sideways through the door-
way
i stay that way
a crooked direction
makes everything clear
usually you go back
and left and forward and left
and left again - the curve
of a branch goes on and on,
and snaps sometimes
in a sudden way
the force of the wind
a fat owl
a heavy, wet snow
a leaping child
has made it to the top
and now the tree
waits
Friday, November 27, 2015
Saturday, November 21, 2015
nothing, everything
when nothing appears
not justice,
not a friend,
not the sun.
you dream, you think
of something
a star, a thought
of the person you last
shared a coffee and cigarettte
with outside in
the rain while your coats
became soaked sponges
absorbing each other's
conversation
so much
that the rain
ceased to exist
the next day,
cold under a bright sun -
coats fluffed and warmed
you walked,
arm in arm
in the park
everything was there
not justice,
not a friend,
not the sun.
you dream, you think
of something
a star, a thought
of the person you last
shared a coffee and cigarettte
with outside in
the rain while your coats
became soaked sponges
absorbing each other's
conversation
so much
that the rain
ceased to exist
the next day,
cold under a bright sun -
coats fluffed and warmed
you walked,
arm in arm
in the park
everything was there
not hello
sometimes to say hello hurts
and it is better to hide behind
the aisle, underneath the nearest
counter or anywhere you will be
cloaked from the vision of the person
who you know that you want
to talk to
but shouldn't
and it is better to hide behind
the aisle, underneath the nearest
counter or anywhere you will be
cloaked from the vision of the person
who you know that you want
to talk to
but shouldn't
Thursday, November 19, 2015
letter painting in the fog
a soft index finger spells
out a frosted message
on the fogged window
a gift
to the world
from the inside
of Mom's car
a dandelion waits
outside my window
one day he will pick it,
hand it to her
write her a message
in the sky
out a frosted message
on the fogged window
a gift
to the world
from the inside
of Mom's car
a dandelion waits
outside my window
one day he will pick it,
hand it to her
write her a message
in the sky
Sunday, November 15, 2015
the abbreviated drizzle
the drizzle drains off the
light coat of sidewalk grime,
leftover dew from last spring
a tear that has pooled at the
end of your eyelid,
finally falls away.
you are blessed by
a tiny water droplet
and 2 hydrogens
I remember Chemistry class,
when I first discovered you
light coat of sidewalk grime,
leftover dew from last spring
a tear that has pooled at the
end of your eyelid,
finally falls away.
you are blessed by
a tiny water droplet
and 2 hydrogens
I remember Chemistry class,
when I first discovered you
up, away, you
further than i have been and towards
the future I am immersed in a sea
of memories
but will not drown
entrenched in the sticky mud
of guilt
reaching out for your hand
once our fingers touch
happiness
surrounded by air, life
tomorrow
the future I am immersed in a sea
of memories
but will not drown
entrenched in the sticky mud
of guilt
reaching out for your hand
once our fingers touch
happiness
surrounded by air, life
tomorrow
Saturday, November 14, 2015
new
freshly painted
and ready for the show
toes that twinkle
heels too high
heels too high
eyebrows pruned
face and clothes
printed and pressed
face and clothes
printed and pressed
another night
at the pub
in the dark
on a stool,
tipsy with hope-
a thing or nothing
stronger,
and more hopeless
than hope
a revisited dream
night after night
that the next day
will turn out right
Thursday, November 12, 2015
teardrops and a tangent
the drizzle is a slow cycle
to clean the gentle earth
without shock
the drizzle drains off the
light coat of sidewalk grime
the leftover dew from last spring
the tear that is still at the
end of your eyelid,
finally falls away.
sometimes all you need
is a light rain
to be grateful
it's not a thunderstorm
you are a blessed
creature
surrounded by
a tiny water droplet
and 2 hydrogens
I remember Chemistry class,
Junior year,
when I first discovered
the bunsen burner,
when I first discovered you
to clean the gentle earth
without shock
the drizzle drains off the
light coat of sidewalk grime
the leftover dew from last spring
the tear that is still at the
end of your eyelid,
finally falls away.
sometimes all you need
is a light rain
to be grateful
it's not a thunderstorm
you are a blessed
creature
surrounded by
a tiny water droplet
and 2 hydrogens
I remember Chemistry class,
Junior year,
when I first discovered
the bunsen burner,
when I first discovered you
Saturday, November 7, 2015
because it is fun
a future glimpse of us
our no teeth denture wearing
smiles
as we drink coffee
and feed our grandchildren
candy
and noisy toys,
instruments
whimsical
thoughts to take
home
magical golden
jelly bean covered
castles with
strawberry milk
rivers under
the moat
where prairie
dogs dance
and Elvis
is alive
we teach them
to speak in their loudest voices
and sing and jump
in puddles
and dress in mud
because being a kid
is fun
Thursday, November 5, 2015
old things and new things
i have dreamed of daisies,
gold petals that glisten,
a glimmer of hope
among the ashes
among the construction,
reconstruction,
and fabrication-
re-manufacturing
I have dreamed of daisies-
of hope-
of second-hand clothes
and furniture;
jewelry worn by a fancy,
old woman with electric pink
lipstick
that I now
proudly wear.
I have dreamed all of my
things old
and my old things new
I have dreamed I don't need
things
but I do
gold petals that glisten,
a glimmer of hope
among the ashes
among the construction,
reconstruction,
and fabrication-
re-manufacturing
I have dreamed of daisies-
of hope-
of second-hand clothes
and furniture;
jewelry worn by a fancy,
old woman with electric pink
lipstick
that I now
proudly wear.
I have dreamed all of my
things old
and my old things new
I have dreamed I don't need
things
but I do
Tuesday, November 3, 2015
gone
and so I haven't been around
been lost for awhile
among the crowds
... the piles of work
papers hoping to be read
comments comments,
trying to remember
what I've already said
truly wishing
I was in bed
I'd really love
to tell you more
but here I go
back out the door!
been lost for awhile
among the crowds
... the piles of work
papers hoping to be read
comments comments,
trying to remember
what I've already said
truly wishing
I was in bed
I'd really love
to tell you more
but here I go
back out the door!
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