Static on the line,
Crackling consonants,
Warm and empty.
There is no me here,
Just the hissing void,
And now that I’m lost
Please don’t pick up.
Starved, I detach
Set adrift to white noise.
I see friends about.
Are they mine?
Does it matter?
Do I love anything
More than having it?
-T. Weeks
(A response to “Not Heat Flames Up and Consumes”)
Hello little traveler.
To where do you go
Fetal elements afloat?
Your payload fertile,
Your potential mighty,
Off you sail subject
To breezes oblivious,
Furtive fate awaiting.
-T. Weeks
(A response to “Roots and Leaves Themselves Alone”)
Everything you see
I am.
If you see me happy
I am.
If you see me cruel
I am.
If you see me lazy
I am.
If you see me brave
I am.
If you see me bright
I am.
If you see me sick
I am.
And everything you cannot see
I am.
-T. Weeks
(A response to “Are You the New Person Drawn Toward Me?”)
Exhausted, hangry, horny,
Behind, beset, worried,
Impatient, nauseous, confused.
The day was spectacular
But my view kind of sucked.
-T. Weeks
(A response to “When I Heard at the Close of the Day”)
Driving west on a high desert highway,
Ranch land stretching to the distant hills,
I passed, on my right, a small family
Pulled over and smiling for a picture.
Against the golden grass and knuckled trees,
The young couple held a young child,
And hope, aloft for a selfie worth 1000 likes.
Alone, on the left, just back from the road,
A slumped cross, gilded in faded silk flowers,
Looked on, nostalgic, rustling in the breeze.
-T. Weeks
Seeing and seen,
Friends, unguarded
Sitting sharing round.
We ask each other
The deep questions,
Excavating worries,
Unearthing brilliance,
Metabolizing doubt.
Here we are together.
-T. Weeks
(A response to “The Base of All Metaphysics”)
Little dots of color
Red, green, blue
Turn on, turn off,
No shape or form
No stories to tell.
Yet, before me I see
Black and white,
Faces and things,
Comedy and tragedy,
Digital illusion.
-T. Weeks
(A response “Of the Terrible Doubt of Appearances”)
The second dream came on fast and wide,
A cyclone dark and churning.
I stood above a raging expansive ocean,
Black forms riding in the waves.
Moving as dreams do, I was cast into the sea,
Sinking below the surging tide.
Suspended in blackest ink, fear swallowed me.
Choking, I spun, helpless.
Lightening flashed above the wrathful surf,
Glowing spasms soaking up the dark.
Above I saw the unsympathetic black creatures,
The ones that ride the waves.
Peering into the depths I saw strobing schools,
Coming at me fast, swarming.
My panic climaxed, the storm erupting above,
And reverence gave me breath.
I wept. My tears flowing into the tide,
This fluid chaos that held me.
-T. Weeks
I had two dreams in two nights time,
Both striking me with terror.
In the first I saw a beautiful woman
Staring back with lusty eyes.
Powerless to resist her I reached,
Hoping to caress the beauty.
In that instant, catastrophic decay
Overtook the woman’s face.
The skin of her cheeks falling away,
Exposing rotten black teeth.
Ambushed, panic rushed upon me
But I beheld the panic.
I cradled the once beautiful face gently
Below the chin, shaking.
The creature screamed savage shrieks
Snarling at my presence.
Dread assailed, demanding I run for safety,
But I would not yield.
Determined, I licked the curdled face,
Victorious. But over whom?
-T. Weeks
A splendid treasure I have found,
As I wandered by the pond, lost.
It may have always been there
Or maybe it was left by another.
Shall I share what I’ve found?
It is spectacular and dangerous.
Or should I scrap it as blunder?
That might be safer, but for who?
-T. Weeks
(A response to “These I Singing in Spring”)
Life Immense 