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Spirit's Wall

In spirit's wall,
lost hopes hands lay thick bricks,
mortared with the musings of hardening apathy,
until moving them seems impossible.

© Brenneman T. June 1, 2004

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Blue Can't Stand Up, Surfs Anyway

I don't...
or won't paint the blueness in sun's soul,
yet also won't
note only yellow in blue-bordered sun's bowl.

Yet in colors of blue I ride the waves,
capture cures in wonder's hue-revealing caves.
In such chasms my eyes light, search for days.
As wanderer I float through life's byways.

© Brenneman T. June 2, 2004

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Won't Take the Pill

Count me difficult if you will,
but I won't sit back and take the pill.
I won't let go of dreams I've had,
or sit in silence among what's bad.

All the sorrows of a broken world,
can't stop my hope that's present-hurled.
When I reclaim the zest of childhood,
songs out of tune seem plenty good.

Today's more than just the bristly brush I use
to paint tomorrow's finer hues.
With black, I feel night without light,
then squeeze out faith, soul's tube of white.

© Brenneman T. June 3, 2004

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Persistence

A tree has fallen,
but the tall stump still stands,
sending out new branches,
reclaiming life amidst the rotting mass
of it's own history.

There are few favors as great
as the example of persistence
in the old tree's continued will to thrive
amongst the sullen dirt of it's only home.

The waterfall drips into being around it.
Through the force of faith against anguish,
wet beauty falls to its bed below.
New twigs stretch again toward hope.

© Brenneman T. June 26, 2004

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Unheard

My hinge is silent on it's track,
from wide open door to closed a crack.

I hear a creak within my head,
dreaming them beneath my bed,
but all is thought, and nothing said.

An oiled joint is by design,
unheard, as is the swing of time.

I run with rhythm in my gate,
and act as if I can't be late.
Then steps fall to silence on the slate.

Life moves on. I procrastinate.

© Brenneman T. June 26, 2004

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Blank Canvass, Full Stomach

On my canvass,
pink flower petals melt
into the uneven border of colorless procrastination.

Just outside, bright butterfly wings unfurl
into practice before first flight.
Seen by the bird, they are quickly eaten.

Opportunity is less a friend to fulfillment
than is determination,
yet both a way and will are necessary to success.

© Brenneman T. June 28, 2004

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