For Robin Williams

 

This seems a funny time to die

right when everything stops working,

play disappears

with terminal humor.

So, is anyone left out there?

Is anyone home

devouring the last bite of this American pie?

 

I often laughed til I cried

addicted tears of joy

for faith in where we meet

our longing just to join.

 

I cannot belong here anymore.

Incarnation pulls and tears

addicted to this power of faith

we belong back together,

a jigsaw puzzle cast astray

with no pieces missing

except me, somehow

sometimes

some place?

 

Where is my place

when spacetime greys to fog

enclosing colored laughter

in joyless tomb of  mutual decomprehension?

 

This could be a happy time to die

a final song to reach front page

screaming waves of not so solemn

remembering

religioning

togathering Earth and Sky,

death with hope,

tear flowing night

of dark ecstatic be-longing.

 

If I could,

it it would be enough for you,

I would burn my soul

to reach you.

Could we laugh our soul

to teach us once belong a time?

 

Good morning, america…

this seems a funny time….