Clayton Medeiros's Shared Poems

We hold love’s currency
In a shared account
No bank
No banker
No gold standard
No sovereign
No stocks
No bonds
Sole proprietors

Hung out to dry, the wash
Flutters indifferently in the blue sky
That holds the airplane’s slow descent.
Engine sounds dissipate like its purpose.
Time, impatient to end the day,
Ravenous for anonymous night.

Excessive sanctimony
Frays despairing patience
With political shenanigans
Every misleading speech
Abounds in rationalizations
With greed a social good
Ill gotten treasure twists
Among the forever unfulfilled
Where endless paranoia
Like Anthony’s ironic furor
Over gifts rendered to Caesar
But murder turns on itself

Although my truths could be lies
Because I don’t know any
Better than what I say right now,
The star bright night holds greater truth
Than any words I can muster, but
I would never mislead you as to
Anything in this or any other world.

Constantly confused, the eye sees
Borders between dreams and waking,
Past and present boundaries
Impinge one on another
In the dim light of refined memory.

In the dim light of refined memory,
We know an inaccessible reality
As tactile and factual as our today,
Forever glimpsed, but never seen,
A crossing point among probabilities.

A crossing point among probabilities,
Immanent and ephemeral beings,
We become “the place where
Creation is working itself out,”
Participants commissioned in time.

Participants commissioned in time,
A dissipated past, a pregnant future,
In a city’s newborn block’s buildings,
The sun crowds through windows,
No one stands ready to see the light.