The Peregrine Muse

Poetry of Laurence Overmire

Really Weird

To you it seems

weird, strange

simply because perhaps

you haven’t allowed the time

for the thing to become



Confront the negative

to achieve a better

Hide and suffocate the negative

to destroy the promise
of the future.

Newton in a Bell Jar

The physical world is the hologram
of the spiritual
the psyche itself subject, in like law, to
the same pull of gravity
equal and opposite in reaction to
physical truth

We might say the world
is a mind unto itself
whereby we become
better than we are

The ordinary atom split
into a cosmos
too incredible

For words.

Toying with Eternity

The things that really matter in this world

Don’t pay a dime
Not worth the occupation
The trivial infinitely more
Compelling artistries toward
The buying and selling of widgets
Ignoring with the simple
Thumb of a childish nose

The things that really matter.

When Pilate Heard

The Word
Walked through the streets openly
Without fear

A threat to the rule and order
Of the time
Better to eradicate it quickly

Before it aroused the passions of the
Stirred peasants to revolt

Upset emperors in far-off
Dictates, wary of news
Brought by impertinent messengers

Surely, this crucifixion would be
A quick end to the nuisance
And the pressing business of the

Could continue without the slightest

Theories of Relativity

Absolute Truth

if there is such a thing
cannot be perceived
by humans with limited
we are pre-programmed
to see only certain things
a fraction of information
from an unqualified source
therefore we have
relatively speaking
only a relative understanding
relative to what we need to believe
relative to that great unknown
constant we call


The Parting

I am sad

for myself

why didn’t I take more time to
why wasn’t I there more often
why didn’t I express the
why couldn’t I be

time does not wait
too late
I am sorry
for myself

she is gone

and I left behind
am bereft
must weep
for myself
never to see her

but she has passed beyond
these mortal dying days
no more pain
no more fear
no more this fatal human
she is cradled in the loving arms of God
I must not weep for her
she is free

and I turning away from myself
finally know

death can never part the love
between two souls

she lives here yet within my heart
and will always


They believed
Life was not to be enjoyed, but
Endured, moment by challenging

Moment, and so it was
Until at last after so much
Struggle, the end came

And all that beautiful
Life, turned ugly
Seemed so far, far away.

Crystal Ball

I look into the future sometimes and see


My own and those I love

The sadness is overwhelming

The loss too great for pretense

The leaving of this world

The beauty of small things

The smell of grass

The touch of hand to cheek

The flight of a sparrow in the wind.

The time will come

There is no escape

There is only the living of every minute


In the fullness of what is, and

The truth of what must be.


Relationships are

built on

some difference to be

Overlooked as a matter
of course

In shared experience is
the bond

Suffering one-to-one
joy in similar things

These bring heart and soul
in line of commitment

A link to last
through and beyond all time.


I am the meditation of my soul

In solemn words my heart believes
The mantra of my existence

My death and life but a circle

‘Round a sound, soft breath
Peace in the stillness

No time, no matter, no place.


No one can be defined

   in a word

   or a sentence

   or a book

We are far too complex

   for short answers and glib remarks

The truth impossible to determine

   in the distorted read

   between blurring lines

   without glasses.

Forget the Prozac

Depression is the loco-motive

     off the track of soul

Careening into

Valleys of darkness

     crushed in gullies

Water rusting through memory

No way to retrieve

   the hopeless wreck

Without that crane of


The Word

There is a word



In the dark, back wayward recesses of my brain

The perfect word

That fits the cadence and the rhyme

The word

That makes sense of all

The confusion

The word

That wonderful word

Is waiting

And all that remains

Is for me

To find it.

Cold Driving Rain

It's raining

Cold driving rain

Commuters rushing home from work

Home to hubby, wife and family

Spot and Cleo

And a fire on the stove

Another day of brutal business

Accounts are squared

And errands run

No more phone calls

No more hassles

Watch some boob tube

Think of sex

Spare some change, sir

Spare some change, ma'am

I haven't eaten for three days

You haven't washed for three days either

Get a job, you dirty bum

I wonder how my stocks are doing

Shelter some money in a tax-free fund

Spare some change, sir

Spare some change, ma'am

Walk past quickly and ignore him

He just wants a shot of booze

Please sir

Spare some change, sir

And the rain keeps pouring down...

All is quiet on the street now
Two a.m. of a Tuesday night
All is quiet, all is peaceful
Save for the drizzling of the rain
Gently tapping
The lifeless body
Huddled on the pavement
Spare some change.


The poet bears witness to the soul journey
That's why I'm here
That's why some may need to hear.

To the pass of blood and bone
In the fire of the spirit.

The Wake of Destruction

The world would be a far better place

If decisions were based upon

What is good for humanity, instead of

What is good for the bottom line.

How difficult would it be -

To shift our way of thinking?


A complete reversal of fortune.

But it is after all

What the future requires

Our selfish commodities no longer

Worth the price.

The world is much smaller than it used to be

The old ways of ignoring those around us

Prevent us now from seeing the truth

Of who we are and must become.

