How does one love during a time like this?
Watching the world through a screen
Perhaps the trick would be a kiss
To wake me from this dream
Watching the world through a screen
I fear my mind is mush
Dumb and numb and longing, interviene!
Someone wake me from this dream
I fear my mind is mush
Inside closed doors all day
Please, wake me from this dream
That feasts on repetition & decay
There’s a poison out there in the world,
stronger than any venom or toxin,
It can be injected through anything at anytime and anywhere,
It’s a paralytic poison,
Stopping you from doing all but the most essential functions,
It hits fast and hard lasting seconds to years,
This poison has a name,
It’s just two words but can destroy lives in a second,
The past
And God, if you didn’t know any better you’d think he was a Kennedy,
with how he dressed, by which he spoke, in the way that he walked:
handsome, and destined for incontestable greatness—
and when you looked at him you couldn’t help but wonder if, he too,
much like the others,
were cursed for all eternity.
Pine Mountain Cemetery IX
Johnny
Walk over the brow and down a bit to find
A wend of grapevines, old, strong standing
Over the narrow valley like an overlook.
Johnny, now resting just behind us broke
His arm and still swung all day, for one
Never knew when the vine would tire and sag
Stealing all the fun of that one ride. Fire
Beds between rock rings still smell of
Marshmallow, mustard and Hershey bar.
Sky so bright stars became our blanket
Against the swoop of cold air running
Down the face of our Pine Mountain.
Was it one summer or two before we raced
Into the dreamed for future we thought so dear?
Johnny died a spy caught in a foreign land.
The rest of us scattered to places not so
Scary, but never near the rock rings that wished
For our return for a swing on waiting vines.
I get on the bus
and I feel shakey
eyes on me.
I pull my coat close.
In the classroom
everyone hurries
to put things in cubbies.
I stand back
sink into my fur.
Get to your seats
but I’m not ready
I crawl inside my cave.
That means you too
Barry Bear.
My stomach feels sick.
Lunchtime laughs
Look! Berries, nuts and eww! Fish!
Out at recess I’d go
up in a tree
but that’s not allowed
even on blustery days.
Back at my desk
Teacher asks a question
and I moan.
It’s time to go home.
Front seat behind
Mr. Bruce
and all is fine for now.
Bus stops,
Woodsey Lane.
Home safe.
Mamma’s here.
Pappa’s home soon.
Time for my pjs
and Once upon a time
there were three Bears…
You never know
Who you might talk to
Late at night
During a global crisis
With no end in sight
Plan accordingly
Be kind
how limited in perception
are we;
a system cannot acknowledge
its voids
for fear of
collapse
When I left Christianity for another path,
I thought I had done something radical.
I felt relief at all the things I would never
have to do again.
And yet, the further I walk this path,
the more I find essential
things I thought I was free from.
I find myself turning to prayer.
Gratitude is recommended
by all my gurus
and even by therapists.
Forgiveness
keeps knocking
at the door of my heart.
I continue to learn patience
through situations beyond
my control.
And I still must walk in faith
of things I can not see.
I thought I’d found a shortcut to spiriruality.
A more joyful road, maybe.
But a path that’s just as long.
because my lover
touched it
I’m dreaming about breaking
this glass in backyard grass
instead of washing it
I want to burn
my body from the center
of its petals
and out
fire ceasing only in ash
I pick up the candle to drink
but my quick flame
is quenched
