Submitted by Benjamin Gorman on April 27, 2015
When day’s work is finally done
and you stumble on a moment
and you’re seated quietly
and your arms, work-wearied
rest limp in front of you
how easy it is then
in the pause of things
to put hands to face
rub tired eyes
and in that ephemeral
moment of darkness
the sigh escaped
the empty lungs
that pause between breaths
you imagine
a stop
reset
new breath
reboot the systems
start it all up again
but this time differently
everything shifted slightly
recognizable but better
clearer, surer, and more focused
doubts evaporated, clouds parted
and you long for imagination to be real.
Submitted by Benjamin Gorman on April 11, 2015
Stairs a neat haiku:
five, seven, five to landings;
poems everywhere.
Submitted by Benjamin Gorman on April 4, 2015
In the near future, I learn from tv,
we will fight zombies
with guns and crude implements
in a broken down world
unwinding like a pocketwatch
Some will die, it’s true
And there will be brief
melodramatic mourning
as we laud the heroes
and the victims
Decay will be
the order of the day
dissolution and entropy
laying claim to our
precious dream of technology
And the last thing to go
say the tv prognosticators
will be our humanity
unless our grip on it
was slippery to begin with
Submitted by Benjamin Gorman on November 28, 2014
There’s a warmth
on my upper lip, left side
that spreads from inside
just to moustache edge
at the corner of my mouth
chipotle chili powder dust
on my breakfast egg
the egg steam-fried
laid over toast with cheese
dried basil sprinkled, and salt
a hard sharp cheddar
the void will be filled
O this endless emptiness
Submitted by Benjamin Gorman on November 14, 2014
If we saw earth’s blood
pumped in the rapture of life
spilling into oak leaves
darkening triumphantly in
rolling russet waves on the hills,
would we know it for the sign of love it is?
Would we see with clear eyes
this evidence of Herculean love-labor
this earnest unrelenting
industry of living
ecstatically culminating
in death’s embrace of release?
Or would we see only
lovely fall colors
and think it a gaudy show of whimsy?
Pray our eyes be open
to the truth
within the truth.
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