February 28, 2017
She goes shy of the very shadows;
completely infused in first section hard-copy news,
She peruses column leads,
Refusing all too-sad reads.
Usually my views.
So sure you got some guy here who’s seriously shy
To fill skies with a gloom-jam just eye-jabbed in.
It can kill a guy.
But the goo you stand up against and
The two tons of blue mood you face
Too often. Too fierce to soften & go.
This man here could not just stand there,
She can’t relate
To the cinema I saw so late
She says they blur more black than white.
She says they end not..just not right.
April 12, 2016
“Mock Crash Unfolds”
Made an edit
For a column lead-in
And something to scan
While we gentlemen wait
At the bank
Older gentlemen of a certain age
Encouragedly unemployed now
The headlines heralded some rescue drill
Trained Emergency people
Acted out on some sunnier afternoon
March 8, 2016
When every windy day
We’re over there to the cemetery
When wind chimes sing from a tree
This is Melissa
When friends fade
(Yet, the few you let love you).
When one’s forced to infer
Another gone/next connection
Immense with interference
Then, It’s fierce
When friends fade
You sure yr future dreams come mourning don’t manifest doubtful?
What you want can’t cum out full
As sure as your shy shouts ain’t heard
You’re frightened you mighten give up on promise.
But never your word.
February 2, 2016
It might have been one long neon light
In the laundromat that set her off
When it flickered & popped
Everyone up late
Our eyes were hypnotized some
All bets were off
On what might happen
She was the first to go
To distract us from our books & hand-machines,
Pull us from our puzzles, also our magazines
Her saying all that nonsense fouled by fire
Interrupted that late night scene
Her calling names out
All intense, her pleas
We stared some & stuck out someone’d stop her
Her call to fallen reveries
Her own effin reveries
October 31, 2015
It’s a fact
The shadows have been acting up
Their glint fulgurates My way
On the very very side
Me away from whatever
It clearly demanded
I always turn my head
October 31, 2015
twist a knob on the dash
Adjust the width on the hole on the window
Just so you might read the road’s edge
Roll down yr window, fold down yr sleeves
For this hour at least
Fueled with guts & grace
Not to get caught in that dead-end place
Through too late darknesses
(onto too early empty dawns)
On to one Firecolors promise
Of one sunrise
, (image “Dark Place III” / Georgia O’Keefe)
October 13, 2015
August 24, 2015
There’s this effing coughing guy.
Coughing his damn fool sick muccoused head.
He’s right behind me.
I’d bet half the health insurance check I’ll need
He’ll reject deflecting all that sick and
No manners to lift up that handy hefty hand.
He keeps coughing, this jerk,
& me with three hours of work
& then I’m free, or start to be.
When I reach my muy private beach…
Known for its internal tune up sun
Its eternal straightline horizon
Three hours and It’s a Go
Leave this stress that god I know
This thing with cough just threatens “No”
I know well to bet on this novel/Habit threat.
August 20, 2015
if need be
frighten so easily,
sure, sometimes I shouldn’t
shutter, some times I couldn’t
muster the clarity to clear away
glint visions, spark trails
witnessed, I guess, near edges
meant visions, dark tells;
hinted, half blessed, fear edges
. (2009 & still)
(Image: “The Passion Of Creation” by Leonid Pasternak)