NURSIE DEAR

May 23, 2018

I’ve dreamt of an angel nursie dear

Near  she sat and pat my brow

Her half-smile warmed me with more light, more hope here

I fell back on my fevered pillow

.

.

.

Why by chance you’re my Florence Nightengale

That grows pale at my rows of wounded

& Hard-headedly disclaims, “All is tainted”

But goes on blinking out your saint eyes

All the shadows god’s light must have painted?

Advertisements

FIERCE PHALANXES

May 17, 2018

Her heartbreaking fuses

Popped one by one   useless

His hearing distant thunders

Scared him, scarred him

far ago

A  steady  rough  ruckus

The  steeds’  hooves  deep in dust

For  needs for tender mercies 

Form  now  in firm phalanxes

not far ago   at all

gloomy guess

May 16, 2018

I   stood

Outside   her

I   stare

Yet  don’t  see  her

She   understood

Our   plight   here

Aware

But

won’t   Be   there

 

.

 

.

 

.

(found on a phone notebook, from a coupla weeks back)

 

16F

May 14, 2018

A windowseat is great

In an all night diner

It was unfair the Airport

Shorted  me  enough

Stuffed me, a long-legged  man

With a long-winded rant

I stifled in my windowseat.

.

My legs were cropped up crinkled

Like the babies sitting next me

Their cries exited and were emitted freely

Some cries  deep inside  deep inside me.

.

I bet one windowseat would be great

In a darkened diner

My inner world would wander

That  eighteen  wheeler

Lots of legroom  not so tight

Roads to walk  upright

 

ONLY CONSIDERED

May 2, 2018

 

the creatures were there at their creek

when they witnessed me by the moon

I was quiet enough on my path

but they looked up, then back down to their drinking

 

I was so lost they didn’t scatter

so lost the full moon only considered my prayers

I got turned around when the wind picked up

I can’t find my feet or so far

my way back

.

.

20180427_204049.jpg

 

FAINT MISTS PAINT A MAZE

April 22, 2018

 

SALLYHAWKINS

 

“FAINT MISTS PAINT A MAZE”

is warranted as a title,

to be entitled, for a forward

to a body of work about:

highland trails, thorough haze,

brash dense brush, broken fences,

rainy bald boulders, wildflowers,

sunlight threads, down onto mosses,

log lichen, & mushrooms.

And as sea fog works so/ as a grey god’s cloaks,

far mountains peer over as   pe’res.  

Clinky silver rivulets,

where waterbugs & yellow leaves

float off./  I can’t.  I’ve rolled off

those  fertile  sheets.   & down.

.

.

.

.

.            The image is, for me, robbed oscar award winner, the lovely Sally Hawkins

FREE MAPS

April 17, 2018

 

For now, awhile, I won’t let you pull me from the wreckage

Still, how  you hold my hand, to still both of us

Until the jaws of life  arrives.

Tho’ I’m not at a loss of words, I’m lost

In thought. “I’m lost”, I thought.

Perhaps the filling station’s free maps

Forbid us from the hidden costs.

 

RUSTFALL

April 15, 2018

Afterwards  we’d hugged to bed

Afterall  it’s there for former lovers

To  reaquaint

To fall backwards  & lose one’s head

.

We’ll  let  rustfall

.

We could only invite  to come closer

Than  we  can  see

.

And after confidences, all

We could oblige to

Is  sighing

And  more  dream

Maybe I’m madly wrong
My perspective’s askew.

.
Driving here drowsy, & now all along
I’ve dreamt there is time to see it all through.
.
Could be I’m way off.  Way off course.
My Heart’s compass’s needle must still be true.

.
A cloudy road’s option is straight on, of course
Seemingly there would be one way  to drive through.
.
Maybe I’m madly wrong
My POV’s askew
Driving here lousy, & now all along
I’ve dreamt there was time to see it all through

C A S K

April 6, 2018

There’s a cask of Chianti

With Leo Da Vinci

On the label like it took from a notebook

But my curiosity sought the imagery

My  thirst  might  evoke.

.

The cask stands upon a piano

Like a candle in the window

Not a word about the new chords

Almost heard in the darknesses, a solemn oath

Not a word about the new chords.