May 13, 2021

Do you know those cactus flowers that only bloom for one day?

What I think of as being myself 

is only my brain staying busy. 

There is no ‘jobe.’ 

It’s the same with time. 

There is no more yesterday, 

and tomorrow does not exist; 

there is only now. 

So what is real? 

The heat of the afternoon. 

The sounds of the finches in the jasmine. 

The cloudless blue sky.


Immortal soul? How absurd. 

We are flashes of lightning, 

random, lovely, and dangerous. 

We are those cactus flowers 

that bloom for only one day 

and then disappear forever. 

Why waste your time 

imagining more time? 

Bloom, you mad bastards!



Ren Powell

Bait the Lines

Hardcore Zen

haiku eye

The Urban Mermaid

HOOT, a monthly literary magazine on a postcard

The Slowdown

clay and branches


Summer's End

Medusa's Kitchen

The Middlewesterner

The Morning Porch/Patio

VIA NEGATIVA, purveyors of fine poetry since 2003


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