dust upon your shoes
souls of those who made the path
you now freely walk
remembrance
vanishing point…
an apparition
like everyone before us
we just disappear
leaving no trace of our lives
except unread inscriptions
the auction…
sale begins
promptly
at
seven am
bring a lunch
since
all items
must be
disposed of
before
we can
go home
you’ll find something
for
everyone
cuz’
we’re selling
a couple’s lifetime
together
we’ll start
the day
with
a matched set
of
custom-made wedding rings
surely
a symbol of true love
just
for you
if you’re
willing
to pay the price
like
they did
there’s a mission oak bed
just what
you
antique freaks
love
it’s like new
however
the springs
will need to be replaced
but
be assured
only one loving couple
has occupied
this bed
which brings us to
the lovely
old
porcelain baby shoes
the perfect
thing for your collection
there’s also
lots of fine china
and
pots and pans
that seem
to still ring
with the laughter
of
friends
enjoying life
oh
and there’s
lots of
original paintings
from
around the world
acquired
during
traveling adventures
impress your friends
with
your excellent taste
for
artwork
by
buying up
these framed
memories
oh
and
there’s boxes
and
boxes
of fullfilled dreams
to sort through
if
you have the time
but
just
a handful
of
deferred dreams
to add
to those
you already own
arrive early
and
scan this life
before
your
time
runs out
so many poems…
i wonder
if
anyone
stops and stares
at
these billboards
of
my mind
the words
that
i place
upon
the page
i suspect
most
will be forgotten
along
with
my name
that is
of
course
not much
of a surprise
we poets
for centuries
have pasted
our feelings
on
every surface
possible
words
often erased
by
ignorant
self-serving hands
or
those frightened
by the truth
but
we have
had
our say
and
on occasion
are able
to give voice
to those
who dare
not speak
giving voice
to those
unheard
we poets
attempt
to yell above
the vulgar platitudes
of
concern
and
empty promises
promises
for a better day
if only the oppressed
will
give
it
time
time
the one thing
they’re permitted
to have
and
oppressors
want them
to waste it
waiting
for what will
never
come
in your moment of regret…
the tomb has been sealed
only a memory’s left
no words can be heard
no old promises fulfilled
as they say you had your chance
the abbey…
fragments of the past
still remain for us to see
truth is nothing’s there
for all the lives that made it
have vanished into god’s dust
unattended…
old sun bleached table
retains a fine lace pattern
of a lost doily
a loved weaver’s legacy
faded image of a life
lifestyle pundits…
like your life your words
will quoted and misquoted
vanish from memory
a shallow grave resting place
paved over by indifference
illegal immigrants…
once death’s accepted
the question’s not if but when
the worrisome how
is an agenda item
paramount in some folk’s minds
but there’s an old lie
that fills our hearts with anger
eternal life myths
those promises that control
our desires and behaviors
keeping us restrained
compliant to other’s will
oh we had a choice
go against society
and live in the wilderness
or meekly comply
and go with the flow of life
sacrificing dreams
but being an outstanding
to be forgot fine corpse
with a funeral toast
praising all that you didn’t do
making you a saint
in some distant land of peace
an undocumented soul
evanescence…
the details
of
my existence
are
fading
some
replaced
with
deliberate
confusion
by
others
an attempt
to
justify
their
fading existence
details
they clearly recall
but
wish not
to
claim
much easier
to
attribute
them
to
someone else
often called
selective memory
but
once
such flaws
are
stapled onto
another’s
existence
it becomes
a form
of
assassination
but
i suppose
it
really
doesn’t matter
since
we’ll all be
forgotten
anyway
Read Between the Minds 