gravity rolls around defying physics

Lighthouse Dandelions by Jamie Wyeth 

in the bleak darkness dandelions seem so nebulous
the clouds hover to take away the light
such a vision for someone who is watching from up above

opaque sun is blazing over that mindless thought
lighthouse is not cut out for cheery vegetation
such a perfect timing for the ship to approach

particles hover only to crush the spirit
torch is useless to dig out the weeds underneath the slab
why do I waste my breath over it all?

random flow of the matter within the mind
may not be popular with the crowd
but the lined cloud's moves make it up for a wonderful visual

"open the windows, let the gravity move in"

chants fill the mind rolling down to the heart

Old Couple: photo by Togan Gokbakar 

do they wish to rekindle 
to get that spark back
to get back to that vow made long ago
life now is such a drone
chants are circling around them like a halo

the blinding sun is also binding
they hide in that cave
they do not hold hold hands
but the fist in the crook of her hand
fills all the space in his heart

he knows he cannot be broken 
as long as she is there
he stares at us expressionlessly
challenging us silently
I retreat, let them be

"the music will play on and on for them both, 
as long as they have each other"

ocean within the mind

as if eternally etched there, constant is but
moving around, breaking into serrated edges
of the brain, vastness of those thoughts just

about turn around, hitting at the wedges
of time already passed, nonetheless effect
the convoluted shells in the mind’s ledge-

each crevice fills leaving no space. reflects
of the cogitation left behind, still have power
to mar. conquering the mind does not affect

the spirit, as untamed as it can be, towers
over, looking down with disdain at weakness
of consciousness. bottomless psyche showers

more of intellect, energizing the body. bleakness
disappears, like anything dropped into the ocean
is accepted, returned in some other way, uniqueness

retained yet different. slightest of change within, 
understanding with wisdom to be calmly serene. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was a pleasure to write a terza rima after a VERY long time.....

I would rather pick the clouds

Young Woman Picking the Fruit of Knowledge, 1892 by Mary Cassatt

I have to decipher 
the thousands of messages 
hidden in the thunderous clouds

no window dressing 
can hide from me 
the soup of knowledge

I have to be in the front 
when the clouds spit it all out 
pulsing with their importance 

I plan to turn on all my charm 
and collect it all in a red dish

"such fuzzy words evoke no feelings

or do they?"