A Deep Drop

author’s note:

You’re just as much a paradox as I am.


A DEEP DROP

Before I fell asleep in the field
I recalled the waterdrop seen
on that dark-purple flower petal

and felt: I’m just a drop.

But as consciousness
slowly evaporated
into darkness
I felt myself
deepening down.

Then when I awoke
after an hour
or maybe a month
I remembered feeling
so small.
I remembered feeling
so deep.

I felt our truth again.

So easy to forget.

Listening to Silence: poetry ebook
© 2021, Michael R. Patton

A Short History of the Housecat

A SHORT HISTORY OF THE HOUSECAT

A short history of the housecat
would tell of lying on the sofa in the sun

which translated into “Cat”
would read:
pppaaaaaaaaaaaaa-uurrrrrrrrrrrrrr
pppaaaaaaaaaaaaa-uurrrrrrrrrrrrrr.

However...

our short history of the housecat
must also include
the tail being stepped upon

which translated into “Cat”
would read:
rrrryyeeeeeeeooooowwwwww!

Painful, yes.

But awakenings usually don’t happen softly.

© 2020, Michael R. Patton
40 New Fables: ebook

Sleeping with the Whale

author's note:

"Don't wake him up.  He's got insomnia--he's trying to sleep it off."
        -- from the Marx Bros.' A Night at the Opera


SLEEPING WITH THE WHALE

When I wake up
in the depth of night
I often feel a lump
--a whale hump--
beneath my dream pillow.

I'll then adjust my head
and shift and twist
but I can only ever get
semi-comfortable:

the truth is,
in my heart I sense
the beast waiting for me
beneath the waves...

even at rest we don't rest--

both day and night
we're learning
how to ride this whale.

© 2018, Michael R. Patton
what I learned while alone: poetry ebook

Extreme Enjoyment

author's note:

Once again, while working on a poem, I asked myself, "Is this really how it is?"

My conclusion?  To borrow from poet Mary Oliver: "these aren't just words talking".


EXTREME ENJOYMENT

I've tried and tried
yet still can't quite describe
"consciousness"

but with each attempt
I consider my experience
and in that way, reconnect
with what I feel:

how the flood of this world, this life
rushes at me from all four sides

rushes within me, as well--

rushes from me--I spill

out into the world
even as the world roars into me...

no wonder I work so hard to distract myself:

we sit at the table, sipping our sodas
and speak of that broken kitchen pipe

all the while ignoring
how consciousness overwhelms us.

Though I often wish I could turn down the tap...

I also know a stronger desire:
to open myself to ever-increasing
amounts of water

and I will open, I will
as I learn, ever-so-slowly
to enjoy the threat--

to surrender myself
to the steady magnificence
of the amount I can, at present
just barely accept.


© 2013, Michael R. Patton
SOULTIME