Echolocation

Standard

Soaring on

streams of consciousness.

I’m speaking up

speaking up —

even if you’re not tuned-in.

Haven’t you heard?

I’m broadcasting

so that one way

or another

we’ll find each other.

I’ll spread the word.

Come dusk

we’ll find a spot

with great acoustics,

and sing our hearts out.

I’m speaking up,

speaking up,

because I have a voice.

———————————-

Instagram: @thefilepile

Facebook: The File Pile

Cash Crops

Standard

When you have what you need

you live in abundance.

Like clockwork,

we move,

shed, molt,

go dormant

and emerge anew,

something ventured,

something gained

and something left behind.

To sow and reap,

you must

slash and burn,

you must preen and prod

and above all else,

you must stay diligent.

Unceremonious

we cast aside the chaff,

the husks and hulls —

our daily bread’s

last line of defense.

Nothing is redundant.

Time isn’t always borrowed,

it can be rented,

or invested,

or leveraged.

In boomtimes and busts

harvest arrives,

whether you’re ready

or withered on the vine.

———————————-

Instagram: @thefilepile

Facebook: The File Pile

Disintegration

Standard

Watch closely,

as I fall apart at the seams.

Every crease

giving way,

every fiber of my being

unwound.

For now

I am the dust at your feet,

the gust of wind

that tosses your hair,

the sunlight

on your shoulders —

I am boundless,

the open sky,

the ether.

A crash of lightning

announcing itself one moment,

and gone without a trace

the next.

Listen carefully,

the thunder tells all,

from a roar to a murmur

the sky shutters,

the air reverberates.

Like the rainclouds,

I wander in circles,

I’ll change my shape

and return another day.

———————————-

✍🏻 Follow me here ! ✍🏻

Instagram: @thefilepile

Facebook: The File Pile

Carrion

Standard

Cherry blossom petals

blowing daintily,

landing scattershot

carpeting the lawn with freckles

all the way down —

ashes to ashes.

Mounds of blushing porcelain

find rest

atop

a tire-marked

fox carcass

by the roadside.

“I will bring you home.”

The vulture does no harm,

it does only what it must.

Soaring high

with a keen eye,

for the wary.

An unending journey

to find the lost,

and guide them

back to the origin.

All long walks

must end

somewhere.

Carried on updrafts,

petals blow past

grazing deer

gazing fondly

at napping fawns —

dust to dust.

Compound Eyes

Standard

The fly on the wall

watches closely,

focused on

nothing at all

yet ready for anything.

Buzzing wings,

hundreds of flutters

in the span of a heartbeat,

fling the fly on the wall

down the hall

to a new perch,

a fresh perspective

for further study.

10,000 telescopes per eye,

surveil you.

They tell all —

giving forewarning,

performing troubleshooting.

A mind,

with no capacity to judge

speculate

or daydream

makes life amongst

the clutter

easier.

Unbothered

by raised fists

and rolled-up magazines,

until they’re impossible to ignore —

it evades every strike,

like trying to wrestle

a wisp

of smoke.

Never quite

out of sight

out of mind —

I too will watch,

you may be small

but this house

doesn’t have room

for you.

Rain Smell

Standard

Overcast skies,

mourning doves crooning,

cars gliding slowly

across soaked asphalt.

Wisps of steam

rise from your teacup,

raindrops streak

down the half-open windows

of the screened-in porch —

pooling on the sills and

trickling from the gutters.

The world grinds to a halt,

just for this moment.

Breezes blow in

through the insect screens,

rustling branches

and carrying

wafts of petrichor

that connect you

to the world you swore

you’ve escaped from.

A few more minutes

out here

couldn’t hurt.

Terrarium

Standard

You’ll be safe in here,

that’s my promise to you.

This is not a cage,

It’s your space; your stage,

your opportunity to show everyone

who you are.

So well constructed,

that you could never be replicated

in the tumult of nature.

So inculcated we are,

to believe the inherent worth

of the spontaneous.

Be still,

I will water your succulents

sparingly,

to keep them from drowning.

I will make changes

as the days go by,

you can trust me

with the maintenance.

You’ll stay by the windowsill

so you too can see the light.

The world outside this jar

is cold; it’s unforgiving

its unpredictable.

You needn’t worry

about the chaos outside,

I have given you peace,

protection,

stability —

in return just be yourself for me,

we’ll call it even.

Fission

Standard

Chack

Goes the cue ball,

as it breaks

the tenuous structure

at the start of the game.

We collected these balls,

and set them here

for specifically this purpose.

The purposive percussion,

can have unforeseen side effects,

such as scratches,

shouting matches

or, at worst,

the 8-ball finds a way

to lose you the whole affair.

But with precision and care,

the collisions

and chain reactions you hope for,

carry you through.

A game of pool revitalizes the night.

It brings joy and energy,

that escalates,

as each ball finds its way to a pocket,

out of sight

but not out of mind.

All from the predictable instability

at its outset.

————————————————–

✍🏻 If you like my work, follow me on social media! ✍🏻

Facebook: The File Pile

Instagram: @thefilepile

————————————————–

Sycamore

Standard

Winds of change,

carry me away,

I will spiral

as I ride the currents,

to still waters,

to green pastures.

The gale will wail,

but I will not falter,

it’s fury will take me

somewhere new,

I have faith.

I will put down roots,

I will stand as tall as I can,

from midsummer,

through first frost

but, here, I cannot stay.

Winds of change,

I will follow your lead,

I fear no obstacle,

you have carried me above them.

Though you have set me down,

I will not rest,

The sun sets in the West,

I will face East,

and take in the morning light,

no matter the hand I’m dealt.

Winds of change,

carry me away,

I wish to see the world,

carry me away.

————————————————–

✍🏻 If you like my work, follow me on social media! ✍🏻

Facebook: The File Pile

Instagram: @thefilepile

————————————————–

Whale Watching

Standard

“Ready?”

Take a deep breath,

you’ll want to make it last.

We all traversed the undercurrents,

and took shots in the dark.

The sharks played chicken with us,

though there’s safety in numbers,

we didn’t need the hassle

so we went fishing.

We grabbed a bite to eat

And did some networking,

with a few like-minded pods.

“Let’s take a break”

in the tropics,

we met the locals

the coral shimmered in the choppy light

coming through

crystal-clear water.

“Let’s make waves by the bay,”

Anchored boats watched

as half of us

caused a ruckus

and the rest lazed by,

until we saw Sailors’ Delight.

“Let’s get going,”

“Same time tomorrow?”

“I’ll have my people call your people,”

“listen for our code.”

Fond farewells

echo in the distance

as they await

another day.