(“The apostles left and went from village to village,
telling the good news and healing people everywhere.” Luke 9:6)
There is a mass of
loneliness nearer may heart than
any other definition or silent wanderer; just like the furthest planet
in a solar system of dustless ions. A planet
because the loneliness is not empty; it is tangible;
a hardwood enlargement of lead-weight emotion
with gravity so strong that nothing stays long but
is boomeranged into its own orbit across the outskirts
where longing and time rarely cross.
any other definition or silent wanderer; just like the furthest planet
in a solar system of dustless ions. A planet
because the loneliness is not empty; it is tangible;
a hardwood enlargement of lead-weight emotion
with gravity so strong that nothing stays long but
is boomeranged into its own orbit across the outskirts
where longing and time rarely cross.
It is what I write about
because it is wound about my being;
and so many ask when the flowers will appear in my poetry,
the hearts and forests, the hope and choruses of love.
and so many ask when the flowers will appear in my poetry,
the hearts and forests, the hope and choruses of love.
And usually, once someone
has noticed the sadness in
each letter on the page,
I force the petal of a rose between the stanzas. Yet it
wilts between the writing and the reader. I was made this way,
because that space, so heavy and so empty, has always been the
first phrase of the next thing I thought or wanted.
each letter on the page,
I force the petal of a rose between the stanzas. Yet it
wilts between the writing and the reader. I was made this way,
because that space, so heavy and so empty, has always been the
first phrase of the next thing I thought or wanted.
And yet, I’ve been asked
by the One Friend,
in some way, with some convincing tone,
to lay the good news down like the hook; “The next sound
you will hear is a mighty chord of 9 grand pianos finishing the song.”
in some way, with some convincing tone,
to lay the good news down like the hook; “The next sound
you will hear is a mighty chord of 9 grand pianos finishing the song.”
I’ve been told He fills
me, but my gut feels empty,
save for the solid mass of longing where the loneliness has
made its home.
save for the solid mass of longing where the loneliness has
made its home.
I once thought there
would be a friend, maybe two; and
I watched Joan Baez celebrate her 75th birthday with friend
after friend after friend, sing their duets with her. I thought there
might be a duet started early that stayed for the last encore.
I watched Joan Baez celebrate her 75th birthday with friend
after friend after friend, sing their duets with her. I thought there
might be a duet started early that stayed for the last encore.
But the ones I wanted
near the end, half have turned their backs,
moved down another road too difficult to navigate now. So I plow
down the path the same way I began, almost convinced that friendship
is not worth the time I took to get it from beginning to banned.
down the path the same way I began, almost convinced that friendship
is not worth the time I took to get it from beginning to banned.
The weight stays nearer
my heart than any can imagine. Lonely.
It’s true, I’m a forgiven man, and a healed one, too. But time has
robbed me of the hugs
It’s true, I’m a forgiven man, and a healed one, too. But time has
robbed me of the hugs
While space has
subtracted.
Come near, please, only
if you know there stands a weight between
your good intentions
and my lonesome heart.
your good intentions
and my lonesome heart.
