surface
ripples
concentric
energy
glides
impermanent
expanding
circles
racing
nudging
returning
crossing
-T. Weeks
(A response to “A Paumanok Picture”)
Category: Uncategorized
Moving
Lifting packing hauling sweating
Cramming memories into boxes
At first I stop and admire each
A dusty faceted precious gem
Placing each in careful order
Long shadows of a hurried afternoon
Stretch interest into thin strains
Easily broken
Now I refocus determined to finish
Dumping the rest in a tumble
Careless and taped shut
Ready to be shelved at the next stop
-T. Weeks
(A response to “Thou Mother with Thy Equal Brood”)
Lives
Just teleport
Change guns
You’re gonna die
You got him
Get the ammo
Jump jump jump
What are you doing
You totally died
Let’s do something else
Like what
I don’t know
But I’m bored
We just keep dying
-T. Weeks
(A response to “Pensive and Faltering”)
Vacuum
Right now I am empty
A vacuum chamber
Nothing to say
Nothing to give
No materials colliding
Devoid of interactions
I am become a laboratory
A chamber of study
Watching from my window
What happens inside
When I do this…
-T. Weeks
(A response to “As I Watch the Ploughman Ploughing”)
Applause
With a wink and a bow they gather
Footfalls find their fading cousins
Reverberating about the empty hall
Punctuated murmuring applause
Beacons to probe stale shadows
Clarions to announce an arrival
And to signal a retreat
The nexus of a universe passing in the dark
-T. Weeks
(A response to “The Last Invocation”)
Sequitur
Before there was time there was a singularity
Until it splattered against the void
Spraying pinwheels of energy into the vast nothing
Seeds sown in receding virgin space
Remote and complex
One seed sprouted and bore fruit
The fruit looked and saw the splatter
And mistook itself for an observer
Unaware that it was a symptom
-T. Weeks
(A response to “Thought)
Prosper
Spock Loves You
Scrawled on the wall
Below the icon
Of our Lord and Vulcan
Spock Saves
Written on my heart
In fleshy block letters
Inviting redemption
-T. Weeks
(A response to: “Night on the Prairies”)
Throw-away
For every poem I throw away
A hundred flowers blossom
Buds of meditation
Blooming and wilting in stolid isolation
Some struggle others rise
Through hard baked soil
Fragile green shoots
Burying roots deep and dark
Halting erosion and delivering oxygen
Compost for the poem that I keep
-T. Weeks
(A response to “To One Shortly to Die”)
Tao
Treading paths untrod
Meager steps trace shaded contours
Turning a blind corner aimless
I find a weeping stranger
Isolated forgotten irrelevant
Fear not dear stranger I see you
Next a challenger blocking the way
Preened and desperate for praise
Fear not dear stranger I see you
Agony and furry shriek in the shadows
Alerting me of an unseen torment
Fear not dear stranger I see you
-T. Weeks
(A response to “O Living Always, Always Dying”)
What Is It?
What is your name?
The word to query your attention
The file where I’ll store your face
Along with a few notes
And that one conversation we had
The token I’ll pass to others
To authenticate the exchange
Where we’ll both say
Oh yes I know that person
And a branch will blip into life
A new node in the awareness
A testament that we were here
-T. Weeks
(A response to “A Noiseless Patient Spider”)
Life Immense 