Plane Note #1

Plane Note #1

by: M. MacMinn

Silent pictures
we sneak, we watch, we draw

Your victim as unaware as you,
that you are words,
sleek and smooth, observant and unknowing

Take off,
now we fly

Your eyes are quicker than my own,
for mine linger to watch
Resting behind you,
I wonder if you feel this

We are flying



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The Note

The Note

by: M. MacMinn

In a dream, a musical note, one perfect note
jutting from a saxophone or trumpet
One extended from Davis or Coltrane
pure, crisp, magical, chilling

A note, pushing over the edge
bringing tears, connecting
Hitting in the home of your heart,
of your soul

Melting any former self
Teaching, nothing matters
not your life, not your achievements
nothing written, said, experienced

Finally, understanding significance and relation to now

I want to be that note, and then I want to die
just be that note, and slide away

With the wind, rolling with the ocean,
riding upon the air and water

For the duration of time



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When the Boy Made Me

When the Boy Made Me

by: M. MacMinn

We grew empty with careless concern
a buzz at night and searching

We walked to far, to far to return
tired and lost, tired and wandering

With a wayward stretch, singing dust in the wind

Learning the present, passing through days

Only to be
the man that I am, when the boy made me




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Pound Upon Your Walls

Pound Upon Your Walls
by: M. MacMinn


I bid upon your will
to read behind my eyes
To agree by the path you walk
and the doors you close behind

Still open enough for me to enter
and pound upon your walls
Now it's I that reads behind your eyes
breathing freedom, chained in stalls

A silent pass, a gentle touch,
the frustrating sound of yes
A mystery so pressed upon
we'll never have to guess

Fiction builds inside my mind
making stories real
The stories that I tell myself
make me scared to feel.




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