A Rhythmic Electric Circus of Sound Part 66 (A.R. E.C.O.S Part 66)

By Perry Shepard

Perry Shepard's poetry compilation, A Rhythmic Electric Circus of Sound Part 66 (A.R. E.C.O.S Part 66), dives into the many aspects of his insights into human thought and experiences. Presented in a diverse colorful language, the reader is drawn in and compelled to see themselves in new and old ways.  

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• Language: English
• Publisher: Anamcara Press LLC
• Release date: Dec 13, 2020
• ISBN: 9781941237656

Book preview

DEDICATION—

This book of work is dedicated to all the poets whose work I have read through the years. I also want to give credit to M. Shepard my wife and faithful editor who questions the words I use. Her help makes every poem I write clearer and a better read. I also want to acknowledge my brother and fellow writer D. Shepard. My thanks to poet P. Abe who allows me to read my work to him and for the insight he shares. I also need to thank the poets who keep inspiring me to continue to write. This book explores the human condition in its many forms, colors, and emotional conditions that bring the circus of sounds to you.

PART I—VARIATIONS ON THE SELF

Feeling Large

There are times

After a day of life

I stand out in the yard

Letting the wind

Take me away.

Standing still, I see

Trees bending excitedly

While the wind sweeps

Into my soul.

I stand- realizing,

Becoming-

The earth, wind and

The sky, as clouds hide

The moon from vision.

I stand with the sky-

I stand with the moon-

I breathe in the universe,

Standing so large, so connected.

Where the Wind Stands Still

There comes a time

Where the wind stands still.

It is at this point

I lose my balance.

The snow cushions my fall

And I lie silently

Frozen in the place

Of my making.

Strange, summer was just here.

And now I am stranded

In a desolate landscape

That looks clean and sterile.

Oh yes, I own all I see,

I live all I feel-

How did my decisions

Bring me to this place?

I traveled through fear,

I labored- and labored,

I nurtured the quest

Yet, I am at the time

Where the wind stands still

I was never wind blown

Even though I liked to jump

Off cliffs.

In the early days

It was easy.

Now I ask myself, rather

Remind myself-

There was a purpose to what came-

There is a purpose

To all that is and is to come.

Yet I question all futures, for-

I have seen them come and go.

Complicated and expansive

They seem ephemeral now-

That I remain frozen in this place.

Even as I breached time and space,

I let the vapors slip

Through my mindfulness.

I lost mentorship of