Selected Poems

These poems are drafts, not final versions, and may not be shared outside this website without permission. Thank you.

 

130928

MAZED

Every guidance
is forgotten—
are there bearings
to be gotten?

 

130924a

A SIMPLE PRAYER

Cat and neighbor
walk from house to pen,
met halfway by eager hens.

This scene conveys a wish
that all might live like this.

May each, this day, be lovingly fed
and rest, this night, in nest or bed.

 

130924b

CREATOR CREATOR

Giving thanks to the Sky
seems very apropos
(or to What- or Whomever
made the world a studio).

 

130924c

TURNING PAIL
A WHITER SHADE 

Milk a cow—
that’s a joy I missed;
guess it goes
on my bucket list.

 

130921

JUST ASKING

Of God and me… 
are we separate or do we blend?
who is real and who pretend?
is one the other’s dreamed-up friend?
Will such questions never end?

 

130919a

REALIZATION

After more-and-more,
nothing is satisfying.

After less-and-less,
nothing is satisfying.

 

130919b

AIM TA TELL YA
(what I seen tonite)

Moon got throwed
like a punkin pie
splat in the face
of that big ole sky!

 

130918a

GRATIFICATION INSTANT

“Oh! That is so amazing!
Wow, look at that. I’m awed.
Takes my breath away.
Just stunning. Mm-mm-MM!”

(The “Oh!” is real;
the rest is theatrics.)

 

130918b

HURT

You might as well
crumple me up
and throw me away.

I’m just your fool,
a borrowed tool—
I have no say.

 

130917a

HOW HARD IS IT?
(for Theresa)

I won’t lie,
‘cuz that’d be perjury.
Let’s just say
it ain’t rocket surgery.

 

130917b

RIDDLE

Metal, coin, policeman—
and a color too:
sort of peach when polished,
an electrifying hue.

[Answer at 130913b]

 

130916

STAGE DIRECTION

No writing,
not tonight.
No thinking,
except as dreaming.
Visualize
with all your might.
Prepare your entrance.
Fade to white.

 

130913b

THAT SUNSET

It was such a popper—
mostly peachy copper!

 

130908

WE SEE DIFFERENT

I see undersides of roses.
I see inside people’s noses.
I am small. You are tall.
We see different things.

You walk tall with ease.
I crawl on my knees.
You see traffic, drive a car.
I can’t see the cookie jar.

You look up the street.
I look down by feet.
I see bugs and mice and frogs.
I am face to face with dogs.

You see ladies’ lips.
I see ladies’ slips.
You see windows, walls, and doors.
I see crumbs and dust on floors.

You look fast, then go.
I look down… and slow.
I watch dew on blades of grass.
I watch snails and turtles pass.

I see undersides of tables.
I see things called “eaves” and “gables.”
I am small. You are tall.
We see different things.

 

130907

CRUCIBLE

Come, Destruction—
come destroy;
unlearning is delicious.

Come, Destruction—
come destroy;
the time is now auspicious.

 

130905

DYNAMIC
BALANCE

Plus and minus
make life’s sum;
what takes us to
takes us from.

 

130904b

LOST IN THE SHUTTLE

Day is done,
including my part.

I suppose I did have
something to do with it—
though, in retrospect,
it felt like a
self-fulfilling tapestry.

 

130903

DEATH THROES

The church of my childhood
emphasized death,
especially gruesome deaths.

“Prepare to die,”
the elders told me.
“To prepare for heaven
is to prepare for death.”

So I imagined myself
in my coffin each night.

By day, I shot myself with arrows;
I flayed, roasted, drowned, stoned,
racked, and beheaded myself;
I locked myself in dungeons
and towers.

Torture was the lot of martyrs,
and a martyr’s death was
the sure mark of a saint.

Of course,
there was Blessed Imelda,
who died of bliss
after taking first communion.
But that didn’t work for me.

 

130902

PERILOUS

It is late.

I hear
the torrent roaring.

Effort
may take me upstream,
but not upriver.

Beauty abounds.

How shall I respond:
relax—
or resist?

 

130901

SAID AFTER MY WALK

“Back so soon?
Did you get a poem?”

“Not a one! 
And it should be simple.”

“Well, pop one out—
like you do:
like a pimple.”

 

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