Posts for June 26, 2021 (page 2)

                               First, that sunrise
and those birds calling to each other
from the electric line and overgrown fence.
                                Sleep.
                               And maybe the bills need
paid. Or maybe a great meteor will crash
into– or maybe the soft grocery store lights
will shadow form across its floor.
                                Pencil in time for
the appointment with sleep,
it’s familiar rooms. 
                                There is a time
to talk. There will always be. 

Of course.

Dear, beautiful, unobtainble one,

I would adore you

and treat you so well

if only you were mine.

We would make such

beautiful magic

together.

Pay no heed

to that cluttered

kitchen table,

a bitter lover

from my past.

She means nothing to me,

I assure you.

She is just a place to stack

and lose important objects.

But you, you my love

will remain unblemished

and sacred.

Do not listen

to the complaints

of the writing desk

stored in the basement,

still waiting for me

to clear enough space

to bring it upstairs.

I do not have eyes for it.

‘Twas a passing fancy

that could never capture my heart

like you do.

O precious one,

please be mine

and go with me

on fantastic adventures

without ever leaving this room.

Oh how I long to luxuriate

in your blessed silence.

How I yearn to dream with you

of magnificent untold tales.

How I ache to be alone with you

and run my fingers across

your smooth surface.

I would give anything to have you, darling.

And I would visit you every day,

our time together

sweeter than wine.

Please wait for me, beloved,

until the day I can possess you.

I drove and drove 
today
east, northeast, east again
miles and miles of not much
well, not true 
miles of trees, mountains, farmland
scenic overlooks and blue hills
then boom
the city
vast and sprawling
encompassing everything 
finality after a long day alone
now with my daughter I am again content
how very often family is my destination 
a place and a purpose, simultaneously 
a reason 

She runs her hands 
through bed-rumpled hair, slurps
fragrant hazelnut coffee, slips on
tortoise shell reading glasses
and poises pen above paper.

Nothing.

Morning birds chirp and chirp
outside her open window, so
damn cheerfully, except the doves.
Those masters of melancholy voice
her own malaise.

Just shut up   up up

She wants to get naked, sink
back down into soft flannel sheets,
forget about metaphors, imagery,
lineation, strong verbs.

She swallows two Advil and
takes the day off.

These, my dear
Are the only words
That will be submitted
For public consumption 
On the topic of 
You

You held my hand 
Oh how that felt
In the sweet summer heat
In that public park without much of a view
On that day that has another meaning
You reached back for me
Sticky and damp
Nervous and unsure
Our hands came together

The moment and you
Significantly insignificant
You were a lesson to me
But you weren’t the teacher 
You were the transition
The in between
The necessary filler 
To get to the happy ending

Credit where credit is due, dear
You held my hand

In the aftermath
of a Strawberry Moon
July is at the door,
and night if filled
with flash and boom,
strange parody of war.

You have your fun
and I’ll have mine,
no problems here with that,
but can’t you play
with toys that don’t
terrorize my cat?

He saw the caution sign

Knew very well the floor was slick

Still he persisted

Until he fell

Head over heels.

The fall was not painful

It was the landing 

That did the damage 

And left him wondering

What the fuck happened

it is gone.
unable to be found
beneath desks, in pockets, or purses or bags.
is it my fault?
or did the universe lift it from my grasp
with tendrils of glee?
i cannot find it anywhere.
no matter the hours spent-
wasted(?)
it is gone.
and perhaps i look to the galaxies
to find fault
because i don’t want to face the reality
that i lost it
and it is unable to be found.

During June in Vietnam, lotuses are harvested—taller
than a person, pale green stems, bumpy pods.
In sunlight, shoots flash like wheat  

tinged with crimson, & in moonlit rays they swirl
jade.  From above, the leaf hats of women
who bind the stems glow like golden  

orbs in the curves of the plants, winding like rough
snakes on river, their heads spiked electric
pink.  From a basket boat,  

a girl plucks a sheaf from water, smiling at the splash
made amid the sky-laden river punctuated
with the green gleam of umbrella  

leaves.  From the effort of kneel & bend, probe & pull
come tea & Goi & a wrap for rice, petals
the color of myoga rising  

from our olive & nightingale-brown pond, always
reminding us to look up
& drink deep.                                    

~inspired by the photographs of Pham Trung Huy

sky blue like fluffy candy
but the clouds are dark like concrete roads
water pours onto the windshield
it seems that there’s no sunshine or rainbows
the highway seems everlasting 
oh to be at the mountain where we’ll go