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i see
by Charlie Morganas the heavy hand of time
slogs along pointing-out
innocent victims of life;
the aroma of cleanser and cheap soap
circulates the office; a Mexican janitor
comes by dragging his heritage;
meanwhile as i read Japanese death poems
one more hour gets me closer
to my own, so i write furiously.
the mother worries about her
war-torn son; he's 3 months,
she's just planning ahead.
the old woman turns the corner
into the youth she knew.
anxious to find it again.
dragging shadows from trees
standing still; the moon gets heavier
as she chases the horizon.
i salute the innocent new-born
karma that, like a buddha,
is born with every moment.
a painted sign slobbered it's message;
flats fixt, cabage, rootabaga,
an wallermelons. 4 sail cheep!
i could no longer write the word: love, without pain.
when i got through typing, the space
that had the love-word is blank.
09/24/2009 Posted on 09/24/2009
Copyright © 2026 Charlie Morgan
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Alison McKenzie on 09/24/09 at 07:35 PM It's the "not" in love that makes us appreciate the "is" in love. I know it's not fun, to experience the suffering, but it's the suffering that gives us the appreciation for the not suffering. I hope, now that you know both, the majority of your experience will be in the not suffering. Because you are beauty. |
| Posted by George Hoerner on 09/24/09 at 09:13 PM Charlie my man I do believe you've found yourself in this one. A great write on what life is, a paradox of pain and joy mixed with the elixir of feeling, stirred with nature’s stick of perceptions, and the perspective that only humans can have. |
| Posted by Joe David on 09/25/09 at 03:24 AM I am running out of superlatives here. This one I wish I had written. It is just so right on, so quietly powerful, so packed with the paradox of daily real life, that I really do not know where to start. The innocent new-born karma born each moment - you are reaching new levels. Bring me a wallermelon, I'm not big on rootabaga. |
| Posted by Ken Harnisch on 09/25/09 at 01:58 PM an absolutely silence - ensuing - because - I've been - there last verse, Charlie...applause, painful as it is to put my hands together |
| Posted by Maude Curtis on 09/25/09 at 04:45 PM Yep, Life just keeps going on. Somedays we have and and some days we don't. Wishing you all the you deserve. |
| Posted by Maude Curtis on 09/26/09 at 08:05 AM Sorry for the garbled comment above everyone. Goes to show you that without love things just don't make sense. |
| Posted by Glenn Currier on 10/01/09 at 04:39 PM Charlie, I can just see your pen feverishly scrawling and your fingers nimbly typing to try to keep up with the brilliance of your mind before it sets for the night or for the life. I wonder if I deserve these moments in your sun, this friendship to cherish, or if my path just happened to zigzag across yours mapped by the great Cartographer in the sky. Whatever - I sure am glad I found and continue to fine you. This one among the jewels spread so profusely and lovingly across your library. Thanks, buddy. |
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