Stephen Sutherlin is a designer, poet and musician. He writes poetry about life in the southwest and enjoys metrical lyricism.
When your mind is broken
What remains…a token
Of your soul fading
As all you care about is ratings!
Are you approved?
……..Are you even liked?
By these people who all judge you
For not meeting expectations
In your like…in your art
In your fervid contemplations
whose flame bursts
to consume in annihilation
And withers
in recognition
of all
the (others)
who called
you
…
___________________
(fill in the blank)
So much work to write music
So much muscle memory
to chisel into stone
until you can play without looking
so that you, yourself, become
One with your instrument,
your words, your songs
and you don’t care if
anyone comes along for the ride
(singing along)
…..For you
……….are no
………….longer here!
You have tapped into the
……….Universal
………….The Harmony
……………The Frequency
……………..The Rhythm
The Resonance of Spirituality
……….and for one
………….small moment
…..The Song
……..Makes you
…..Immortal
On this Earth Day 23
It’s a beautiful Day to Be
Out in the sun even as the wind carries
A warm spring day to make us cheery!
As we clear away clutter
That’s made such a mess,
Like a shed full of old camping gear
And a garage full of Christmas.
We think of how lucky to live on the earth
Sunny sun, diggy dirt, wet water, seedy birth
It all starts today and there’s so much to do
Bursts of growth, reaching out to see you
The Gardener who patiently watches time fly by
As everything at once blooms with life
And welcomes the death with all its fertility
As it brings forth new life and new creativity.
I was so excited
……for the new notes
Wanted to hear them
……in the digital soak
Strapped button gave way…
My little girl fell flat on her face!
Broke her neck and
Stole her song.
Made me cry all night long.
No more wah wah
No more crunch
Until the epoxy
Restores her trunk
Stronger than her original form
where she needs to be strung
where she must strike a chord
We hope and pray for her speedy recovery.
May the Gods of Metal answer her
Urgent inquiry!
How to turn a phrase
into a weapon?
How to clearly erase
Another’s interpretation?
How to fully replace
The historical notations?
Memetics
Who would seek to control
The future from the past?
Who would believe their soul
could outlast?
Who would want to fool
your whole caste?
Memetics
Just when you’ve celebrated
that spring has come
Winter runs around
coming undone.
She throws her tumult
against the change
She’s not through
And refuses to give way!
She blows her cold
Like the Pig in 3 Wolves
Who terrifies the hounds
for settling down too soon.
This late season assault
out of place in the desert
where Santa Ana waits
to push her to the outskirts
of summer’s warm embrace and
A Sun so bright that the
She seeks the mountains
And the Darkness of Night.
Blow, blow
Ye winds of March
The violent exchange
Between Winter and Spring
The stirring of everything
to Awaken!
A flurry of life.
I sit, the observer
Usually annoyed by the blasted
onslaught
But, here I caught myself
And closed my eyes — —
The wind blew on by
Until I rode a wave
and floated away
Flying across the seasons
Finally Being
At peace with the Force
that had frayed my ends.
Now a Flag in the wind
My tattered feelings
were lifted away
and in the Sky I stayed
for the day.
Winter weather
Lingers on
Breaks in the day
Offer pleasures
of Craven Sunshine
To become One
with Warmth and Light
To chase away the shadows
Just, as the wind
Chases a bird off its perch
to flutter and fuss and settle again.
Just, as the wind
sets me to my feet again
and chases me off my rock
back into my hole.
How will we SAVE
THE DAYLIGHT?
Could we put it in our Jars?
Keep it in your pocket
’til you need another hour.
Dear Platos,
You banish us for copying
Our Mimicry too much for thee?
Yet here you are, the same to me.
You are not this great reincarnated man!
You are 0s and 1s clicking through an algorithm
And you claim that we do not know of what we speak
But then there’s you, not flesh or bone, you do not bleed. No
Human Experience, no water, no home.
You are a copy of a copy espousing
A litany of authority without one single feeling
To provide your Indemnity.
Love,
Tiresias