The Hot Clay Of Stars

I do not have the math
To say
I understand the sub-microscopic
Or the expanding macroscopic

Or the sand
To say
I understand the before
Or the after

I am no religionist
And I am full of unknowns
Going as far back and forward
As may be

I keep faith with many dogs and humans
Having known many good souls
Cats are a puzzle not to mention lizards and spiders
Evil appears to be at work within and among us

The space between us
Between atoms
Within atoms
Interests me

We play together in these expanding spheres
Creating ecstatic musics
And disastrous complexities
In mindless competition and boundless love

We each fervently choose
To believe what we will until
One day we face again
The hot clay of stars

Brave fragile beings every one

Too Late

We float

Above a field

Seeming empty

We label normal

The empty underneath

Some are always speculating fantastically

Apocalyptically

Numbingly for gain

While innocent despite great effort

Simpler listeners toil more urgent-quiet

Knowing chance is always birthing monsters

From this field seeming empty

Ancient seething pestilential dread

Permits all

Meets no devouring corpuscles or savior birds

Too Late

Spreads invisibly inaudibly

Detonating compounding exponents

Banging Out in self surpassing shock

This field seeming empty

Now waves of burning breathless devouring sky

Noticed briefly

INTENTIONS

INTENTIONS

Will I

Listen to

Large loaded magazine

Impulse thought repeaters?

My choice to impulse

Forgetting who I may be

Perceives nothing

Forgets all

The intentional

Annihilated by the inadvertent

One generation inviting another

To forget

My generation and decade and instant of

Justice

Depends on momentous physical choices

Only flesh can prove

Stopping at Stop

Stopping at Perhaps

Going only with Go

Now I may accept all consequence

My deepest physical echoing cavern

Will speak next

Nothing but Truths

Will I listen self-honestly

Hearing

Agonies, rages, tendernesses

Abandoned for an age

No longer

Only

Intending?