free verse – Page 5 – Kevin Trent Boswell

Throat

I only want for you
To feel the warm waters wash over you
To drop down deep
into the well of experience

There’s no need to touch the depths;
It’s only down there
For those who truly desire the taste

Will you drink of the fountain,
Before you feel the insatiable thirst?

I don’t know when
The need will come

Or how you’ll work in
The solution,
But you can,
If you really want to,
Ride the whole wave down

Right down to the bottom,
Where the most
Pleasurable monster
Is waiting
To slurp your entire being
Right down its
Hungry throat

You may find it easier
To surrender to the creature
And its complete
Consumption of you
Than you had previously
Imagined

storage space

it does not require
very much square footage
to store melancholy

it fits neatly
inside of an eye

discouragement will
fit perfectly
in the bottom
of one shoe,
ennui in the other,

and you’ll still have
wiggle room
for your toes,

as you walk around
no place special,
all by yourself

loneliness doesn’t
take up much space

it fits easily
into a single
empty hand

Foregone Inconclusive Executioner

Not the brightest of men,
I have walked into walls,
Chasing pleasant illusions,
Elusive pleasures

But even I,
Tiny bean brain that I may be,
Have enough sense
To stand back from the flames,
To stay clear of fires that
Rage beyond my control

Red, blustery, passionate,
These rueful waves of the sun
Crackle against the marbled rings
Of Kronos’ cold steel slave rings

The hard master yields nothing easily

I can summon enough sense
To feed myself when my bones
Become brittle with hunger

But I cannot make a meal
Out of the dust and dry reeds
Of another’s feverish pangs

There is no sustenance in another’s
Temporary fits of dissatisfied craving,
The ghoulish haunting caused by
Dwelling in the discontent of
A desiccated shell, which they are
Reluctant to abandon

When war swings its broadsword
At the throat of its enemy with full vigor

And the enemy,
Equally skilled in the art of slaughter,
Parries with a great sword
In just the knick of time,
At a perfect right angle,
There will inevitably come
A clanging sound most awful

Sparks will pour off steel weaponry
Sweat and cruel words will fly,
And the thirst of demons is slaked
With someone’s blood

The only question is, “Who’s blood?”

The answer is always the name of
Someone stupid enough
To stand too close to the fray

Such a someone does not
Keep their name very long

The surgical procedures
Of iron, hatred, and discontent
Removes the name like a tumor,
Placing it in a small wooden box and
Burying it in the yard, like a dead bird,
A former family pet who
Gave up the ghost

Except, that the bird was well-loved, and
Grieved for after its passing

The name of the fool who stands
Between plumes of martial fire
And the incontinence of the unhappy
Is quite unceremoniously
Peeled from the imbecile’s face and
Dropped in a shallow grave
With all the careful consideration
A person observes when tossing
A banana peel into the garbage

A miserly liver of life,
Who cherishes comfort above all else,
Will angrily slit the throat
Of one who offers them a cup of wine,
When the skinflint is busy
Swearing to the deliciousness
Of the sand in their parched throat

A plate of fresh fruit and venison
Is smacked hastily from the hand,
When offered to the prisoner
Who enthusiastically requests
A second helping of gravel and worms

No, it is far wiser to step back

Stay clear of one who is firmly committed
To the cause of consistency,
Merely for convenience’s sake

Let the dice, lightning bolts, and swords
Fall where they may;
So long as it is not upon your neck

A Ridiculous Thing

Don’t worry, you will love no part of it;
It’s certain to please, someone, somewhere

Possibly and definitely, maybe
No one who isn’t everyone, but is

Enter the theater of the absurd

And words… did I mention…
There is words; there are many word

A poem, a bit of a slight,
A sleight of hand, poetic
Stream-of-consciousness to commence
Leaning into the background
A handy little bit of conscience, handed
Down onto the foreground and landed
And not the slightest bit of it
Made any sense,
Not one single mode or section

Reason completely escaping detection
And hence,
Thoroughly not the throughout…
It’s good
And it’s okay if you realize that it isn’t
Okay to be good at detecting
That it is, but only when you know
That it might be

Peek behind the floor
There’s nothing under the door
And someone is beside the rug,
Shrugging at the sound of the wall
And laughing at all the empty windows

We might have just enough time
To do everything
With the rest of the nothing

No one needs an excuse to be a poem

A poem is an utterly meaningless,
Ridiculous thing,
And everyone has
Every bit as much right
To be one
As I do

locus

weighted dice spilling from broken jaws

tainted allegories and
flawless renderings of the invisible

dry beans pour out of sacks
onto tables of diamond and ivory

an abacus of emeralds,
strung on strands of horsehair

a tiny pewter coin sits
atop a scale of solid silver
resting on a column of solid gold

pristine smudges of chocolate
on acrylic peanut butter tapestries

buckets full of comets kicked over
and showers of sparks
falling on the floor

it’s enough to fill
the silos of the universe
top to bottom

but is it enough?

