deserts of a soul

night in the desert
is a black loneliness
without a top surface
through which to spirit
to heaven’s amber promise
and without sides, endless
tho with a tenuous bottom
and for which
there is no apt metaphor
tho, this desert is– us
speeding across the Sonoran
tall cacti, loosely huddled in threes
lurch over dim headlights’ glow
blurred-shadow reapers at the roadside
standing with furrowed brow
over my crimes
wishing vengeance
if only– they might move
and I thought to myself
the thought, itself
louder than a brick-city’s screams
that maybe they did move, slowly
crawling behind me
in the bleary darkness
aye, I knew– even then
a man can’t outrun his regrets
eventually, we all slow, or stop
and whatsoever we’ve got coming to us
finally catches us
by the spine
and the Sonoran
melts into the Mojave
and the blood-sun rising
sets ancient stoic-stone walls aglow
hope’s wavy apparition
falling under roaring tires
roadkill, frying
on hot asphalt
as the days
come and go
and
come and go
and
come
and
go


I drove across country when I was younger, tho I wrote no poems at the time; the poems were all around me.

21 Replies to “deserts of a soul”

  1. I grew up in the desert. I like how you described the landscape and the metaphor to life.
    I feel like I haven’t seen you in a while. I hope you’re well.

    Like

    1. Hi Vic, part busy, and part insane. I’m sorry I haven’t been around as much. I owe that journey some more poems. Where in the desert? <– like a jersey boy would know the difference 😉

      Liked by 1 person

        1. I’ve been there a few times, one was during that trip. It’s a good place for writers, tho so is near water, or mountains, or cities.. Hell, thinking on it now, I have a lot of poems to write.

          Liked by 1 person

            1. I’ll check your page to see what you’ve written, wherever you might be writing it 😉 Still to this day, I prefer driving vacations to flying. I want to see the people and the scenery, the tall cities and the fallen churches. Anyway, I hope you’ve been well. Thank you for the smile tonight 🙂

              Liked by 1 person

              1. Now I write from the opposite side of the country. 🙂 I prefer driving too. I drove the east coast last year and stopped in DC and SC before hitting Florida. It was awesome for me but my kids were less thrilled, lol.
                I actually had the flu!! Darn kids. But I’m better now. Thank YOu for the smile. I like when you post. 🙂

                Liked by 1 person

                1. Lol. I drove my son down to Florida last year. He did okay with it, though seeing different things than I did. I hope he develops a similar appreciation. As a species, we’ve become impatient. And you’re welcome. I’m glad you smiled 🙂

                  Liked by 1 person

                  1. My boys were like, why can’t we go into the White House? Why does everyone want to see this big statue sitting down? But they had fun. My oldest is 11- yours too, right?
                    You’re so right. We have become impatient. Everything is instant now. It’s nice to slow down.

                    Liked by 1 person

                    1. Yes, he’s 11 now. And yes, we’ve become impatient not just with the pace of things, but with people. That’s a damned shame. Some say our history is cycles repeating. Maybe we’ll come back around to a slower, kinder time 😉

                      Liked by 1 person

                    2. That would be nice. I think technology helps people to become removed with each other so that they forget what real interaction is like. It’s so easy to be a jerk behind a screen. But then again, it lets us interact like this so its not all bad. ? but we existed before instant messaging so maybe we know how to be human behind a screen. Am I rambling? Lol. ?

                      Liked by 1 person

    1. It’s all around us 😉 I owe many poems, for those moments and people that brushed against me today. There isn’t time to write them all, but how do we choose? Some will be remembered, some forgotten, and some misconstrued. Still, we write.

      Liked by 1 person

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

w

Connecting to %s