Post by Category : Poetry


Conspiracy Theory

Certain patterns emerge.
Here and there can always be linked.
Clues will be withheld, so guess again.
Timing is everything.
When comes next to how
and where is very helpful.
Isn’t there complicity in proximity?
The sharp edges of vision
get us to the grocery store,
but are of no help
in looking behind, below
where reasons live
crowded in a dark hold.
What is intended?
There are so many starting points.
Why don’t we know?
The world works without us
and could fail us
without further notice.
Who rolls the dices?
(Somebody knows something!)
Close your eyes,
what starts as a whisper
can become a sing-along and
the pattern of the certain
can feel divined.

Copyright 2021, Mylor Treneer
All Rights Reserved



We are small in bodies
that sculpt perception
with the clay of memory.

We cannot look around the corner.
Mismeasure is our ken,
improvisation our best hope.

God enjoys full presence
and cannot be surprised.
God will never get a joke.

Somehow that makes me feel better.

Copyright 2020, Mylor Treneer
All Rights Reserved