Posts for June 14, 2019 (page 4)

Wrote a decent poem, agree first draft
At best, but wrote it I did to fill the task .
Each day we put hand to keyboard,
Not pen to paper, ah, there’s the rub.

If ‘twas paper, hard copy in hand to read
No matter what key was stroked, beguiled,
The once only words would be keyed
And not lost in some ether world’s safe file.

Alas, advice I preach to me to no avail.
So today I send a pitiful, plaintive wail.
Forgive me Lexpo buds, I shall try
Next to hit the copy key, be Google wry.

A new laptop is out of the question
Budget shudders, a rude suggestion.  
Maybe paper is my answer and type
Each painful line, forget all modern hype.

I promise a return to Road tomorrow
Regardless of typing sorrows. Perhaps
Crossed fingers is the answer to my woe.
One, two, three, off we go. Silly, I know!

Black jeans, broad shoulders, hands
in pockets, they walk in together,  

a confident stride, solid self-sufficiency,
they look only to themselves

for confirmation.  One leans forward
in the pew, partner’s hand on her

back.  When they stand to sing
they’re side by side, arms touching.

I know what this feels like,
this bonding, connection.

Each can turn toward the other
with recognition, love.

with our breakfast, gameshows to avoid the sadness of the news, and she tells me I should try out for one, I know so much. She has trouble with words, swapping one for another, especially the ones you might use once a year but never twice a day. Me, I forget facts, more and more it feels, and if I seem smart it’s only that I knew so much, and much remains. Still, I cry inside when she thinks I could compete on a show, sensing the feel of a shroud on my face in the knowing I don’t always know my name.

I remain sunpierced and moving,
A bearer of heavy dandelion blessings,
A Raven chaser through and through.
But I’ve had a breath of fresh air,
An oasis free from mirage sentiments,
And I’m reinvigorated towards this task.
Onwards with the pact from the queen of knives,
In a desert less arduous than I remember.

It’s so sad
that you know

so little
about 

your family.
Your brother

served
in Viet Nam.

Yes of no?
You remember

the uniform.
You remember

the airport.
How old

were you?
You remember

the story
about the angel

who detained
him

from 
his flight,

which crashed,
saving his life.

Still, he died
way too early.

Why?
Your other

brother.
Dead from overdose.

One of many.
You remember

the gun,
waving,

an erratic
cartoon balloon,

empty of speech.
Still, another

brother.
Dead.

What 
do you

remember?
Nothing.

A stroke of bad luck
genius directly to the brain
half your body won’t respond now
it’ll never be the same

sweeter than a soaking rain
a stranger’s offer
of an umbrella

I forgot something yesterday—
what was it?

whispering innocence in an ear for the third time in the dark; digging each peeling fingernail into an inch-thick scalp; waiting to scrape out the insides of a skull; bending a rosy arm around the bite marks on a spine… and humming

humming a mellow tune before the sky falls 

I put my mom on a pedestal 
Cause that’s where she needs to be 
I can’t tell you all the things she has done for me 
She has never, not once, turned her back on me
I want the whole world to know
What special mom God sent me
Her heart is big 
And her love is great 
I want her to know 
I truly appreciate 
The joy she brings to me
She’s an angel sent from above
She touches everyone with some of God’s love 
If you met my mother, you know what I say is true 
And mom, I wish everyone could be just like you