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,

tumbled  on papers

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.