each individual grain of sand
grates against another;
all are dutifully counted

the hourglass is emptied
of all its inexorable empires

excuses are forged from breath,
and hammered into the sacred elixir
of nothingness

there is no motion
in this river’s torrent

the asphalt streets stole it all,
sold it to capricious eels
who swim in desperate candlelight

germinating helixes
bristling thorn vines

funneling promising poisons
into the infant mouths
of ageless behemoths
who rule small places

culmination is the beginning
of the termination of endings
and the siphoning off
of all the intermittent middle bits,
the ones that,
as an afterthought,
we tacked onto the ends
in carefully coordinated haste

the endeavor,
doomed from the outset

thank goodness
we never embarked upon the journey
and that we saw it through
all the way to the end

we can scarcely contain ourselves
from raving about
what raucous ecstatic bliss
it was, from the pistol start
to the razored end

steal the serpent’s fangs

replace its venom
with politesse
and useless smalltalk

watch giddily
as it pathetically
gnaws and gums
unproductively at its prey

we dare not speak
of our elusive mysteries,
not to the droll, sour, uninitiated brood,
lest they discover our secret formula
of beginning in the middle
and ending at the front part
of the second third half
of each hind quarter,
but only on Thursdays,
except on leap years of an august May

the excitement would surely
be too much for their frail constitutions,
and over dead, they would drop down,
into new incarnations
of ceaseless wonder

and when, if so,
would any of it
ever cease?

take care,
that none of this ever occurs,
except for those precious few times
that it unavoidably does not

dial back
the wilting clock
and try not to
try again

The music and poetry of Kevin Trent Boswell.jpg

I See You

To my friends
Who strive to be
Better than you were
Yesterday

I want you to know that
I see you

And I appreciate you

At times, I have been wrong;
Many, many, many times,
I have been
Wrong

On a few occasions, I have been the bad guy

Out of fear, I did things I wasn’t proud of;
Things I’m deeply ashamed of,
Things I hold myself accountable for,
So I don’t do them again

Sometimes, out of frustration,
I was lazy, apathetic, etc.

But I haven’t allowed myself to stay stuck,
Mired in those states indefinitely

I have not been a troll,
Picking fights for the sake of fighting

I ask myself, “Which part of my beliefs
“Are based on shoddy thinking?”

I ask myself, “In what ways have I been
“Less than kind, greedy, or negative?”

And many of you
Have been the inspirations
For my wanting to be
Better than I was

Even when I failed,
Your examples still served
As valuable anchor points
For me to get up and
Try again

I have kept a mental list
Of my friends and acquaintances
Who strive to be
Simultaneously
Excellent and kind

I want you to know that
I see you

And I appreciate you

I know you do your best
To hear both sides
Of important discussions

I know you read books and articles

I know you seek information that is
Outside of your usual echo chambers
To help you be well-informed and
As unbiased as possible

I know you become discouraged,
The same way I do,
When you see the stupid things
That people post, say, and defend

Things so easy to disprove
It’s ridiculous,
And yet, they stick to their beliefs
Like glue

I know you, too,
Throw up in your mouth a little
When people display
An unshakeable belief of,
“My feelings are just as valid as your facts.”

Feelings are a thing
They have many of,
And most of them are
Completely out of proportion
With the reality of the various situations

And facts are things that
They only have a scant few of

I know that many of you have
A vast education under your belts

Some of you are writers or educators
Some of you are scientists or musicians
Some of you are entrepreneurs
Some of you are esotericists
Or mathematicians
Or you are in mental health

Or you work in any of
Dozens of other areas that all require
Brains, determination, and a
Delicate balance of empathy and
Fearlessness

Whatever you do, I take note of how
You have an excellent understanding
Regarding your particular fields of study

Some of you have a Bachelor’s degree;
Others have a Master’s or Doctorate;
Some only have an Associate’s;
Some of you barely finished high school,
Or you got a GED,
Or you dropped out

But even those who dropped out
Have more of a
School of Hard Knocks education
Than some who have Master’s degrees

What you all have in common is that
You don’t hide behind
Your credentials

You mention them only when
It’s essential to do so

You didn’t stop learning

At no point did you decide that
You had “arrived,” or that you
Could no longer learn something
From someone half your age

At no time did you conclude that you are
Wiser, more intelligent, or more righteous
Than anyone else

Because
You aren’t competing
With anyone else;
Only with yourself

I see that quality in you

And I humbly bow
To that aspect
Of your nature

I see most people barking at each other
From places of fear, bitter hatred,
Ignorance that refuses to be corrected,
And from places of privilege;
People who cannot or will not
Show compassion for those
Who did not have the same advantages

And then, I see YOU

And the difference between
You and them is like
Night and day

You quietly go about your lives
Being friendly, but
Standing up for yourselves
And for others

More importantly,
You do it without any pretentiousness,
No “holier than thou” attitude

And I gotta say,

You fuckin’ rock.

I see you apologize
When you were rude,
Without habitually
Repeating the offense

I see you admitting when
You didn’t know something,
And graciously thanking someone for
Politely educating you about it

I also quietly assign you cool points
When some vulgar troll tries to
Rudely school you
Or assassinate your character
And you smack them down,
Put them in their place,
Without stooping
To their level

Some of you do this by
Sticking to the facts,
Some of you just block them,
And some of you utilize your
Wicked, rapier wit to
Eviscerate them

And I smile

And yes, there are many things that
I’m incorrect about,
And many of you are
Much more knowledgeable
In these areas than I am

And there are a few things
That I know more about
Than you do

But we
Give each other
Respect

Because
We both know in our hearts that
Each of us

Is sincerely trying
Much harder to

BE RIGHT

Than to merely

Appear right

I appreciate the times when you
Are patient with my stupidities,
Of which I have many

I appreciate the times
When you could have
Decimated me in an argument
Because I didn’t know
What the hell I was talking about

But you didn’t ridicule me,
You just pulled me aside and
Politely shared some
Of your wisdom with me

I see the “average” people
Who are genuinely well below
What average used to be

And they want to be rewarded
For their mediocrity

Then, I see YOU

Sharing your excellence,
Your experience, your humor,
Your charm, your skill, and your kindness

And you ask nothing
In return

I see you

And you

Keep me

Going