poetinsavage

If one time I could feel complete confidence in my life, well then would I experience peace.

No. The ‘big beautiful bill’ did not win me over. Instead, with many inaccurate interpretations coming forward in the days ahead, it leaves me more nervous and confused.

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It’s when I breathe
everything occurs then,
the self doubt,
the paranoia,
a belief in otherwise.
I feel it everyday.
I think you can see it,
that’s always my worry.
Truth is though I’m told,
nobody really cares
when self doubt gets in the way of
being ourselves.
There are not enough hours in a day.

When while we wish
our lives feel safe,
from self aggrandizing
pain we all may contain.
Could one soul save
is from ourselves?
Indeed we are said to
live our lives in fear.
What if in the moment
we might forgive our
weakness and live free
of self persecution?
It is our own reliance
on peace. Yes!

It’s when one day removed,
recognize our frame of mind.
When everything just stopped,
seemed impossible to move.
Just optimism with integrity
began a new cycle of free.
Just when we’d lost all hope,
our lives found a new horizon.
It’s now I want to be myself
living inside a world of kindness

I want to sigh tonight,
only that, nothing poetic

After Midnight

Eyes will not close,
the demonic nature
of living surrounds his
psyche, its mystique in
full motion. So many avenues of thought to confuse this normalcy.
What you call staring
into the full moon
examines logic. Plays
on stage will recreate the stars with gallant fantasy.
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The sun was just setting
Our walk in the open field.
We had a little patch
in the sycamore
Where we’d find each other
Be romantic.
I found it empty that day
Minutes away her energy gone.
I looked down the field
Found her just walking into the park.
She waited alone.

I’ve walked in line
my whole life,
haven’t strayed,
caught countless occasion.
It stands out when I cry,
all my quiet fears.
I sometimes stand alone
beyond my moments of
isolation.
There seems a solution
I seem to ignore.
I want to know I can.
My vision catastrophic.
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Our current state of things
rather compelling, surely confusing.
I hear so many theories, pleas, and
have a hard time finding a conclusion.
We're in a state of freedom,
being scrutinized at every turn.
We want our world to be
inclusive, fond and robust.
Peace

Where did that come from
he thought without an answer.
As life carries on he would now
imagine a different outcome.
We have an ability
to recreate our world.
Sometimes it's rather easy,
and others only a chore.
It's when we're faced with
a life changing catharsis
we then begin to fly.
Do soar now

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She spoke to me outwardly,
and thought I would listen.
I did, the words did resonate.
At least the familiar ones,
when rejection is left behind
while sharing ideas, sharing
realities with a friend.
And then the opposition,
the sudden shock,
and life becomes sadly sullen.

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I walked out the door today,
a different take on the moment,
y'know those thoughts left behind.
I crawled into my car, put on my seatbelt,
turned on my favorite radio music and proceded
down the avenue.
I realized about halfway home
I was the same.

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I spoke to my psyche,
so hard to nail down sometimes.
She said I ought to breathe
more than I do.
I thought that ironic
given we all have to breathe
in order to function in our society.
Is that really what it's about?
I thought about it
drawing a deep breath.

Might smile,
when a storm blows in,
the winds
stir my state of mind.
Quiet memory
in line with my memory.
It was suddenly more difficult,
like that torrential rain teases
skin as I yearned for those
incredible moments
departing in the season of spring.
Spectacular settings,
when love might blossom

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I stood alone.
Time stayed by my side.
I wondered aloud.
They shut their doors,
pulled their shades.
Time stayed with me.
I imagined life to have a
purpose and reason to
live compassionate lives.
I wanted kindness to spread its beauty upon
all she might encounter.

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When once I knew why
then everything fades.
What memories remain,
leave bittersweet stains.
The scars of natural love,
lost within each other’s
soul, our hearts do bleed.

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My tears were real that night ago,
how sweet were we together.
We walked with the idea of holding
hands, knowing we might try again.
Yet we did hold on, the steady
rain just kept reminding us,
we could recreate this moment, again.
We wondered if we might … meet again.

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I would wait all night long
if it meant her heart would show,
basking in the twilight of our lives,
allowing only memories to prevail.
Seems sometimes, a symbol,
that we might imagine
exists in our lives. We’re there.
Yet even then, still, feeling the rain.

When once ‘I saw her standing there.'

Played well like a Beatles song,

she so displaying only

her ingenuous nature.

And there it is again, seems right,

when lost in retrospect she does come

calling with a sweet psychic mystique.

only she will retell the story.

When might she open the door?

It’s when all else
seems alive in mind.
For the now is often
found in a profound
moment. All else
is forgotten and
our resilience
speaks in the moment.

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I swear to God, sometimes,
I know it’s you,
and it’s then I become thankful.
Though I’m told in silence,
not to respond,
I’m just happy and relieved.
Everything I believe in still
walking across a canvas,
like an artist’s brush stroke.
Like the short story,
In that one moment, my world does sing.

My feeling is there are too many loopholes. The administration and Hegseth can find their way around classified information which will simply negate it's impact. It just seems nothing sticks.

Painful To Watch

As we could feel the end was near,
the confusion became a central
idea in our mind. Each of us
would struggle with the outcome,
long before becoming enveloped
in its obscure headlock,
our love, suddenly a memory.

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The day had begun
with the same indecision
makes me want to stay in bed,
the shelter from reality waiting
outside my door, never rushed.
Always there waiting for me to
wander into its reality,
that world beckons my
comprehension.
Yet, still I'm left with choices.

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I Found Our tLetters

So many words we shared,
acknowledging vulnerable
souls simply living.
We talked of quiet moments
we hadn’t yet lived together.
We imagined what could be
if only we let ourselves relax.
Oh to return to such musings.
Our gentle soul, ours, old souls.

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