Poem – Page 6 – Kevin Trent Boswell

Nighttime

Trouble in the nighttime fell
Upon the too wakeful brow
Which ought to sleep⠀

Coins cast in tainted well
Uncertainty of where and how
Enough to cause anyone to weep⠀

Pitching gold piece of its own, ⠀
Came an angel of repose and rest ⠀
With the curious question whispered quiet⠀

Myriad things, all unknown
How is it that you’re certain you’ll fail the test?⠀
Without a shred of doubt, that might deny it?
⠀
Of course, no good answer was there for this
And searching, a mind grew sore and tired
Eyes heavy, in downward creep⠀

The angel placed a soft, loving kiss ⠀
Upon empty head, thoughts all expired ⠀
Drifting peacefully now into the deep

From the book remission by Kevin Trent Boswell

cloud

cloud shake supple form
dew lands on misty flower
wrinkles in the wind, fall under iron
hot press rolls up over the side
walnut stretch for top-shelf stuff
reaching compromise with ease
turn slow corners in empty fields
fuss about in meadows of stars
bring soft, rolling machines to halt
sparkling drops on screens of vivid color
artist hangs entropy on an invisible wall
a nail and suspension by a string of atoms
and galaxies, galaxies
tumble each into mixing bowl
of temporal whims, yesterday’s revisions;
tomorrow’s schedules
beat the terrain with a stick
until it whimpers and submits
consenting to its new ruler
that wand of trickling rain
pounds hard against a pulpit
of earthy laughter
notion falls still
serenity takes its stand;
refusing all other
voices,
since no other
offers
as much

From the book Chaos Comes Apart by Kevin Trent Boswell, published in 2020

Lights Out

When the streets go dark
And the lines go down

Every choice comes
Racing back

Flooding the mind
With harsh judgments of
Prior judgments

Kicking oneself for
Not making better

More solid

Less shortsighted
Decisions

The trumpet in the skull plays
Brass tack blues

But there’s no time for tears

For the Angel still stoops low,
Her finger touches the surface of the sea

The waters rise and boil

And scarlet and ash cover the sky

Speech is all garbled,
Unintelligible noise

And the tower falls

Prayers simplify,
Becoming bread,
Water, candles

A second set of
Eyes and hands,
More bullets

The stranger outside
Does not look
Friendly

And yet, he is
Less dangerous
Than the one
Who does

empire

the universe is
collapsing
as far as we’re
concerned

but we’re not
concerned,
not the least little bit

we’re too busy
chasing stars
all thumbs, hearts,
and digital dollars

one of the first things
to go
when an empire
collapses
is education
and art

wait,
but that’s
two things

I know,
now do you see
what I mean?

propaganda becomes
less obvious and harder
to detect

after that, the laws change,
censorship and
surveillance tighten

people become
more divided
than ever before

extreme right and left,
each with a few correct answers
and a whole bunch of lies

and each side is
convinced
that the other is
100% wrong

“our team couldn’t possibly
“be incorrect about anything”

the enemy
is no longer
at the gates,
but now lives
next door

no one can sleep
for fear of the news

but the grocery store
is still reasonably
well-stocked
for now

lately, at night,
I look up at the stars

if I wasn’t certain it wasonlymy imagination, Iwould swearthat thedamnthings were squeezingclosertogether

Dimwit

Meanwhile,
In Lala Land,

My stupid ass
Decided to
Try again

Auger

Fortune favors the…

Wait.

Who does fortune favor, again?

I forget

The bold or the cautious?
The wary? The chary?
The careless or the fearless?

A courageously optimistic, confident hero
And a goddamned foolhardy idiot
Look the same on the outside

Come to think of it,
Their internal dialogues
Sound pretty damn near identical

The shrewd planner, clever strategist,
The shrinking violet and sniveling coward
Are all eerily similar,
When you look only at their actions

But their uniforms are different

And they use very different processes
For making choices

Ironically, it no longer matters
Who is who or who does what

Because no one is able to discern
The difference anymore

It takes a modicum of intelligence
To identify intelligence

And unless people are able to
Identify intelligence,
They cannot accurately assign motive
To any person’s actions

And if people can’t
Effectively interpret
Positive intentions
From negative machinations

Mistakes will be made

Many mistakes

These days,
Anything good that happens

Is a minor miracle,
A happy accident

People bumping around in the dark
Trying to trade for things they need
And steer clear of things that terrify them

Ever tried to casually ask a stranger
If they could break a twenty
In a pitch-black alleyway?

That’s modern life,
Even when the lights are on

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