alas

November 17, 2017

I say  “shudder to think”  is a gothic cliche’

But at times  all too accurate,

The  strictest  depiction,

When I would  shudder & shake some

As I stood  on my sidewalk  in lieless sun

With what I witness,   with what I thought

alas

 

There’s not  much white light

In the shadows I can cast

 

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Cognizant Nugget

October 23, 2017

I heard in the crosswords

Cain killed the Keeper of the Sheep

“Learn something  every day”

For most of it though  don’t go and lose sleep

 

 

 

.                   i)

M  U  C  H

often it’s uncertain   to see,

to see the true things through,

but certainly sometime’s there’s time

when surely much of what’s new

when noticed might matter

to you or rather

to  me

.

.                    ii)

.

D  U  E

I fear I forget that the frail,

nearly unable, but

when a whisper of   Will…

when they muster an incalculable

measure of  reach

to straighten, and lean up

for what’s due.

That’s alot to wait for

.

The Freshest thing in the clearing

by the pond’s sunk boat,

near a nest,  There’s this ringing

drop, possibly  just now  dotting

one leaf,  left  just new

by all the dew

That’s what I wait for

.

.

.

.

.

(from 9 years back)

Muscles Quip

June 26, 2017

I confess

My prowess is

To wait & to watch &

To wit  if fate slips me a quip

Take a sip & reassess then readdress

The matter  no later than  now

 

Fragments On Lofty

June 23, 2017

 

 

It’s not been my story  to take inventory/

It’s  I can’t even   scare up  scant worry

About what I have, About what I would want/

I suppose  I could pose  but I can’t/

It’s  said/

“An  unexamined  life

Is  good  as  dead.”/

I said/

I’m a body afloat, solid thoughts go float too, y’know/

Lofty thoughts  not  caught  can ride

On both tides  High and low/

I’d deny having lied, but replied.

.

.

.

.

.

.                                                                                                           (years & years back)

STILL FOR NOW

June 20, 2017

I imagine one magpie, done with one sky,

Still for now   might start right off balancing  on a line or a limb.

Not addled  by unfair air current.  Past  its  bends.

More fast..characteristically,

Intrinsically, instinctually…

Beating,  feet & hands down,

The land’s own  teetering friends.

.

.

.

“I’m a bird, not an ornithologist”  Barnett Newman, painter

 

 

OUTFITTINGS

June 8, 2017

Some beers and some whiskeys for chores, and morning correspondence.

Soon, off for driver’s licence and all the taxes they’ve attached to it.

I want my immigrant outfittings,

Rosewater holds my hair.

Legal photos are important these days.

Though no great grandchild will glimpse at me and try to recall all

I’ve maybe wondered.

 

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

L I M E

May 8, 2017

I’m  ripe  with  dereliction

My repast  still  strewn out before me

I’ll lap seeds from fruit eden fronts me

Though I’ll stick slow to my sloth….

To my depiction

 

SMUG

January 26, 2013

One wearisome man wouldn’t talk

He’d then tell me so, in oh, a half dozen words

He’d, for emphasis, he’d do this

He’d tell me  he wouldn’t, again

Six  words  twice

Would for him & me  suffice

Six  words  twice

It would suffice for me