Monday Night (28 August 1995)

Wired on chocolate, de-cafe and chat

Stripped raw after two days on a cushion, sitting, breathing

Aware of my quirks

Seeing myself in action

Watching men, lusting after men

Dulled from the lack of a hot connection

Where to put this energy

Hot and sweaty on a Monday night.

-- Larry Wolf (1995)

[Posted 2025]

Two Poems for Jim (12 August 1995)

(1)

One breath

Haltingly continuing for days

Moments alive, fragile, transparent

No room for illusion

Each tick of time measures the infinite

Worlds expand in the stillness and collapse

Repetition numbs

Polishes features with constant drumming

Reflects the subtle flicker

Life dances across the surface

My own breath remains

The silence roars with the missing echo

Change irreversible

At the pivot, no words

(2)

In the silence

A grand pirouette

Draws in the audience

Sucks diversion from their minds

And holds them

Suspended beyond time.

-- Larry Wolf (1995)

[Posted 2025]

The Language of Life (9 August 1995)

There is much for

humanity to learn about

every one of us.

Little children

are just as aware of the struggle to form word from sense --

no one who lives is not a poet.

Granted, some feel more

urgently

all the rhythms of life in a

glorious ramble of rhymes

everlasting.

Our own voice, unique,

flows with a pattern reflecting private thoughts.

Luminous

inquisitive

frivolous fabulous --

every one of us.

-- Larry Wolf (1995)

[Posted 2025]