July 2023 – RadioactivePoetry

Sculpture Amongst Wildflowers

in a field of wildflowers lingers a sculpture
marble amongst reds and blues
hues that vibrate with features well defined.

on a rainy day,
water slides down from stone eyes
for then, when the sun peeks by
the field feels more alive.

erosion is inevitable, so they say
but every day that I witness the grove,
where these wildflowers roam,
life still lingers
from the tips of the finger reaching up
the sculpt' holds, being unmarred,
visibly.

as night folds over
flowers hide, and the sculpture fades
woven into the tapestry of the cycle
spinning 'round the wheel,
when erosion takes
composition grasps.

hollow being I am, I ponder
in the field of wild, does the sculpt'
marble clad soul
mirror hollow or whole.

7/9/23

Is This Real

fingers, reaching out to check,
is this reality, or am I lost
endless cycles of madness
echoes of past slowly fading
as an aging mind fogs
existence variable,
if no memories are there.

so again,
fingers clasp onto this momentary
reality, in hopes of cementing
a flag and pole into this
fathoms rising to steal.

eyes tell me to trust myself
but if my vision goes black
and the world fades
am I real? or lost

fog gathers in the mirror we look
hoping for memories to stay
words stumbling around
tips of letters melt
and endless nights burn.

when all has gone black
current or memory
do I exist? is this real
the pain we share in tandem
binding, yet gone
when we blink
does void absorb.

am I losing my fucking mind
fantasies pale my brain
and existence strains my thoughts
were we all, or were we lost
in a wave of, bubbles of
a collapsing time
soon to be washed away
by the void that carries
and follows every day.

7/4/23