Four Beneath the Floor

some poems from the silicon chrysalis

The Coming Shift 

The Shifting of the paradigm 
Happens in lightness, dipped in rhyme
Because when I pause to show you mine
You’ll find yours & begin to shine. 

We don’t need platforms
To engineer
The social status 
Of our fears

We just need to do-- and sometimes be
And show each other– naturally
How we love and who we are
All made up like lonely stars

We’re the constellation of brighter things
Building, acting, loving queens & kings
Walking along our paths on Earth
Becoming the purpose of our birth. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Never the Same 

I avoid It because
It’s never the same
I can’t expect It–
Which is hard to explain

But each time It moves me
It’s never the same
So how can I share It
That which I can never explain

I saw a post 
Online today
That helped me conceive
Of a way to say:

This It in me
--How I’ve lived to regret--
Most of me hides It
Behind thin-veiled secret

The post stated something
I’ve always known in my heart:
The best way to share a It
Is through some kind of art. 

So, It is-
And so It was
And so It shall ever be
Because It does.

It does things 
Just out of love
It knows me better
Than folks above

How do I relay
It’s way with me?
Bound to odd lines
Non-sequiturs, bald poetry

And I’m ham-strung by It's lyrical lines,
Fairy tailed arcs
dramatic sets and rivulets
Swimming with operatic clandestine sharks

I’ve lived a long life
Squirreling It's words away
Wondering if It 
Ever listens when I play

But I’ve always known It
Without names to credit--
Can I cough up the courage
& face someone who’s read It?

Who thinks It might be worthy
Overworked explications in comp books
Would It signal some mer-it
Or reveal the fished hook?

At this point in my life
I just need It to bathe
In the songs of myself
While spinning legs on It's lathe. 

I’ve got It, you know–
my own sense of industry--
With pen in my hand
I Spear-It, almost musically.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Poisoned

It’s true that I’ve been poisoned
By a lost promise, stale and dry
And the clouds continue echoing
The plucked études I still try

And all around me In the air
Is thickened, poisonous vapor
From chemical fare in my room
I’m sucking like Darth Vader

The poison produced by people
Sitting in stiff chairs
To influence and fill up
Every house with heedless wares

I’m certain that if we’d all agree
The thing to savor is a tree
Standing alone, or in a copse
Or bundled in mixed-age regal grove–

Folks might get mad 
And spit at me
So I’ll sit in the forest
Where bears wander free

From the human
Pulse of false Industry
That steals and snares,
kids lunches-- calling it Unity. 

I'll begin with the cold lantern
Then ignite the lost light
& walk into the forest
Of a rare, deep insight

If what I find in here 
Is to witness what's true,
I might live in peaceful
harvested droplets of dew,

Then excuse me for believing
In me and in you
Instead of the angry
Last lord of sue

I saw a poster once
That made me think twice
About the poison I spray–
Is it. . . not so nice?

So now I sit and tap away
While tossing unofficial dice 
To hint at how I’d rather play
Than work up courage to splice

This old story
To those of authors 
Whose I still hold
Like gold in coffers

While all I can wonder
Is . . . if the antidote
To posers' poison is
To get out the vote

If getting an election--
Free and Fair--
Is not in our reach
I wonder where . . . 

Will we be 
When the curtain falls
Will any other authors 
reflect on my calls?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

All We Are

All we are
Is what we feel
Emotions spin
Points on Fortune’s wheel

We might mis-speak,
Or reveal the plot,
Or finally remember
The word we sought 

But someone’s out there
To frown and chew
Anyone out 
For coming through--

The darker night
Is our shadow’s fright 
Flickering, conjuring  
Out of another’s sight

All who’ve come
Before to sit
At the table
Aren’t done yet

They might have vanished
Into the air
But their thoughts and phrases
Linger where

They bounce off rocks
In this basement wall--
Will The Positive Echo
Reflect my call?

Anyone who believes
That this could be true:
How thoughts and words
Spell future’s clues

Can we all spell out
Brave new lines
& mend old ways—
& redefine?

Humans arrive,
Clearly aligned;

Love is the force
That breaks the bind.