Haunted


Something moves
Within these walls,
Something,
Here,
Now,
With me,
In this room.

I fear this sorrow,
This dark, thick melancholy,
Singing ragged and out of tune,
Stuck,
Obsessed,
Familiar.

Something moves
Within,
Something,
Here,
Now,
A face in the mirror
That knows me,
That is not mine.


~ Russ Allison Loar
© All Rights Reserved

Go Gently


Go gently into that good night
For it is no darkened sleep
That comes in the passing there,
No closing of the day,
No dying of the light.

Go gently into that good night
For you have received the gift
And have no need to complain.

Life goes on
In ways we cannot imagine.
Life goes on
In ways we cannot explain.


~ Russ Allison Loar
© All Rights Reserved

Give Me The Passing Stranger


Friends are delicate creatures
And require delicate care.
Give me the passing stranger,
My middle finger in the air.


~ Russ Allison Loar
© All Rights Reserved

Contact


Imagine you are from another world,
An explorer.
As you journey through the Milky Way
Your radio wave detector locks on to a signal,
A signal from planet Earth.

It is your charge to seek signs of intelligent life,
Aided by a spacecraft traveling from point to point,
Eliminating all intervals between departure and arrival,
No longer needing to fold time and space.

You decipher the radio waves
Embedded with random records of humankind,
A people prone to conflict and violence,
Whose entertainments are filled with conflict and violence.

Your spacecraft is cloaked,
Invisible to Earth telescopes
While you study these earthly beings,
Their strengths and weaknesses,
The global conflicts
Without resolution,
The suffering
Without resolution,
The steady destruction of the planet,
Without resolution.

After all your studying is through,
Would you make contact?
Would you dare?



~ Russ Allison Loar
© All Rights Reserved

Happiness Has Wings


Happiness has wings
Of dust
And light,
So fragile,
Just a thought
Can tear them from the sky.


~ Russ Allison Loar
© All Rights Reserved

The Gentleness Has Gone


The gentleness has gone from our lives,
We are too busy for it now.
Our lives are loud, brash and bold
And our children grow up without parents,
Playing on cement.


~ Russ Allison Loar
© All Rights Reserved