tonight

this autumn evening
is a dark window shade
a tinted glass of rich burgundy
sliced Gruyere
melted on crispy bread

a couch and three pillows
placed gently behind my back
by love itself

a blanket to warm
my old, cold bones
and seal in the joys
of the day

a fresh start

in the morning
the day is fresh sheets
on a clothesline
under the sun
in the cool, welcoming wind

it is raspberries
grown on a bush in your backyard
tart and sweet,
ready to eat

it is new and delicious
the air of possibllities
runs through each
waking minute

and you are alive today
this morning
you wake
on your fresh sheets
ready to pick raspberries

lost in the present

not sure what to say
or exactly how i got this way

landed in this place where
my name seems distant, unfamiliar
as if it is a dinosaur
stomping down the highway

my life, a dramatic television show
that I wrote myself
but I don't remember
all the lines


the words are all lost
and so i keep looking
in the distance

I read my cue cards

the producer mocks me

too fast

running out of time
running from time
that withered clock
with evil, ticking, heavy,
wrinkled spotted hands

that says things to me
like "back in the day"
and I am surprised
how long it's been since
high school ended

my hair now flat
no longer purple
i used to be fun, cool,
totally different

and now I am
part of the body
of the motion
of the slow and fast
travelling feet
that pounce the sidewalk
each day, responsible

and that round, creeping
clock speeds towards me
like a chicken running
from an axe

I laugh at you
dear clock
and your man made notion
and your weak, noisy
arms

I laugh at you
and smile
and am glad
i am not that teenager
with big, purple hair

i ignore you time
i deplore you time

i implore you time
slow down

Love

where does my love go?

to the plant
   that needs water
   the child at my feet
   my mature (sort of) husband

it is

    like a soft, stretchy blanket
    that fits around two sets of toes

the more there is
the more I feel
love, a resource, infinite
feeds only off of itself
no need for the crackle
of the day's sun
or a sprinkle of rain

love
    it is close
    and everywhere

a long way apart

i haven't danced
or said your name
face down turned
and not the same

a single look
or word or text
you know the story
i know the rest

i held you tight
you held me close
we sank together
a single ghost

still i see us
as it floats by
through the world
I question why

you were my
world
and I
your sky

now we are two
distant stars
warped in silence
forever far

it ended long ago

here's a verse
sad and true
wrapped in ribbon
just for you

ribbon red
world blue
tied in knots
over you

ink is blood
a leaking heart
it was trouble
from the start

paper's drenched
with salty tears
the wilted words
of founded fears

we lived, breathed
now nothing's left
but a straight smile
a heart bereft

if you could know
i'd tell you so

but you can't and
so I go

the struggling plant

under the bridge
a baby plant
yearns for light
it grows left and back right
stretches far
it's outta sight

tiny flower
you just might
be the tallest plant
I see tonight

you reached
you grabbed
at the air

stabbed
through the concrete
in the dark
you kept dreaming
of the park

now here you are
fairest of them all
beautiful green,
flowery and tall

bad hair day

rush aroundfly from here to there
wearing my hair wings,
a couple of rings

humid sparks
and flyaways
dream of sun
and better
hair days

in the mirror
i don't dare
to look, to stare
from here to there
i blink real quick
and then I duck

glad I looked
something's stuck
between my teeth
like a tiny branch
poking out
of a wreath

quick I rinse
look for floss
quick I blink
put on gloss

but i don't
stare
at my humid
hair
to my eyes
it wouldn't be fair

a story about my day

in a bland sort of daze
i anticipate being awake

it's always better than I expect
once a few hours pass

coffee
sugar
kids
the day speeds by
questions, rhymes, new slang to learn

today they said they would
"put me on"
to some new music

they learn
I learn
the world becomes new again

the end of the dark road

in the realm of reality
the real people recognize
the windy, rough road
is riddled with bumps
and filled with holes

as fast as one can
round a bend
one can become sucked
into a hole, tire first
or spit out in to the air

or rolled over
at a speed too fast
for life

i've seen this realm
of the rough and real
i live there usually
but beg to break from it
from time to time
to slow to the pace
of being human
to ignore the time,
forget the dark,
sit out under the light of the moon
on the swing at the park
and do no thinking
just swing
sway in the real wind 
upon the cold, metal seat
below me

comfortable in the fall,
night air

you were also
there.

