Tuning out the office buzz
We step into our headphones
Where lush beats shuffle and thud
Echoing from the bottom of a well
Time dilates in each Narnia of noise
We are all aware eyes around us
Pecking at their own high-def problem
Each of us will slay a dragon
Together and alone
Both captain and captive
-T. Weeks
(A response to “With Husky-Haughty Lips, O Sea“)
Forgotten minds
Once a fertile ablation to a virile land
Ferment in stagnant pools
A swamp that cannot be drained
Should we bottle them back up?
And pour it again?
No
Silk flowers never bloom
Life feeds on life
So we must live
Compost for the saplings
And the leaves of grass undiscovered
-T. Weeks
(A response to “Election Day, November, 1884“)
Glass in hand we submit the query
Where does space end
Wading through the results
Guesses mostly
We also see ourselves
Faintly in the glass
Staring back
A backdrop to the space under the glass
And the space above
And spaces we don’t know
Everywhere we look is space
Who can say where it ends
Perhaps the end is where we don’t look
-T. Weeks
(A response to “Then Last Of All”)
How is my fear faced?
Has it twin fanged loss
Betrayed by scars
Of hollow socket rage?
Can it smell goblin eared defeat?
When it comes will I see a face
Under that ambiguous hood?
Or have I seen it already
And forgotten?
Does it try to face me?
-T. Weeks
(A response to “By That Long Scan of Waves”)
No matter how perfectly executed
Papier-mâchè betrays its paper
Revealing text torn from its context
And pasted into forms foreign and new
Prose divorced from their origin
Hiding beneath the paint and glitter
Among these million orphaned words
By chance one may serve the sculpture
But will never reveal what it means
For it was never meant to
-T. Weeks
(A response to “Proudly the Flood Comes In”)
This is the perfect poem
Profound
Metered
Clever
Passionate
Gentle
Focused
I guess it’s a lot like her
-T. Weeks
(A response to “And Yet Not You Alone”)
The pen is intrepid
Ready always to dispense
Wherever it may
I am the coward
Sabotaging my balloon
Lest I journey
-T. Weeks
(A response to “Last of Ebb, and Daylight Waning”)
Once I stumbled towards the get
Then roamed about the what for
Claiming both I smile and forget
-T. Weeks
(A response to “You Tides with Ceaseless Swell”)
Cosmic bowling starts at 3:30
No one told us
Half way through our game
The lights went out
The music came up
And we started to glow
An experience unanticipated
Bowling is still bowling
But these new colors feel wild
-T. Weeks
(A response to “Had I The Choice”)
The tide of summer rolls back
Exposing the first signs of fall
Kids cram into hand-me-down shin guards
While their parents wait on the sidelines
Some sit and some stand
Some stare at their phones and worry about politics
Others chat about the weather and the start of school
This has all happened before
In the Spring when the tide begins to roll back in
The cycle will begin again
Some of us need the waters to thrive
Some of us need freshly expose sand
Here at the shore we meet our children
-T. Weeks
(A response to “The Pilot in the Mist”)
Life Immense 