IF I MINDED

June 7, 2017

I’ve been biding my live time

My trivial “real”-life trials

All the challanges this chuff can ignore

All the more he might’ve  imagined

If i minded any more

For somehow here  and not

For somewhere not

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LOST/JUST

September 15, 2016

 

 

I

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.”

.
         II.  Birdsong
.

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.

.
   III.    J U S T
.

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.///

.

.

.

.

 

(from 2009)

TRYING LOVE RHYME

April 21, 2016

For the most part I’m all right with what resides inside my heart

Though now & then I can hear again that yr leery  nearly often

You can’t soften unrest  with yr  kinda kindness

.

Most of the past  I must confess

Trying love  It’s true I’ve been clueless

But i guess now  I know  I guess

That one oughtn’t wait  to not hate

All what’s more hard to tolerate

.

It can happen   to evaporate

In Nightstreams;

Characters cast into indecipherable scripts

All are strangers

To stare at, to starve for,

More, to promptly forget.

And Daydreams;

Live characters I’ve cared fiercely for

Live  too far enough I know  away in shadows

To re know/ to re love/ to re have

In this half life

“MOCK CRASH UNFOLDS”

April 12, 2016

“Mock  Crash  Unfolds”

Made an edit

For a column lead-in

And something to scan

While we gentlemen wait

For counsel

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

ESPIAL

April 10, 2016

“I swing the brush and was conducting the Chaos”

Got on my knees, needed & got  grout out

I showered shame off my inner shins

Got out some to name nine or so sins I never believed in

I showed  god everything  I never believed

Fleshing out these precious hours especialiously  their spectres

“But how many are fleeing anything to that?”

 

 

 

 

 

 

” ich schwinge den Pinsel und dirigiere das Chaos..”  from

https://herschelmann.wordpress.com/2016/04/08/fruehjahrsputz/

.

 

“Mais combien fuient rien qu’à cette idée ?”  from

Peur, souffrance intérieure

 

 

.

 

20160407_113540(image:”Expectorate”  http://namelessneed.deviantart.com/art/expectorate-601720396 )

BEWILDER MENT

March 24, 2016

I’m  immune.

Or, I’d use precautions

For yr considerations, then.

“It’s worth the risks”, went

This washed-up  high-wire act,

Misfortune  forced  his bewilderment,

Abandoned in his barren field, in fact.

I’m immune, y’know.

Let me get go through my window.

.

I dreamt I opened a door onto a stranger

Her chest hurt, she showed her best she wasn’t in danger

I dreamt I waited to turn at a corner

Onto deep/ditched road, well before I could warn her

She lost control of her sportscar, four arcs

Into sleep/filled woods. unsteady long legs started

Out, hurt, and startled me to  dream move  to

Both strangers to tend to them, and love too

 

 

 

“I don’t stand this, no distancing..”

My soulfull chest and best intentions,

“O ..Further along & farther away”.

After it’s hurting time

It’s certain we’re down

From where we may

& nearer the day we’re done.

 

 

 

PAST THE BARRICADE

November 29, 2015

I bet, when it’s time to settle up

&  I’m front & back  up against the barricade,

I bet, I dare  to gawk and glare

Past the barricade.

.

I’ll scarcely be scared

Or  ever

The least bit biblically

Humbled by heaven.

.

I would

I could not  certainly  see

The  foals  and fawns there,

Pups,  piglets,

&  All our infants.

Eaglets  soar  there

.

Uncharacteristically,

I would not mind waiting.

still

.

.

.

.

.          (2012)

It started with you and I hurrying to catch a just waiting old bus. We’re loaded with bags & bundles. The archaic bus starts to move away then stops for us. We step up, an older unlikely looking driver, a short, shaggy grey haired woman in a smock-like shift is standing, away from the wheel, welcomes us. There’s room for us to sit on opposite sides of somehow open area in the center of this crowded bus. We let down our loads. The woman behind the seat i drape my coat on become obviously relieved when I re-drape it so it doesn’t drape into her space.

The train/bus moves and mainly flushed imagery outside the windows move by and demand my attention away from your smile & nod across the way/ you’re in a place just off the windowed panorama./ Soon I call over, “Look Dear, the city we love”/ & cimematically the chiaroscuro  of the lit skyline curves away.

Our clothes change to the clothes of a past time; cloth heavier, less well-fit, colors wrong./ Our bodies change./To strangers./ But we readily accept this subtle, bizarre shift. Images still slide by outside. After some time they stop. Our kindly driver is walking us up into an old shop of  older clothes. I undress completely to re-change, but the new clothes are newly ill-fitting. It seems that the proprietor of the place that it seems we’ve broken into is coming too quick so we rush to re-dress back into our less awkward costume. As odd, new bodies in old attire, we rush again back to our bus/train.

I’ve got a POV shot  to where you’re outside on a corner, and I’m inside without a word./ You’re queen-waving with a warmly resigned smile and I’m waving all the while./ Movement ramps up immensely./Leaning into windsweep/ Up on the front boat lip/ The oldest woman driver nods and calls over it all, something like (somehow) “Leap forth now!”

I swim in strong strokes. the waves are steady & uniform too.

I’m standing dressed but still looking like some one else,/ looking for someone else/ Others look unfamiliar/ face to face/ Then, someone I know,/ also bearing an older,different appearance/But I recognize her/ She calmly shows a shy smile./ Faces still proceed/ Like looking into a swirling dance room floor at a bustling Gala or ball./ I strain and strain again to re-see her./ But  awoke.

I’ve seeked and seen the one we lost this week.