Poem: Existential Conversations–IV. Death

Dear John Paul
You wrote of death
As the definition of life
To which they declared
You an eternal pessimist

Poem: Existential Conversations–III. Freedom

we are free to choose
responsible to decide
how we are to live

Poem: Existential Conversations–II. Meaninglessness

Scribbles of thought line plans
On human consciousness
Marking out ambitions to follow
Of grand designs of existence
Dreams of carving deep names
Into Yggdrasil lasting forever

Poem: Existential Conversations: I. Isolation

“We’re alone,” she says.

“No we’re not,” I responded to her.
I gesture at the café full of people,
she looks down into her empty cup.

“No, I mean we are alone.”

“I’m here with you.”
I smile and reach for her hand,
withdrawing it she looks out the window.