REFLECTING ON THIS STALL

August 22, 2017

“Under the willow tree I hide my mirror,

small enough to be mistaken for morning dew.

I look for a point of origin, something to explain how and why

we all must see it through.”          

 

 

Encased  in  impasse,

I couldn’t even eye other passengers

past my papers.

I wouldn’t watch what

my window offered:

small towns, & all their lights,

Reflections, inside, of us riding passersby.

We keep on sweeping by.

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Inspecting  these all  aspects of my work,

Taking stock,    this stall  is a lock still.

Y’see, yesterday’s night

I ran nine yellow lights,

& Just as there were dares that didn’t time out right

I’ll just decide to still ride

 

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the sublime opening verse is from my favorite online poet

Allison Grayhurst, from “Eating From An Imaginary Spoon”  https://wordpress.com/read/feeds/168535/posts/1567304886

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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G L A R E

August 11, 2017

I’ve had a share of furtive glares & glimpses

Clandestine tiny glares & glances

I now redden to reminiscences

I’m now ready  to try new roads

Step surer into newer eventualities

Bet dearer  on far-fetched gains

I’m pretty sure to shift to uplifting new payloads

Pretty sure  no hurricanes

It could all work out,  take root,

It’d  adapt.

If I’d  freely feel  to enrapture your eye

& I  enchant  your  glare

OF FINAL NIGHTS

July 16, 2017

 

 

 

The taste of  spray,

Back splayed against the lighthouse wall,

Is saltier/ The roar of  final nights

Saddled on sea wall gusts

Is Fiercer/ When strength one requires

To withstand and understand  such threats

Is steadier/ The beacon’s cliff path

Is grounds for  light/

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(from 2011)

 

B R E A K

February 22, 2017

 

 

 

 

 

Stoicism is a prison/

Though I break out/

Though I break down/

Through the  pull of a merciful act/

I can be old and too weak to hold back/

I can imagine a troubled

panicked angel tangled double;

One cat caught in a grate/

A girl unfair in a wheelchair/

Nears and dares her balance, her endurance, her tolerance/

She Strains all of her weight/

She shows the pain that she’s used to  on her face/

Then relief,

and they’re both free

She and the cat both refuse to

Cry more,

Like those that might see

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(from 2008ish)

 

 

 

 

how Art thou? Do you drink from the deep sink of inspired creations at an art museum, gallery, or maybe a street art fair on a street near you?sometimes?
Do you have something on one of your walls that only you could only fall for?
And, can’t help but stare?
It’s an important thing,dontcha think?
It has been from an early age for me.
I’m told that soon after I found my father who had killed himself (the Hemingway), while all the distraught adults who knew and loved him were off balance with emotional and practical adjustments (like selling the house and moving on)
One forgotten first son had got into several paint cans and expressed quite a colorful statement on the backside of the new house for sale.
I
I was perched  high for me
in a pinepitchtree
and waited out what I did
as I watched our house’s back side
where I painted from all the paint cans
stacked out back. Though very new plans
made us move away from that life.
Daddy had died and left that life.
Somebody and something could only cover
my work.

II

a french girl with hair from the girl in Breathless
was our art teacher that visited
Miss Blue’s 3rd grade class,
and liked my painting so much
she asked if she could take it
for a contest, or a book she was working on.
The blurry greens and blacks,
browns and blues,  was a ship deep in a storm.
I never saw it again but
somebody and something could only recover
my work.

 

 

still, tie me to the mast.

and

I must get the next good grasp
still, the next limb up
to see some.

A SINGLE SIGNALLING

October 12, 2016

 

 

 

I and It may not be monstertruck obvious.

Just as a cat’s purr  can spur you through a thunderstorm

Or just a night, Or origami maybe might

Amaze you in new ways for focus,  and sight  of

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A  single  signalling;

When one  child of seven

On a church swing

Offers  “You’re funny”,

I’ll take it  as honey

On manna from heaven.

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The world’s love’s not worth leaving, all in all.

Mine’s a frontline free for all an’

It’s  Mercy  itself  inside all this breathing.

An air strike has been called in

And tear gas’s  got me weeping.

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Same as a mammoth

Dropping to his knees

(I’ve seen it from my cave),

Or,  a sweet whale sweating and letting go

Off the side of his seas,

Too far off from saving wave,

Or, when  one wheelchaired child really sees

Enough in him, not his flesh,

To reach  especially  hard

To  a  high  gardenia.

 

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(from 2010)

 

 

 

B Y

July 16, 2016

A different diffident is afoot.

But still when all’s been said

But still not done,

When waiting was a silent art worth it.

Now acting up mustn’t be shushed.

Not a tragedy of errors.

I’m fit to plot my way  by fears,

By  mist-led thoughts,  clear by hushed omens,

Past icons, on through all the usual cues,

On to unknown, outta town one way roads. less lost

S P L A S H

May 15, 2016

 

flying things instinctively know

to dry out their wings, first,

to try out their wings, & go.

 

surfacing a splendid splash,

surviving a fearful fall and crash,

take time off  to dry off &

shake off the surprise of failure.

wake up  and walk off what,

and where you are

before  you forget to prepare for it

all  to dare

the first time,  again.

 

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.                                             (FROM 2009)

BEFORE AUTHENTICITY

May 2, 2016

There’s wait  then it’s takes eight hands to handle a casket

There’s swearing  at yr insides/ & for authorities

There’s wait  when you take yr few dreams to task

Then sweating out all yr insides  before authenticity

OFF/ON

April 27, 2016

 

 I have staved off   lost passions

 I’ve held on cold cliff holds

I stayed and endured elements,

Harsh and all part of a hard whole

Where   lost passions

Sounding far, in the fog,

Meaning more  in a quiet man

Than a kind word,

Can  work

To urge  his stoic stand

On

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                                                                         (from 2009)