Author Archives: Timothy P. Schilling
View from the Augustinus
Unburdened by apples
I took apples across
the country and back.
I didn’t shine them,
I didn’t eat them,
I didn’t even know I had them.
They lay hidden beneath
a coat in my bag.
They’re perfect, perfect,
potentially perfect.
May you, like me,
be unburdened by apples.
Love makes another scene
Going overboard again,
overdramatizing,
forgetting there are limits
to what people can take,
how they don’t want to hear it,
not in a restaurant
or ever,
all the fool convictions, thinking
she can fix things,
hoping again, when all we want
is to be left alone
Tree of knowledge
Vinex
Of tea and mementoes
He spoke and I listened
every time there and back
We wore
a deep path of memory
through the war and
subsequent years –
clockmaker stories,
composers,
my house and his
I could see mine
across the street
How much line?
How far do you let it go
before you reel it back in?
And how big is exactly
the fish you’re trying to catch?
And how smart and strong are you?
And can you swim?
Sunday afternoon
Thank you, Mr. Kays
I walked a metaphysic of trust,
that line of no width we posited at school.
There were no buildings on either end,
but you didn’t need them.
Once you could get
from a point to a line,
the rest was easy.
Planes rose to welcome your feet.
Utrecht Journal 