I entertained other paths
Other work
But this remains strong
I guess I cannot
Escape
Thus I should
Surrender
Into,
Then through,
My fear
Only I shall remain
Category: Free Verse
Most everything that isn’t a haiku or tanka falls into this category lately. Subject to change, of course.
Community’s Criticalness
We glorify
Independence
Yet it is imperfect.
Humanity needs
Community
Nothing more destructive
Than isolation
Youthful Memories: A Free Verse Meditation
Youthful memories
Comic books
Toy ray-guns
Sunlit days
Free of shoes
Sand covered toes
Burning echoes
Of the first-girl-I-loved’s
Bemusement
And resultant mockery
I wonder
Why suffering
Delights us so?
Such cruelty divides us
A charred gulf bearing
Smoldering rubble
Remnants of hope
So many memories of this journey called life. Painful ones sometimes rise up, reminding me of their place in my mind, my psyche. Hints of underlying angers and frustrations, damage done.
Listening to Compline
Sitting in dim light
Not darkness, tranquil
People highlighted by shadow
Candle’s energy dancing
Upon faces, glinting eyes
Music carries words
Deeper than where
They’ll go
On their own power;
Calmness fills empty spots
Within my soul
Refreshed and
Birthed anew
Seattle’s St. Marks cathedral has hosted compline for decades. Sung evening prayer has roots deep in Christian liturgy and the Anglican tradition. These speak to me deeply, especially in candlelit halls of stone.
Dusk
As night descends
Summer’s air cools
I enjoy tranquility
A moment, flowing
Quickly, as life
Demands attention
Westward colors
Embrace the sky
Smoke, and other
Things, transcend
To beauty
Children’s Laughter
This sound
Laughing children
Always a delightful way
To awaken
Slumber
Morning
Sleep, awake
A subtle dance
Between states
Unwilling to choose
Not just yet
Not just
Yet
Transformations
My child prepares
The next journey
Of schooling
A single step
This new world
Transformation
Intimidates some
Others feel promise
Some blend them
Strange balance
The Changing Season
Boys training
Football season nears
Air cooler this morn
And wet fog upon glass
Autumn’s inevitability
Soon, so soon
Ease of Waking
I find it far easier
Waking to poetry
Than to news
Carl Setzer: Word Shaper 