Posts for June 9, 2022 (page 8)

A distorted sight
Underwater-like echo
Turbid defiance

Silent disturbance
A beryl convolution
One frangible sluice

Drops of tenderness
Waltzing not missing a beat
To Buckets of awe

Before Us,
the buzzard picks
squirrel meat
from the high grass
of a gentle hill.

After Us,
the buzzard picks
squirrel meat
from the sidewalk
along Sir Barton Road.

They’re changing the sky!
It’s not the same blue!
A greying man yells at no one, 
To anyone who will listen.

I wonder who the they is
in his claim

What kinds of sources 
He’s vetted
In coming to this particular conclusion

Which Alex Joneses and Joe Rogans
Have convinced him 
That it’s not just his own aging eyes
Seeing things a bit differently now
After all these years.

Once I rode a bus with a bunch of hippies
Summer is a good time to go wild

        I used to get wild in the summer
        If the cops come, tell them we are friends

It is a friend’s bus when the cops come
To take money you have to have a permit

        If you have a permit you can take money
        Some people run to escape from life

Running is a good way to escape
A rocket can take you to the moon

        You can take a rocket to outer space
        There are so many ways to get high

If you want to get high there are many ways
Once I rode a bus with a bunch of hippies.

“Are
you
lone-
ly?”
asked
two.
“No,”
an-
swered
one.
“Not
at
all.”
“Are
you?”

I feel frozen in place
with a mountain before me
there is no way around,
I must scale it to move forward

Refusing to believe that I CAN”T
I take a step
reaching forward 
clasping the impossible

When I have a foothold
and a grip
I continue to move
because moving is winning

Feeling like I will never
conquer the task
will not move me forward
so I advance out of sheer will

Knowing that I will not be free
until I do either succeed
or fail is motivation
to keep moving forward and upward

I have no idea what I am doing
but I am no longer frozen in place
the more that I move forward
peace embraces me

The Pervert or The Teenage Boy With a Camera

He found an almost ripe
peach, cut out a piece,
exposed meat and pit,
placed it between her lips.  

He said it was a photo shoot
for a class on fruit,
told her to spread her bare
legs just a little wider.  

A frame for the succulent
orb, he explained.  He acted
like a director, showed disdain
when the ball of sweetness fell  

from its purposed place.
She thought he was an artist.

Last night I dreamed I was at Chase Lake,
in the little cabin my parents built. 
Mom and Dad and Aunt Maggie were there.
We ate chicken and sweet corn on the screened porch.

In the little cabin my parents built
beside the lake in the southern Adirondacks
we ate chicken and sweet corn on the screened porch.
The setting sun painted clouds red and gold.

Beside the lake in the southern Adirondacks
summers were magic, winters silent white.
The setting sun painted clouds red and gold
when we paddled the canoe out after dinner.

Summers were magic, winters silent white.
Then, quicker than thought, the cabin was sold.
We paddled the canoe out after dinner
not knowing it would be the last time.

Quicker than thought, the cabin was sold.
Mom and Dad and Aunt Maggie are dead.
We never knew it would be the last time.
Last night I dreamed I was at Chase Lake.

Kayaking on the Cumberland,
a late Tuesday afternoon.
The water is glistening,
placid, and cool.

The boats are silent
and tied to their docks.
My ears are grateful
and the kayak won’t rock.

I am in total peace
paddling on the lake.
Personal time with nature
is my dessert for the day.

once I was a rose pedal,
lost my grip and fell,
floated slowly to the Earth,
and decomposed just there

once I was a twisty twig,
lifted by beak to air,
placed tenderly within the nest,
made bed by momma’s care

once I was a puff of smoke
from grandfather’s ancient pipe
I hung in the air for one breath or two,
and quickly left from sight

once I was your lover
and pulled your body close
I whispered all that I did want
and after, quiet doze