New Blog

wandrewgibbens.wordpress.com

Same Name, Different Ones and Zeroes.

New Poems

Happening Frontier

It so happens, sometimes,
that eyes peer into and
past, and nothing familiar

is seen. Worried, as such,
the look excavates reaching
truths, and still,

only frontiers.
Intrigue scatters off to
clumsiness and it's all
hands up in the air;

shoulders shrug, and,
if careless, navel gazing
recommences.

Close

You wouldn’t know
at right off,
right before you,

that I’d like nothing
less than some

direct, tough questions.
It’s not, but it is
this public’s penchant

for vacillation,
gerrymandering voices,
that would have me seem
opaque
—at second glance.
Should we come close…

the breezes may break;
nothing seems to point
there, yet.

Interprative Verse of a Jack Tale About a Wishgiver

Quick thoughts don’t come too quick.

All the time you’ve got to think, so
much so that you can even let others
think for you so you know what
thoughts you might need to have.

See, we don’t always see things the
way others see them. Right there
in front of us, see right there, is someone
else’s sight seeing the same thing
and something different, something
you probably need to see.

One day you’re going to find yourself
hoping, thoughts coming quick but
un-distilled, stagnating, eclipsing fine things,
and unless you see someone else’s hopes
measuring yours, it’ll just be your own wishful
thinking full only of yourself.

Else you’ll be eating at an empty table
set with shiny plates of sad gold.