Submitted by joshua mertz on March 20, 2013
Don’t want to be clumsy
Or meaningless or unbalanced
Not a negative
Graceful, not inept
Absurd, not inane
Progressive, not off-kilter
Not defined by what is not
insane, insecure, indigestible
Become intimate, intense,
Inclusive, internal
And intelligent
Submitted by joshua mertz on March 20, 2013
If the boulder ends up as sand
Why not start with sand?
Going through all the laws
Of thermodynamics, inertia,
Dissipation, erosion
On our way to sand
There is no why
Why is the insanity of our species
Beating ourselves with the scourge
Of assuming reason
While the rain beats on the roof
Knowing it will win
Submitted by joshua mertz on March 19, 2013
I know how these stories end
All of them
The inciting incident is usually best
Some parts of the rising conflict
The second act is always too long
And then the inevitability of the third
Which leads to the end
A car chase, a wedding
A drawn-out fist fight or gun battle
A dog come home, a final showdown,
A family re-united
Then hugs and tears and kisses
And finality
I know how these stories end
They end with silence
Submitted by joshua mertz on March 7, 2013
Every day lasts forever
A lesson learned at age seven
Those summer days
Hot, dusty, running as fast as I could
Mom, cheese sandwiches
Working with Dad in a scampering way
Because we had forever
And toys and shouting from the treetops and all our friends
Real and imagined
The long treehouse, bicycling, laying about reading day
Riding the slow arc of the sun
Into the cool night, still running, skin chill with delight
And dinner and television and bed
The gliding down into sleep, languid, lazy, forever,
The sadness is that
It is true on all scales
This day, this year, this minute, this second, this life
A long summer’s day of eternity
That is why we mourn death
It is the end of forever
Submitted by joshua mertz on March 3, 2013
The way is over deeded land
The act is quiet
Boots, walking stick
A meadow, a gravel road
A path slanting into the woods
Dark, wild, familiar
I have been here before
This is supposed to do something to me
But what?
Make the problems go away?
Turn back the tide of time?
Restore innocence?
The path is not long
The woods chaotic and still
Until the path falls into the river
Five hues darker than the sky
The water clear and opaque simultaneously
Fluid patterns fleeting as thoughts
And I see why I have come
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