September 15, 2016
For now, awhile, I won’t let you pull me from the wreckage/
But, how you hold my hand, for both of us
Until the jaws of life arrives/
Tho’ I’m not at a lost of words, I’m lost
In thought / “I’m lost”, I thought,
“And hiding from the hidden costs.”
I’ll dare to speak of sparrows
in shrapnel-filled WW I battlefield winds,
in sharp scarlet dawns/
They’ll sing to find their kind
if they’ve lived,
A song will find its way back,
between the blood & budding daybreak.
it could be/ a branch of a tree
perched at a high hill
would have a new bud just
breaking through/ it would be just for you
and in time a blossom. You’d just
lift yr arm up/ and pull it down/ just in time
to drink it through
with yr deepest stealing breath.///
August 28, 2016
“Would you complain because a beautiful sunset doesn’t have a future or a shooting star a payoff? And why should romance ‘lead anywhere’? Passion isn’t a path through the woods. Passion is the woods.”
― Tom Robbins
I wonder when one day
We’ll pocket our passions
They’ll fasten in look-see neck lockets
Soon it’ll just seem fair
To wear them
She’ll share hers in sunlight sidewalks.
Fashion will see to it someday & night We
Could undress off our soft underthings
Could show softer
Bold and tender
August 24, 2016
I’m no man who takes stock
Or should be shocked by
But I bet it was one day
Or less, I honestly met
Two unlucky others having,
Both, unlikely christian names..
I take it I’m not too long
On this old
Just because I joked
Last night at friends
Arthritis in my hands
Might makes it easier
It takes not so slow
To let go of the rail?
August 16, 2016
When the carousel comes to where…
When the maelstrom makes certain turns to…
“This is where I came in!”
I’ll quip, and wink, and break up the fourth wall
I’ll step off, & start off, forcing a freefall,
& any form of free I will welcome.
If I find my feet I can become
A pilgrim on path,
A pilgrim back filling his path.
August 16, 2016
If You’ll find it’s kinda fate you kinda understand.
You’ll knock the gun out of the goombah’s hand.
It’s sent to the pavement
Between you and all the rest.
When you wrestle it from circumstance
Then Do you got the go to go the distance?
August 9, 2016
of all the lies
in the air
that this liar
is truely unaware of
(is ’truely’ the right word?)
of all the lies
casual and caressing there
the air currents n
(is ’current’ the correct word?)
the stolen ones, emboldened lies
(I’ve told em. All alchemy.)
are all born, arabesque,
of an open pen pumping onto paper,
August 8, 2016
“It’s a desperately vexatious thing, that after all one’s reflections and quiet determinations, we should be ruled by moods that one can’t calculate on beforehand.” ―
George Eliot, Adam Bede
She’s pulling up stakes.
For fulfilling dreams wait for her there.
Somewhere else. Somewhere farther
From this dry dream here.
I love her so I can let it go.
From two hundred to twelve hundred
Miles to walk, away.
It stands to reason that
I understand It’s a good plan to move,
It gets me in the throat.
I could call it logical.
I get it./ We’ve yet to use unwise love.
“I’ve got a good hooded coat.”
I guess it makes some sense.
It gets me to make no move.
It got me in my throat.
It’s all a saddish & maddening wishing well.
I’m still a man
Who can sit so still