Posts for June 4, 2020 (page 5)

Category
Poem

Animus, Anima

While walking the railroad tracks
Head down to gleen and claim aluminum oddities
And rusty bolts, a child’s wonder yet on me
Though old, and not a care
To bind me in the world,

I saw a red fox lanky, skinny
Scared and mean to see me.
Stopped as we wanted to crash
And weaved around me, crossed the tracks
In his own way, dainty but fast,
And loped off guilty, as if he’d
Stolen a chicken or a golden egg.

I thought what? dog? no. cat? no. what?
A rodent in his mouth, probably a mole.
He must have been lost in thought too,
To come so close,
He must have been pained, alert, half-starved.
50 yards off now and fading, a determined trot,
Slid under a fence, in the midst of horses,
Nevermore to see beyond pitched ground
A low rise at the brink of pastureland.
Would he cross the field, 
To the woods and brook beyond,
Where hobos are drinking coffee, startle them too,
Back out of sad reveries of decay, 
Into Wonder, and give them a story to tell?

And then the woman soul embraced me full. 
She’s taking food to her kits in some 
Warm musk hole.
A mother’s tender Love, dodging
Indifference, a lower grade of men,
To champion life in the new risen morning.
The sun in my eyes sight was lavish.


Category
Poem

What Would Be so Wrong With Requiring Police to Have a Four-Year Degree?

What would be so wrong with requiring police to have a four-year degree?
A hard one
 That involves
Race classes
Psychology
Communication
Social work classes
Maybe then people wouldn’t do it because
It makes them feel powerful
Maybe then they would become a cop because they actually care
Maybe instead of an intense physical test
They should have an intense human rights test
With mock cases and scenarios
Maybe instead of wearing a militant uniform
They could just wear khakis and a polo
Maybe they ought to prove they’re not a racist before they’re ever allowed
To be on the squad
Maybe instead of accepting people who yearn for power
They accept people who yearn for human decency
Maybe instead of training their officers to have no feelings
They could train them to care about every perspective
Just a thought


Category
Poem

Seven Sisters Graced The Night

Daughters of Atlas
seven nymphs of Pleiades
Pleiones maidens

Maia the eldest
introvert isolation
earth goddess, mother

Electra shining
bright amber, Zeus coveted
blue star of Taurus

Alcyones grace
most brilliant of the seven
kingfisher nesting

Taygete hid
as deer among mountains
spurning great Zeus

Asteropes death
running from love, snake bite sting
river nymphs passing

Celaeno, star nymph
a dark one amongst seven
lost to the cluster

Merope ashamed
turned away from Sisyphus
bee-eater fading


Category
Poem

Macbeth in 17 syllables

Magic is simply
as prosaic as the greed
in mens’ lonely hearts. 


Category
Poem

Love in the Middle

You get lost so often
between the baby
and the dramatic pre-teen,
but your carefree nature
never complains. 
You giggle with wild abandon
and find love in flower petals and unicorns. 

We share small moments
under covers
whispering secrets,
spinning tales so large the limits 
of imagination are stretched 
thin as the hairs on a violin bow.

And you play so sweetly on my heart. 


Category
Poem

Reading the obits

I keep a tally
Mostly they live
A long long time

One woman my age
Died at the hospice care center
A childhood friend died
Peacefully at home

I look for ratios
For patterns
A way to measure
Or predict

The woman’s voice is kind
But firm
On the cancer care app
She says I will get well
For the joy of living
But I thrive on the fear
Of dying.


Category
Poem

Peeling Back 1997

The first night I stayed
In your 1877 house
The winter wind came through
Your room like a                  beast,
A being intent on being
The dare devil of our passion

Century old particles flew
Out from the peeling wallpaper
To create hieroglyphics
On the mantel above your bed,’
The sound of the storm a cover
For your children sleeping upstairs


Category
Poem

so when I tell you I’m leaving

milliseconds of morphine drip out onto the floor
everything good drains from the bend of your elbow
I can see the it’s like I don’t know who you are now
prying its way over your tongue and from behind your teeth  

I can see your eyes not seeing me
I can’t tell if it’s my hand or yours
that goes limp  

you close the casket lid on me
you can’t stand long goodbyes


Category
Poem

The Walking Dead

Maybe
One day
We’ll need each other
Like in a Walking Dead
Kind of way
She’ll want me
Because I’m not afraid 
To tear some skin
While the men a
re off dying
Due to dull acts of heroism
We’ll be the ones
Who survive


Category
Poem

Conundrums

“I’m glad they’ve begun asking riddles—I believe I can guess that”                                                                                           -Alice, Chapter VII, The Mad Tea Party  

I used to know beauty:
Buzz swarm seething into a new hive
Spin and bow playful beagle
Sculpture room in silence
Sniffing bookcases
Weight of a good pen  

Now all I know are riddles:
Media buzz
Knees & blood
Truncheon swing
Jittery video
Fence, Pillar, and Post  

The lash of history
Unsolved