.

.

dutifully  sometimes you should shrug

& do yr lines

dutifully  from the p.o.v. of the third guy 

in a lousy joke,

of the third guy,

on cue, in yr line

waiting there  at the gates of heaven,

the punch-drunk punchline chump.

in one ya heard at a barber shop or church,

though i frequent neither.

i heard they put out quite the ambiance there

with the reading materials, murals, & make-believe talk there

.

.

.“Nearly everything we are taught is false except how to read”
Jim Harrison

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Day 11, 28 Days of Unreason

 

 

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“DETAINED”, CAUGHT

June 5, 2018

What were they thinking

I’m not to leave town

I’m a faceted test pattern  Blinking

Personas of interest  Renown

Only to the  powers that be

.

Ok  I get cagey  occasionally

Ok  yet I remain   With the reminder

Of stoic  stands  that been

Lost, inconsequential,

Cost  monumental  to just a man

seattle 2014 065

Photo: my  “Hell’s Ditch”

.

.

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“It is the burden of life to be many ages

without seeing the end of time.”  Jim Harrison

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)

 

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.

.

.

.

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.            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.

 

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.

HAT ON A SCARECROW

December 29, 2017

 

I’m all for the metaphors that can pinpoint elusive love

I’ve a butterfly that lights right upon you like

A wild bird will dance onto a tame wire.

Randomish and skittish,

O lovely luck of above.

Odd that the hat on a scarecrow

Has enough shine to ensure a lure enough

to bug and bird alike,

To draw, and not repel them,

Their wings aim down to light.

———————————————————————————–

“She’s gone, he’s gone too, and in the darkness; heaven and earth hold hands, the hands that loosened for a moment.”

from “The Piano Teacher’, Elfriede Jelinek

 

I know  a show of hands

Could go help  solidify

Some  Freedom Solidarity

In  some look-in lobster  tank.

.

Odds are  dismal to abysmal.

IF I can be more frank,

When the  independent  finch, for instance,

Finds her very own  airy currents home,

It’s a cinch  she might not light

(Her, broken on a branch?)  (perchance)

.

When It’s one chance

We had once gone

before  on the long ground,

We  look  down.

 

I SEE MY PRE-DOOM ROOM

July 24, 2017

 

 

I sweat my bed.

I do all  but dread  there,

One hundred undraped  dreamscapes.

I’d replay and replay

Heaven’s elevator tunes on tape.

Is it true  I did

Fluid-loss & exhaustion,

All that turning and tossing?

I sweat my bed.

First thing is shower head to head,

It takes cold water to weigh

This old man awake to stay down,

Away from high ground.

.

I’d  walked  hard

To find my feet,

To find a way unled

In this far town.

Winds of that farthest town

Of hers are zephyrean dread.

OUR PAIRNESS

July 22, 2017

 

 

It wouldn’t, understandably,

Be unwise,

Though circumspect,

You look directly into the seeing eyes

Of an astute, & ably Miss

And ask  the tallest florist

“What’s the apt blossom symbolism

Best for telling  my steady;

‘You know already..

Our  Pairness   (no lie)

Best Real izes     Oh Relief

As we  just justify

Our  being'”

.

“Those, that nosegay  near the ceiling”