Unvoid

Dogs sleep 
like old mens' hands feel,
somewhere on the brink
between life and death,
somewhere in the void. 

Unvoid...
where ghost framed 
silken images hang
like treasures to be worshiped.
Where antenna ears
filter beats from the now.
That ageless wonder,
that ever-existent instant that is now 

Cold black noses
tether teeth and lips,
and yet
the beast is not here,
not in skin or bone.
But again she breathes so softly -
gallivanting in that mind malleable realm,
the place where we've met
time and time again.
Sharing soft sweet kisses
painted with the sun.

Eyelids closed be beam inward,
where emotions speak images.
That ageless wonder,
that sweet dream taste.
   
 
    

Possession

A gleaming drop,

a Sapphire ruby squeezed
from my knuckle.
A moment in time,
a single red dot.

This word "my":
my knuckle,
my house,
my property,
my blood....
hmmm,
really?

Not so sure;
really.

Aren't we just borrowing?
Tirelessly borrowing.

I hold this three-foot square,
my shadow a bit more,
but I will move,
eventually I will be gone.

Maybe not gone
in the sense of "nevermore",
but certainly gone
from this spot, 
and then from this shape.

Even now I am fleeing myself,
leaving that self of a moment ago
for this self here and now.

And so now,
a day later,
the Sapphire ruby is gone,
and so too
the crystal pain
that marked that moment.

I don't think we are that different.
We seek to possess,
to hold onto something,
if not many things
then at least a few,
and how futile it is.
And we know this,
yet we struggle to surrender.

I know this is nothing new.
I'm not more enlightened
for having written it,
nor will you be so
from having read it.
But I am compelled,
so I write,
and if you are still reading,
compelled you are as well.

So there's that.