two hands

energy
moves freely through
these two hands

carries light,
motion, water

a passion to warm
the soul
to heal the woe
of a day
that was just
like the last

a welcoming hug
lasting warmth
to move you gently
through
the next cold day

it's your birthday

mall walking
on his birthday
in new light-up
shoes

a not so distant
memory
of holding your hand

a smile brighter
than shoe lights
happy birthday to
me

before the world
filled up with
a child's giggles

a time that might
have never existed
is such a state
of amazement
if it was not for you
but it did
and you were there

and now i walk
in different shoes
with another man

and a boy
with the brightest smile
the flashiest song
a winning grin
and a song to
carry the day

Happy birthday
to me

an ode to water

in a timeless turn of events the
tide sways in silence
with foam to cover
its stealthy, tedious tracks

no one knows what its done
cares to assume its shame
its shameless, it splashes
through the cool day
the warm day
the day that's no longer here
but once was there

water everywhere
inside us...around us
moving us
      conducting us
             sustaining life
                      taking life

water the master
water a God

water a Goddess
deep in the misty night
awaiting a form

another day in the light

too many days pass
unnoticed
by the live man
that walks
immersed in the flow of time
the speedy passage of
fluorescent light
overwhelms him with its
harshness
its awakeness
its reminder
that he is again
today at his computer
in a cubicle
staring at pictures
of the people he wishes
he were with

he comes home
briefly says hello
shares dinner and a chat
and the day is gone
just like the one before
the one after it

his cubicle does not greet him
say good-bye
care if his eyes are weary
or his body aches

it is his rock though
always there
to get him through
another day of blind
un-thinking
or a monotonous view
of the parking lot

a place to call home
for the day

the way to a picnic

I arrived at the picnic

before i sat upon the blanket
   before i set foot upon the green grass that is the park
       before the burgers were served

i had a quiet and secret conversation with a stranger
while we waited for forty minutes for a bus that never showed

i ate breakfast with my two sons and three of their friends

i went food shopping for milk and eggs

A red-haired child sold me a candy bar as I left the store

I made potato salad

Back at the picnic
   I am tired and sit at a surprisingly cliche picnic table
      covered with a predictable checkered red cloth

the stranger from the bus stop smiles at me
from a distant table

Nothing else is said

a fun poem about a dream

i am underwater
i breathe next to you
no need for gills

the friendly lake
welcomes me
in its depths

we have a conversation
about something
or nothing

and it doesn't much matter
what we say

the glitter of life
sparkles among us
our words echo from
tadpole to toad
to seaweed to
a skipping rock above

we are the laughter
we consume it

we are underwater
laughing
about something
or nothing

it doesn't much matter

The next morning

on the top
the bird is perched

above the sky
amongst a cat-shaped cloud
it sings a melody
that rains down
upon the jaded world

it is heard
by a tall banker
he closes shop
shuts down fees
opens his eyes
afraid
of what he sees
he is on his knees

he prays
up to that same
periwinkle
sky
the bird hears him

the next tune
is for him
he hums along
moves away

the next morning
he sits atop
his humble cabin
prays up
to the periwinkle
sky

and sings along
with the birds' hymn

and the next and next

Everything

everything

the smile on a
child's face
at a pumpkin he's
excited to paint

the soft, brown earth
between barefoot toes

Christmas cheer

homemade pumpkin pie
enough to share

frosty cold breath
warmed by a kiss

darting from door to door
dashing to deliver
a sprinkle of joy
a plate of cookies
a handshake

lending a hand

holding hands
with you
with the three-year old
that calls himself
a dinosaur
a goat

everything

goodbye... your face

thinking of the way
I hate your face
hope to erase
its evil glare
its lack of care

i set it free
into the sea
away with you
you're not glue

and so its gone
your grin
and face
i've cast it far
from this place

better much
to set it free
than let it keep
a hold of me

a perfect stranger

under the guise of a smooth dancer
he glides onto the checkered floor
slides towards the red, painted door

