“A Contemplation on the Validity of Existence”

toes wrapped in warm socks
creature comfort, I
sensory organ I
fleshy carcass I
sit in anticipation
sustenance on the stove
bitter turns the heart
analytical flip switch on
green for go, ascend
beyond carrion self, beyond
into objective
open space mind expand, begin
begin to consider
parasite I says nothing
many words, emotion
imposed upon the earth
without direction when
Newton’s 3rd law
react, embody, become
reality exists
and we within
fluidity or obstacle
all shades of the between
to exist
to allow to exist
simplicity becomes complication
when words tests the day
when will is bound again to flesh
human error is redundant
ego rules the man
survival of the loudest
justify the right to win
god must be delusional
like taking advice from the village idiot
dare to be surprised at inevitable
don’t question your right
else you might accomplish something

© M. Black, 2017 All rights reserved.

“Love Is”

Far too often do we attempt
to detail, one to another
what love should be

Love is patient, love is kind
but we forget that love is unforgiving,
love is merciless

Love is trust
that another shares your idea
of what love is
trust that they love you
above themselves-
above the need to satisfy ego

So soon we forgot the purpose of union
and its far-outdated uses
thus, we try, as our fathers did
to assign necessity to choice

Love is
not mysterious
it holds no magical properties
unlike ourselves, lost in throes
of hormones and willfulness-
most irrational of beasts

Love is
what you make of it
an ear, to fill with sorrows
a home, to keep you safe
warm touch, to soften pain
a face, for every aggressor

Love is
and will only ever be
a unique experience
shared between persons

Love is
our design

© M. Black, 2017 All rights reserved.

” Integrum Observationes”

today I went looking for inspiration
but all I found was Fear
the fear of being rejected by-
discarded by-
of being alone, unwanted-

today I went looking for inspiration
but all I found was Sadness
the sensation of loss, the heavy weight-
emotional fetters that hold us victim
to ourselves and our pain

today I went looking for inspiration
but all I found was Hope
the hope that everything will be okay-
somehow good may yet triumph
and that we will overcome

today I went looking for inspiration
but all I found was Life
humanity at its worst, and finest
and everyone in between
the life lived, or the one taken too soon
the beauty of fragility
the beauty of strength
the spark that gives us life
that makes us flawed, makes us unique
that from which, we create

and so, inspired, I wrote it all

© M. Black, 2017 All rights reserved.


it’s almost midnight
and I’m hungry
I just got home
from a long day’s work
and I’m unwilling
to face the cold again
for a disappointing drive-thru trek
besides, I am expected
to clock back in
at 9 am,
so winding down seems wise
allow the bed to call me home
but then
a sound diverts my attention
and I realize that I must have
turned the coffeepot on
to reheat morning leftover

and realize
even subconsciously, I
seem intent on thwarting my own plans

© M. Black, 2017 All rights reserved.


the pen is not sacred
until it has written a work of art
as then is the vessel
the hands, the heart which feels
even the mind within
that creates
these are ideas of self
my hands, my paper, my mind
but without the body of work
they are only ideas of
pieces of a poet

© M. Black, 2017 All rights reserved.


barefoot children at play in the park
streets lined with glinting windshields
cars rest beneath the midday sun
the ice cream truck is always out of tune
neatly trimmed hedges and the smell of cut grass
shirtless men jogging, and bikini clad women to stare
when sun sets over cotton fields the land itself seems to glow
as appropriately green trees line a postcard perfect backdrop
“Building an inclusive community”
must be summer in the Emerald City

© M. Black, 2017 All rights reserved.

“The Cost of Vanity”

Concern never came
Not when I woke to sound of water
rushing, propelled by vengeful force
Not when I tied the rope to my life vest
and waded to the boat

Never during the ride
as we passed houses that used to be homes
Not even when the boat began sinking
submerged cars reached out like deadly sirens
each trying to take a piece for themselves
calling our craft below to share a shallow grave

Nor when the dogs came
clinging to bits of floating debris
desperately searching faces for familiarity
Not even when lost to the current
and my legs sought purchase on a rolling floor

Not when the helicopters appeared overhead
circling like benevolent vultures
picking us off one at a time
the young, the elderly, the weakest first

Nor during the weeks we spent wondering what was left
laying head to toe with strangers
like sardines in our tin can of a shelter
rationing water and food- civilized livestock that we were
waiting for our names to be called
by someone with a clipboard and an impatiently clickable pen
someone whose clothing still hung neatly in a warm closet

Not even when word arrived, and we returned
Dressed in HazMat suits to enter the wasteland of our home
like settlers on a foreign planet
exploring ruins of a past civilization
studying artifacts and documenting findings
for our overlords in insurance companies
who would name a price for our lives

Not living as a number, waiting for a check
Not turning in vouchers for food, nor
wearing the charity of others on my back
Not when trying to hold my head high
to be brave, a survivor- though nothing felt victorious

Only after, and every day since
when the rains come and the water climbs,
older, I, pack a bag and sit in vigil
watching a quiet doom edge closer
like an angry god that almost took me, offended by apathy
and I pray that my concern will be offering enough

© M. Black, 2017 All rights reserved.