Tuesday, May 19, 2015

With Relief

With Relief

Each windy waking night
I rouse and retire

the years grow around me
the time tucks me in
only to,
cautiously tell me to be alert
over and over again

the pendulum of pace
the irony of the earnest
and the cracks in the eyes of the observer
those tell-tale lips
that tell no more

the notion of that old story
new now, will be old again

you know how this ends

why speak it

live it with a sense of relief


By: M. MacMinn

www.markmacminn.com

Friday, April 17, 2015

Ghosts of the Future

Ghosts of the Future

Times seem simple now
easy, blissful, restrained
early evenings
time with friends
balanced moments
focused and tame

stories of past
creep into the present
as new friends turn
to old

ghosts of the future
somber and silent
each day a quest
with a goal

We are all so aware
as energy brings us together
We all are defined
empowered altogether


By: M. MacMinn

www.markmacminn.com



Sunday, February 22, 2015

Downloads

Downloads

By: M. MacMinn

We can do it
wake up the world,
Wake up

It's not with a feel good folk movement
It's with a scolding, with disappointment

You are an inferior child
doused in privilege
spray tanned and sullen

You require endless delusion
bottomless mimosas
and Superbowl Sundays, everyday

You are forgotten to yourself
a creature of gloss and magazines
Pop culture and Pepsi-cola
endless emptiness
and porn downloads

So we're listening
what words do we see

There is a structure and a scent to the color
a feel to the lo-glow of the candles burning

The chant of the songwriter
the antics of the company
and the PSA of sorrow

The hidden humanity
concealed from us all
the strangers of suffering
the celebrators of static


www.markmacminn.com





Sunday, February 15, 2015

Note. 3

Note. 3

by: M. MacMinn


Anxious, worked up, severed

scribbling in the dark of the shaking light
abrupt flashes of security and hope


www.markmacminn.com

Sunday, January 18, 2015

Tied Bows

Tied Bows

By: M. MacMinn

She walks in smooth and casual strokes
her beauty slicing the air
she seems like a dream, dancing through tied bows
that hidden child that knows too much
to let her sadness show

When time has come to cast away
the age old beauty's grown
more days have come and light has dawned
shouting days to weeks to months to years
in decades, and centuries collapse

Rebirth, awake and lapse


www.markmacminn.com



Sunday, January 4, 2015

The Road to Tennessee

The Road to Tennessee

By: M. MacMinn


There is a special silence in the south

It's embracing, like a snug hug,
warm and comforting.

It's in the air

It's also stern,
impending and harsh
Raw and natural
on every given day

You can bask in it
and hide from it
all at once

Vast, open and slow


www.markmacminn.com