The Absence of Wavelength

About Me Now, Not Whatshername

I wash out on evening tides.

I don’t think of her anymore…not even now.

I missed many hours hiding, in too many nights.

Lost are dreams that entertain dark, in quiet slumber.

Tired of all drama for her, the body yields.

Pillow, sheets and comforter…now ever ready.

I’m sinking
deep within the kingly confines.

Troubled limbs
find no rumblings, heart to head.

Hands of time melt gentle
behind heavy, wall shadows.

The eyes, these eyes
see nothing in space, simple in solitude.

I wash out on evening tides.

Tomorrow, all tomorrows,
arrive to new songs of my own drama…

A new era arrives, and why so important?
I don’t think of her.

I’m, I’m…


29 lines, free’d verse
11.22.24 12.9.24 12.13.24

Falling asleep on my keyboard, dreams
cast in shadows unlit by the switchboard.



I hear Trudy’s theme when I reread.

She’s not dead.
I only say,
you can’t kill what’s already dead.
I watch fury plunge the honed edge into my chest again,
and again. Glad
I’m something for someone
who can emote feelings I can’t understand.

Post my meandering, every midnight I recall…

12.9.24  12.13.24 (Link 2 YouTube, plus all following remarks in poem(s)’ bright light, so you’ll inspect ~ )


Dessert

Have what’s left of my heart,
since no one has use of it.

Echoes addendum:saudade

I had a lover once
and again, and again —
but, it wasn’t love.
I can see that now.

It didn’t feel like work
before realization
I’m harnessed to our plow.
You, long gone,
many, many seasons now.

What is it
you subside on?
My hand for you
as I drown in these sands.

———
My last song for…who?