Time's Too Short, The Hollow Man

High and low. Why not, I ask, make poetry out of the lowbrow stuff too? My emotional life is all over the map, from resentment to the highest forms of love. I discovered long ago that many paradoxical things live in me. You would think the one precludes the other, but not so. Time separates them and in that way emotions coexist in me. I often can't do more than one thing at a time, but then this is not always true.

I have noticed every time someone dies, the critters in my life, and the people, I often have many emotions at the same time as the grief. It was really amazing, and I would hope for all of you that you get the chance to experience heart breaking grief and fierce joy at the same time as I once did, back in 1983. What a remarkable few minutes that was. It didn't last long, but it was certainly God given.

So if I am this complex, why should my poetry only be lofty??

Time's Too Short

Damn. Gone too quickly.
I've tripped, stumbled against you.
I tries too hard, Sir.

I gets ahead of myself.
I'm in the hurrier mood.

Won't promise better.
I'm too late, don't really care.
I've run out of time.

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And of course, as a believer in fantasy, I also can write stories, as I have posted before - truths that are not facts, or perhaps truths that are more than facts. I don't feel like a hollow man these days. Believe me, I have been places.

The Hollow Man

I am hollow rock,
Emptiness in density
And afraid of blows.
I fear shattering my shell
And leaking into thin air.
If I walk near cliffs
I will fall, I know this, yes.
Please just fill me in.