a smile with a hidden smirk
recognized only by those who know
he's only here for the show

impeccable dark grey slacks,
button down, shined shoes, pressed tie
head to toe, dressed to die

in the evening,
under the glow of a dark, inviting moon
he promises to call you soon

as you turn away
his grey-blue eyes dip and wink
once you've had a chance to think


change your number

erase the memory
of his flawless face
forget you ever
went to that place

the small man

the small man
wallows in the second
that he did not win
withers under the rain
complains each day
about the weather,
the person at work,
the loud neighbor,
the kids in the yard...

the small man
eats alone at an old table
he refuses to replace
and so he gets a splinter
no one is there to help
so his finger swells
with infection

he goes to work
the next day
and complains

no one listens

he has nothing to look forward to

he passes away
while watching tv
from his battered chair
of a large splinter infection

for one moment

imagine
if for one moment
we all thought only kind words
thoughts of happiness

we all
let jealousy
regret
hatred
slip away
just as time does

in a blink
a millisecond
a rocket is launched
a child is born
a car crashes
a forest burns

a miracle occurs
a dead person lives

imagine
for one moment
we shut off the news
the tv
our phones

smile at the person
closest to us
share what we have
material
and mind

one world
mankind

kind

the daily visit

apart from darkness
light withers with no foil
into the midst of silence
a loud clang reverberates
heard in the distance
by the silent choir

children sing carols
and Jake, 84,
can't remember if his son
visited this year

His son visits every day
brings him his favorite
sandwich
for a moment a bite of a
tuna melt brings him
back

His son, filled with sadness,
feels his father's words
fill him

they, together, become
full with conversation
and a sandwich

the light fades
that single moment
between day and night
the faded haze
is perfect

the life of the secret

in a tunnel of darkness
secrets wander by
looking to be released
weary of the tired corners
of frozen minds

one becomes lost
too tired to hold on
it slips away
once it reaches light
its holder hides in shame

but it
it is now free
its holder is free

Shine

the fire's determination
out shined the water
doused the sand

the beach aglow
the children danced
upon the light of the earth
watched over by the Thunder Gods
of vivacity

 of life

of remembering to dream
that dreams are real

remembering to be real
to really care

we, a collection of small particles

we
    shine together
                        to move the world

the stifled life

built under bricks
of the knowledge of too much
a heavy head stagnates
against the cold slate

thoughts of being freed
from self-imprisonment
the desire to fight aside
the need to survive
in world fraught with
wretched decisions

forces fight back and forth
between the right thing
and the thing that is right
for now

Eyeball punch

a torn cloth
a splash of blood

a quickly sewn
bandage to
dress the hurried
party goer
 
for a night of eyeball punch driven
misguided memories
to haunt him for another year

a woman's walk through the 1800's

a fine day
in her fancy dress
a frolic down a woven path

one encounter with a suited man
a stare made of intent

a quick sneeze
his ironed kerchief
she gladly accepts

his stare becomes a  longing
that her hazel eyes return

in the distance
a church bell ringss
she silently curtsies

her legs, her mind
heavy with desire
for the long walk home


a veiled conversation
with her sister over
a delicate cup
of chamomile
puts her day to rest

a prelude to Halloween

the words that haunt
walk creepily up the stairs
creaking while speaking
    loud echoes in the mind

the ghosts in the walls
slip into the halls
through mirrors glossed
with faces of the lost

souls tossed
out broken windows
    muted voices still in the air
trapped in the wind

the soul's blanket

the blanket of the soul
is warm, wide...infinite
washes away fear
with valor

hate
with love

greed
with generosity

cruelty
with kindness

it grows with each
connection
soft and threaded,

a web of life and air.
of sweet whispers
of loud hurrah's
of you and  me's
two's and three's

of lakes, seas
flowers, trees
twine and lace
gloves and grace

small and great
it stays up late
into the cool, cool night
of tempted fate

under a fort
with a blanketed soul
keeps us warm,
keeps us whole.