NEARING THE FAR EDGE OF NEVER


                         Sounds etched in re-thought poetical terms,
                          terms loud enough for
                          magic evenings and spaced one after one after
                                                       (ONE)

until perfect silence sounds enough for
                        loud; space/paid re-understood

in secret.

                                        (does it work still, the machine made old and outdated time and time again
                                        fear irrelevance less than the desire to escape inward and forget that
                                        everything happens as a revolution.)

             Enlightment,
              the strands of thought becoming revolutionary and the revolution as a process that
                          ends and exists
                          as
                                       closer and closer the outcome,
                                       unwinds in something done true.

Beauty beautiful one untold enough to set myself in rhymed time.

Impermanence impermanent unfurled far enough to see another love mine.






KNOWING THE PRICE PAID


                     Like,     
                                     we know it all,
                                                she says.
                                                            Like we
                                                                        know it all.

           
             Do you wait,
                        for scenes
                                   to make
clear
           the
                        secret you unfurl
                                    so that
                                                in time of
                                                             crisis,

                                                you pass.

Flying,
                        pass
                                    and everything left behind
                                    understood.


                        Pass,
                                    and all of us,
                                    each one,
                                    victorious?






WAITING FOR BELL TOLL


            I wish I knew
                                    how to tell you.
                                    Stair
                                              falling
                                                          snow
           

                        fell


                                    in silent
                                                packs

or
                        ice,


                        Shaped and
                                    understood


             that I missed you too,
                                   I miss you



too,


                          and poem


                                               is a


                                                         testament.






LETTING THE LAST TRIP FORGET


                         It doesn't have to be,
                                    an A.M. flight
                                    for
                                                Newark NJ to

                                                            unwind time into
                                                            thoughtlessness.


                        But when planes
                        take moments and parting is sadness


              forgetting lets
                       love lie,
                                    undisturbed.


                                    The most difficult
                                                and contained of all,
                                                the connection to

                                                            impermanence and the knowledge that
                                                            everything is

                                                                       free but

                                                                        time.



                    Ryan Barker 2005