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I could do without
podcasts and reels
they have stolen seconds
& many conversations
leaving my heart half empty.
I miss us before the algorithm knew you better than me
before the internet became
a living thing
breathing down our necks.
You always know all the stories before I can share them.
Always in two places at once
one foot in the cloud
the other tethered to my heart
like a forgotten balloon that somehow still has air
still holding onto
the last breath of us
Humanity’s Last Stand
This is not an ideological endorsement or political speech, but just a simple wake up call to the immeasurable value of humanity that we must raise above wars, assassin’s bullets, morose tragedies and other perils.
Nobody wins in any type of war.
The collateral damage cuts through bone, touching
the soul.
Perhaps the political climate is inherently engineered to pit person against person, when partisan ideology is worshipped more than both God and loving our neighbor as ourself.
I don’t believe we should be blind to ongoing corruption and injustice that can straddle both parties, but we must divorce internal upset from hate, and utilize our humanity with composure.
For what it’s worth.
Complaint Box
This constant state to recreate
Dominates the majority
Of the human race.
But perhaps this is the way,
This constant striving, trying, reaching...
To just be,
That is the blissful way, yes,
And it holds sometimes, for a bit.
In my pangs of want,
I'll think, maybe I could do it better.
Make me better.
But I like surprises.
And I'm waiting to see
What I'll become.
Observance
I can’t stop my mind, and I just think of how
It seems like I will never have a friend.
I sound like a little child when I say this, self-absorbed,
Really, I just wish I had someone to read with,
To talk about things with – things that the world no longer seems to talk about
Great novels
Strange poems
Beautiful poems
And
The curiousness of the bad that people are so successful with
As their way of life
And how this way of life is
Supported
Cherished
Protected
How one has to think completely outside of everything to even imagine an existence
Without somehow being permeated by this bad.
And the beauty,
That I realize now, I will never get to see
And the beauty,
That is cut down, burned down, slaughtered, disregarded
Disrespected
Gassed
This beauty I will never get to see
As I live in this Texas desert
Working six days a week,
Just enough to pay for the little old house in which I live
On the edge of town
Just enough to pay plenty of taxes
To pave more ways
For more destruction
I do see the destruction
I can't believe it
And here I am,
With no one
To see me if I have a feeling
With no one to read a poem with.
CK Munsell © 07.05.2024 All Rights Reserved
Finished Canvas
Maybe when you find someone else to fall in your arms
my heart will sink, a stone in a bottomless sea.
I know you'll be happy with anyone else but me.
Because I was never your missing piece
just played a part of the brushstrokes hand
like a violin that created our children beautifully.
Each Day’s Gesture Ajar
I slept with the door open last night,
ajar,
By accident.
Anyone could have come in
and
killed me –
I thought,
oh.
Not: Oh no!
Just
– oh.
Because what does it matter, really.
It isn’t how I want to go, of course.
But, when I think of it on a deeper level
Every day is just me trying again.
And every day is the same isolation.
The same disappointments.
The same invisibility.
I locked the door this morning after finding it had been open all night.
I stood beside the door this morning for a long time,
I drank my coffee.
It was quiet. I was reflective.
I thought of how I have tried to remake my life
Into something meaningful.
CK Munsell © 06.18.2024