a bird it broke my heart in two
and part of me ran to find its nest
but it needed no path as I should have known
and after a rest
off it flew

I retraced my steps back to the forked place
at that moment the thought was gone
though I found a piece of black lace
caught on a thorn

it dissolved in my hand when I held it up to the light
leaving powdery graphite on my finger tips
which had the forgotten taste of sea spray at night
when the tip of my tongue touched it

I heard the whisper of kisses from long ago
and then I looked down in silence
alone and lost - too late I knew
abandoned to my thoughtlessness