Reflection replete

I took a picture of our house today
in the hub cap of a car
parked across the street because
it looked spectacular
The car, the house, reflection
I’m talking ’bout all three
and something in particular
there which fascinated me

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A Quantum Physics Poem 1.1

2020 seems like an Alternate Reality.

This is not an explanation,
Only my simple observation.

Life is like…

Life is like a flower of blue
with fragrance of the sun
Mysterious yet loveable
for me and everyone

Life is like a sky of blue
with clouds all fleecy white
Overwhelming yet with comfort
soothing everything in sight

Life is like a sea of blue
with waves of movement there
Boundless and yet welcoming
with love and care to share

Leprechaun

The day started with little laze,

wondering if it’s the same roof under

which I started giggling.

I was lost in something gazing at the trees

visible through my window.

The place

The place falls

The place calls

The place reminiscing

The ones with horns

The ones with holes

In the journey

Of the time.

 

The place sucks

The place chucks

The place twinning

With the ray of hopes

In the lost memories

Of the unheard notes.

Newness

The skyscrapers

In a black city

Attracting the throng

To surrender the things

When the sense

Of newness wears off.

 

Build an attempt

So high

With an aim so tight

To render love

In a warm and vivid

Colors of shine.

Engulfed

 

 

Engulfed at the seashores,

wondering if I should go

back or wait

till the dawn.

What and Why!

“What I write

why I write

for what I write,

have to read

between the lines,” said the note book.

 

“Are you guilty

of what you did

why you feel,

have to understand

the reasons behind,” said the pen.

Maturity

Maturity is intense

To release the tensed

Coming with drawbacks

In a dose of love.

 

He said, “Maturity is key

to end the unwanted shouts,

trying to be real

along with the reflection

in the eyes.”

Lost and Found

I am in search of something unknown,
Just beyond my grasp of comprehension.
I stand at the temple doors of Self,
Sealed shut by monks of Sophistry
To conceal their esoteric knowledge and rites,
Of which I desperately long to understand.

Observation and Implementation!

Observing the sky

In the moonlight

Observing the sea

In the sunlight

Observing the mountains

In the sunshine.

 

Descending

As a youth,
I knew not of crowded city streets,
the smells of compacted people,
all their schedules and goals and jostling.

I loved the woods,
and the lake waters, and the snow.
The many greens of Midsummer:
faded teal, fatty yellow, dark forest, zingy lime;
wreaths of chlorophylls dewed and shiny.

While Alive

When we fall down, when we land, when we lay
upon the bedrock, do we look up? Or do we close
our eyes, and make do, roll the dirt around us,
invite the insects to have discussion, play with god;

Glory

And we stand upon this globe
Asking of the Universe
What?

The other nations of this Earth

The other nations of this Earth live along side us
Misunderstood, undervalued, used and abused
So many of us not longer see them
We fortunate few may wilfully misunderstand

The Lonely Stair

At its height aloneness is the pale star.

So far, and distant, when the light at last reaches our eye
it is one hundred years gone.

I act accordingly,
(my god is an outlier god)
when all are in rise,
I must fall, when all are out walking, I must be sitting,
when all are descending, I must ascend, for when the powers tied
the strings, I was not to be found at my station along the line.

Eyes and ears, m’dear

Hear the things,

they speak with their eyes

Words are a lair’s arsenal,

look just how lightly they step

around promises, and juggle emotions

Look within you for your truths,

see what injustice strikes you like a fist,

understand what you stand for.

The outside, of many things, is a facade

the innards, soul and belief belie this

Flesh and bone, masks and smiles

housing within a starlight light,

or void blackness

The Wheel

Inside this cir – cle, ten billion hands are pushing,
wheeling us around the universe,
searching for the light.

We have the torches, but the stars
we are not yet alighting, our agency stunted
by the promises of a silent creator.

From my window, I am watching the spectacle;
it is a ring of fire, plowing over the land,
a racing bright wind, burning and eating.

Being English….

Show no emotion, hold everything back
Say  ’I think we need a bit of support’ when you are under fatal attack

Dunes

The sunlight smacks off skyscrapers, the chests
of engines heave and gasp; chemical sweat
drips from every brow, as we wilt and bend
beneath the smothering heat of Monday.

How Can We Get To Sleep Each Roaring Night?

What is the What?
Who is the Who?
When is the When?
Where will I lay my head and rest?

How is a misnomer
Each time I crack an egg,
Each time I fry its yoke,
Its slither down my throat,
My turn in the game of consumption
And conquest.

Spin

spin

     we do

and

     we do

and

     we do

After a Wave Had Crashed

And the green leaves

Dripped

And cascaded down

Like a picturesque

Waterfall of

Playful emotion;

Circle

Heavens crowd me, preachers press on, gurus
Take me outside and lay me in grass to feed me
(They all lay claim to me),
Hastened as monarchs in their migration
For the sweet milkweed.

Deliberations at my Window

Little things
Hold together, dear atoms cling to form matter,
To form

This hair of mine,
These hands,
This breast,
This heart,
This mind.

Several mountains I have climbed and have never fallen,
Yet stumbled I have on a lone, poorly placed pebble.

The Green and Blue

There is the smell
Of moss and green. A color
Like a thief. Stealing land, smothering
Hillsides and the trees. This
Essence, the Qi, of the
Leaf and blade, settles here
(On my breast) and cracks me open
To lift my heart.

The Owl

The dark hollow
of the silent night
Blew into fires of fiery red
Glowing her tucked wings
In molten fear

No Doubt

No Doubt

Whether the cup is half full or half empty

Of this I have no doubt,

It depends whether I’m pouring something in

Or drinking something out.

With Love,

Russ

(C) Copyright 2016 Russ Towne

All Rights Reserved