The I’s Don’t Have It

I am limited by my language
I am limited by my culture
I am limited by my genes
I am limited

Until I walk outside my Self

See what a small creature “ I “ is

We laugh, all of us, together
A space infinite in its reach
Made glorious
By the resonance of our mirth.

Last Impression

Catch me quick

before the wave

rushing to the shore

comes to take me

The moon
pulling the wind through
my hair

All measure of who I was
in the whispering song of the surf
only footprints in the sand.

No Defense

The truth is often unwanted
Often undesirable

And in finding it

The pain associated
More than mortality can bear.

Same Beginnings

Religion dissects
One from another
Ideas of superiority and moral right

Spirit connects
One to another
The likeness of God imbued in heavenly faces.


Take a bite of the word
Both body and soul
The blood of my heart
Poured in goblets


All time contained
In a moment of giving
The bittersweet draught of life
Made holy
In the sharing.

Odds and Ends

I did very well with
The things I could control.
It was the things I couldn’t
That destroyed me.

My fate, it seems, was
Like most perhaps
A lifetime of misfortune.

The luck I needed
Could not or would not be

How does one reconcile
With a world order that is supposed
To make sense?

The key is to accept.
To live with grace
Despite the failing.

To not allow the quirk
Of a dispassionate universe
To snuff the spark
Of dignity, of surviving
In the face of insurmountable


The sea takes me back to that place

Before I was born

That primordial possibility that

Refused to yield an answer

The question itself was enough

The breeze upon my face

The dream of tomorrow awakening.

Shooting Star

The soul is connected
To the infinite
And carries the incalculable potential

To soar beyond
The confining limits of
Earth’s fatal gravity.

Divine Comedy

Consciousness is evolving

Becoming more aware

God creating Himself

Truer to the form

He once imagined.

Good and Bad

The strong negative is necessary

In order to see the redeeming positive


Heads and Tails

Foolish humans we

must realize

(at our peril)

in the course of diminishing time


opposites are merely


unlike sides of the same


Beastly Ideas

We humans like to think of ourselves
As being
Better than the animals
Smarter, and undoubtedly closer
To God.

Yet animals are forever true
To their God-given natures
Communicating well-enough
With canny precision
In languages we are perhaps

Too arrogant
To understand.


we feel
are we
what power
is there
to stem an invisible tide?

we grope
we hope
the rope
is cast
into the formless void
grab hold
the future is mapped
in determined presence
our thoughts
sing forth
like arrows
to still the implacable foe

proud Death
stand back

your hoary face need not intrude
while Life is yet

Wade in the Wave

Every stone I cast
on water ripples

to the edge of an unknown

and when in time
another stone skims past

the hand I know not
rippling why

the choosing of the rock

its color and touch
immortal, divine.

The Second Coming

You won’t believe me when I say this
Indeed I speak it still in fear
But the memory lingers with me, like the wound of a rusty nail
I saw the face of Jesus
Yes it’s true
No please don’t mock me
I did not believe it either, I did not recognize him at first
But then neither did the twelve in that dim ether long ago
His eyes were filled with love, inexplicable to me
And yet there was an anger and a sorrow, even fear
His hair was matted, rather dirty
And the clothes were worn and tattered, hardly elegant or refined
Yes, you laugh
And think I’m crazy
But I tell you that it’s true
I saw the face of Jesus
Imploring and alone
If only I’d seen him sooner, but I didn’t recognize him, you see
Till his body lay stiff and cold
Swaddled in the corner of the subway station, only ten or twelve years old
Homeless and forgotten
And believe me, you who will, with more venom than the Pharisees
Pontius Pilate and the rest
We have crucified Him


Turn to Stone

The Truths

     that are the hardest to look at

          are the ones

               that bear

The closest scrutiny.

It is what it is

Expect nothing


Accept everything

You will never be disappointed.

From Out the Head of Zeus

Life is inherently disturbing
That’s why we’ve created the myths

To help us overcome
Defend or deny

To transcend the grim reality
Of what here seems to be.

The Known World

According to quantum principles

2 objects
In separate and distinctly
Space and time
Can, in an instant
Communicate, give and take
Back and forth
Exchange of energy or
“Information signals” of
Any kind

Then somehow
I know this
Person I don’t know
Animal I can’t see
Plant I can’t conceive
We are
Together, at once
Connected and
Dependent, independently
One to each and every
One another.

Laurence Overmire, based in Portland, Oregon, is an actor, director and writer who has worked on stage, film and television on both coasts and in-between. He founded and produced The Writer's Lab in Los Angeles, a non-profit organization to foster quality writing in the entertainment industry. He has also conducted arts programs for schools and other organizations, including Lincoln Center Institute in New York City. In 2007 he launched Indelible Mark Publishing to present quality work in the literary arts. Laurence's poetry has been widely published in the U.S. and abroad, and on sites such as Kimera, Shadyvale, Art Villa, Ygdrasil and This Hard Wind. Laurence also presents his poetry on his website.