A dump truck in orbit.
This
Will need to be resolved.
Uncertainty as a system allows
Pockets of possibility.
This
Does not need to be resolved.
This must
Resemble a few lines
Of verse.
What else do we have?
~
Carrying my metaphysical
Shoes, over my enigmatic
Shoulders, happy as a guitar
String.
Everything matters: the trees,
The sky, this jalopy of a
Neighborhood.
Walking,
I chew up all my words.
I am almost afraid
How beautiful it is.
~
Going forward,
There will be lines and metaphors
(in these poems),
But no words.
Hence,
To write a poem is to regret.
If only I had the words to not have them.
~
The universe is being chased
By distance
naïve haircuts 
teasingly enigmatic: two lines i love: ‘happy as a guitar string’ and ‘jalopy of a neighborhood’; btw Bob, my previous post ‘Elephants’ was inspired by you; would have been less of a poem were it not for your influence 🙂
LikeLiked by 2 people
Thanks John. That is amazing to hear you say that. I’m very glad you think that of my poems. I’m touched. Thank you!
LikeLiked by 2 people
I thought you would have ducked over and had a look, Bob to see your influence —
LikeLike
Hi John. Sorry for the delay. I left you a comment on your page. I absolutely loved the poem!
LikeLiked by 1 person
thanks Bob; it means a lot; you pushed me in a new, exciting direction 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
This is phenomenal. The image of a dump truck in orbit seems somehow a perfect beginning.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks you! I was hoping that it would work. I guess I’m taking my surrealism into space. We’ll see where that leads….
LikeLiked by 1 person
I like to read each line several times. And feel the words swirl in my head. I like to imagine what you thought of with each word… like jalopy. Love that line. And the garbage truck. And the line about having the words to not need them. I heard a podcast interviewing a woman who had had a massive stroke and list all except about 40 (totally random) words. She said it was so peaceful. She didn’t have an internal voice anymore. I was amazed at this idea. Tranquility not frustration. And with the words went some memories. Like memories sometimes need to be labeled to exist. Fascinating.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you so much! I’m really happy you liked this poem. I just found out about some people who lack of an internal dialogue. Which seems odd, cause my internal dialogue never seems to stop. I also read about not having a mind’s eye, that is if you close you eyes you can’t visualize, say, an apple. Which I may have to some degree, because it’s really difficult for me to visualize something in my head.
LikeLiked by 1 person
She lost her words, she didn’t list them.
LikeLike
Everything matters: the trees,
The sky, this jalopy of a
Neighborhood.
Walking,
I chew up all my words.
I am almost afraid
How beautiful it is.
Loved these !!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks Warren! Good to hear from you again.
LikeLike
Why are the novels poorly written? Were they too resolved?
Why is writing a poem to regret? And yet why does that seem true?
Are the best words better left unsaid?
I don’t really want to know the answers. I just ❤️ the poem.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Haha! Great comment. Thank you Sunra! I’m glad you liked the poem.
LikeLiked by 1 person