first smile
09 June 2014
The language of numbers,
muffled by crumbling sidewalks,
hopscotch carefully,
avoid the power of suggestion,
mother’s backs safe —
for the moment,
which is more than I can say
for dandelions gone to seed,
whose existence begs
for wanton stomping,
a childhood right,
like the sizzle of hot dogs over an open fire,
or the mustard it took
to shyly say hello
to a friend of a friend’s sister
that very first time …
It’s funny what we remember
as we carve out our place
at the table of thanksgiving,
for the joys that were,
the journey that has been,
and for that first smile
which changed us forever.
fear of flying
24 May 2014
like cooing pigeons, we flutter,
then mate,
await the perfunctory report,
a nervous laugh,
a knowing smile,
that silent questioning need
to survey truth,
eyes meeting,
minds slightly wandering
between selfish and sufficient,
like a compass needle stuck
on magnetic North,
still, we arrive, our destination,
the journey itself a treat,
remembered revelations,
across the canvas of your face,
the coos and squeaks and silent sighs,
I’m not quite so afraid to fly.
Oracle
17 May 2014
I am thin at this altitude,
breathing labored,
this forced panoramic view
of chaos
a disaster just waiting to happen.
Why?
An enduring question,
for most people a curiosity,
but for a few – a necessity.
And for many,
adroit at plastic answers,
the few who knead the bread,
who sip only from alabaster cups,
are shunned,
deemed unredeemable
for not settling for conformity.
Many could see,
in graphic detail,
but few, if any,
ascend or question.
Many come,
seeking answers from,
but leave dissatisfied with
the answer they receive.
Only a few depart
with wisdom’s planted seed.
Mine eyes have seen,
in gentle humility,
merely because I choose
to ask, to listen,
and to see.
step
20 April 2014
bones, twice-stolen,
an offering to open water,
each limb aches,
a beautiful mess,
as I sway in sync with
this rocking bridge,
and step smartly.
inspired by the Sunday Whirl
between scars
14 April 2014
under moonlit porcelain,
each in turn chants,
swears
of love felt deeply,
briefly …
Gaudy promises
drip, like blood
from wounded wrists,
like sonnets,
we never miss …
hunger,
that iron-taste,
in limbo,
between scars
and wounds that never heal.
inspired by The Sunday Whirl poetry prompt: Wordle # 156 http://sundaywhirl.wordpress.com/
zip
05 April 2014
zip across forever,
suspend disbelief as
the waterfall plunges,
spraying diamonds
into prismatic rainbows.
strap in, be tough,
the only barrier is fear;
swing across, between
like perfectly ironed pleats.
Understand power is
never truly measured over, but rather
with, in unity.
Truth lies in the details.
(written for The Sunday Whirl)
still hungry
09 March 2014
paradise, or what I think
I miss, among
the motley,
a banquet served
of endless rows
of empty
platters …
I bake,
celebrate,
one trip,
into a sunny hollow,
filled with
velvety leaves …
cotton trees
shade my tears –
let down by
expectations,
disappointments,
I catch a glimpse
inside,
one more bite,
an empty,
jelly-filled donut.
(written for The Sunday Whirl 151)
whirling wordle 150
02 March 2014
(for The Sunday Whirl, each poem is meant to represent, in order, the following words: assault, cage, double, easy, fuel, guess, list, mercy, six, trigger, type, where)
it’s intentional,
what we do and what we say,
to harm another.
I still don’t get it,
this need to capture, to keep,
what are we proving?
my doppleganger,
can be blamed for whatever
you assume I did.
there is no such thing,
but, no one ever promised
you that it would be.
there are days when the
best that you can hope for is
a near by off ramp.
Don’t say, “I don’t know.”
so you won’t have to be wrong.
Like questions,
there are no stupid answers.
my thoughts, bulleted,
endlessly I organize,
things I never do.
a gift, undeserved,
the power to demonstrate
the unexpected.
a shooter, or the
number of the Beast they say,
an inverted nine?
the cause, something pulled,
that button someone pushes,
to get a response.
Sorry, you’re not my …
so, what exactly is your …
do you stereo …
no … is not like some …
and any … ‘s indecisive,
be … ‘s homophonic.
under advisement
22 February 2014
The Sunday Whirl
(eggs, trust, test, not, high, course, peep,
mug, trial, form, bring, blown, stick)
test dark water, barefoot,
trust not women, dice, nor cards,
trial-sized dreams are convenient,
bring eggs to toss at bards.
ration words, like can’t, no, not,
fill mugs until they overflow,
form opinions more slowly than you speak,
don’t always chase where winds have blown.
stick to telling only what you know,
if it looks cute and peeps, it still can bite,
and of course, the wisest person by far,
knows how highly to think on advice.
