Disorderly Conduct

the fog seems a bit
thicker than normal
but then what is that

vertigo ensues mislaid sight
and clearly the hard thump
of reality a result of accidentally
executed turns for better or worse
but mostly the latter
triggers a cardiac response

in which even the slightest
becomes the fuel of frenzy
stealing away the very breath
of life in an odd backfire burnout

deafening silence falls
like ash laden snow
still feeling the heat
gripped in fear that even
the smallest peep may
reignite the inferno

where hours pass and days add up
lost in contemplation
of a ridiculous nature
plotting and planning
things that never take place

until sunrise burns off the fog
and things return to normal
but then what is that

Katovski©2015

A Mid Summers Night

it is but a mid summers night
dancing amongst the stars
amidst such dreams of dreams
of past and present with futures
yet to unfold
hanging in suspended animation
behind eyes gently shut
enjoying such pleasantries
of situations beyond the grasp
to which we are able to control
letting go and just letting
floating flowing with the celestial tide
whose cross current lends us
to numerous possibilities
planets aligned to form a star
or that which was perceived as such
the sun and moon set and rose
in this evenings blood red dusk
and now if only dark
would become just dark enough
once upon this mid summers night
for us to open our eyes and see the stars
Katovski©2015

When Sleep Finds Me , Not

Seconds drudgingly
tick off the clock
waiting to find minutes
that agonize the hours
spent in overwhelming
quiet of the night

eyes wide open
lost in thought
wondering about everything
except for sleep

the act of lying down
triggers a nightly
insomniatic episode
where everything
that didn’t hurt in the light
crashes the party
ready to fight

reliving all
of my yesterdays
while planning
tomorrows alteration

when sleep finds me, not

Katovski©2015

Vision

as everyday sight
becomes such a struggle
I wonder without worry
what it will be like
to have the comfort of dark
without the pain of light
or even to have vision
while having not sight

for one aids
in personal movement
while the other opens
dimensions of worlds unexplored

too often beauty is defined
as something seen
giving momentary
satisfaction to the flesh

where true vision touches
the spiritual realm
satisfying the soul

Now
I may see you as beautiful
but are you?

Katovski©2015

Having Seen Enough

So I sit here
looking out through a window
thinking deeply about all
that I have seen

the experiences found
in such imagery
take the breath away
to where finding beauty
clearly becomes a possibility

reflecting reflections
of non mirrored objects
sifting out dreams from realities

standing atop a mountain
draped in clouds
yet seeing such a mystical sight
before me to which perception
of imagination found me walking
the stratus highway to the next peak

Rainier, Blanc, Matterhorn, Eiger,
Denali, and Everest all but dreams
lived only through the words of others
unfulfilled due to situations
beyond mortal control

reminiscing in my minds eye
fond memories of sitting
in creeks and streams
scooping up hands full
of semi-precious stones
in their most beautiful raw form

seeing eagles pluck fish
from rivers before my very eyes

falling in love with the kingdom
of the wild so much so as to lay down
my weapons to enjoy earths bounty
in a visual feast

swimming in three
of this worlds oceans and seas
before the poison of humanity
became so apparent in its
evaporation. setting into motion
a toxic cycle of transference

wondering now about the safety
of this worlds aquifers
not just from the chemical
poisoning of ground water
but that of statements based
entirely in greed
saying, ” that water is not a
basic human right”

thinking back then thinking forward
to the notion of what the last world war
will be fought over WATER!

I worry about the legacy
that is being left for generations to come
and even though my personal list
of things to do and see
is far from complete
I think maybe I have seen enough

Greed is stronger than my voice alone
hatred is a vicious by product of greed
and is used to empower the few
to distract the many
in its insatiable lust to control
the one world in which we all live

humanity has quickly become
its own plague of locusts
consuming the earths resources
with wild abandon never considering
to consequences of depletion
not understanding that all
things are not renewable

two vital ingredients of
all organic life on this planet
clean water and fresh air
seventy one percent of the
earths surface is covered
with water, most of that is ocean
fifty to eighty five percent
of the oxygen that we breath
comes from tiny ocean plants
called phytoplankton
yet the oceans have become the
dumping grounds of the human race

governments worry about something called
global warming and they talk about greenhouse gas
while they blindly allow the killing of the
largest single source of oxygen

there are one thousand six hundred forty five
people in this world that control
seven point five billion others

I am just one small voice
just one watchman crying out
how many of the multitude
are listening how many are crying out

how many are looking out a window
thinking deeply about all that they have seen
how many can say they have seen enough .

Katovski©2015

Look Beyond the Hate

Look deeply with me
way down deep
far below anger, jealousy
and self pity
even deeper past hatred

way, way down deep
where the dreams lie
then find your dream
it’s the pursuit of dreams
that can individually heal us
Billy Mills

It starts here
imagine a world
where individual dreams
are embellished by
the dreams of others
where they are not judged
by pre-set pre-packaged
standards of merit

but within the diverse
populous of this world
there are great expectations
and even greater disappointments
allowing indifference to creep in

yet misconceptions of religion, systems
of belief , and cultural differences
coupled with a complete
unwillingness to understand
create fear and the fear of change

of fear and loathing
fear, is the greatest of two evils
for without one the other
would fail to exist

when we fear something
that is new, unusual or diverse
we cling to things that later
will become symbols of hatred
in the eyes of the varied

instead of digesting the ego
and listening to gain understanding
stubborn misconstrued conclusions
become the manifestos to which
hate controls the lives of so many
and we become the product
of our own choices.

when I see groups of haters
doing what they do
I see people who have yet
to look deep enough
to find where the
dreams lie

Katovski©2015

Mixture

tis a good night
for certain mixtures of ingredients
finding solace in nothing in particular
bored in fact with this dimension
where time is but a loop and history
has become an ever repeating myth

needing a preparation
for which to close my eyes
long enough, affording a cross
dimensional jump far past
my anger for this world
to somewhere, anywhere
that peace may be found

such pleasantries of escape
are often hijacked by the
voices speaking too loudly
within the confines of my head
where even the loudest music
fails to drown them out

hence the necessity for elixirs
designed specifically to shut them up
allowing for an enjoyable transition
into a new world far enough away
from the pain that sent me jumping
to find the patience I lost so long ago

it is a good night
for certain mixtures of ingredients

Katovski©2015

Time Capsule

I’m in a car on a plane
in a bus on a ship
or a supersonic train
bound for somewhere
anywhere no where
lost in space or time
within it’s continuum
keeps moving forward
yet momentum balters 
on its pendulum
grinding time to an
individual halt
whether standing sitting
kneeling or lying
alone is alone 
from here I can hear you
I can see you
and times clock does tick
but only for you
this inner world imploded
entrapping me within its
silent vacuum
where the clock flat lines
at twelve without a
post or ante meridiem
lost in such relativity
where everything is nothing
and nothing is everything
drifting further from reality
to a simple truth
where time moves all around me
and no man is an island
except for the capsule of time
in which I am imprisoned