Posts for June 24, 2022 (page 9)

In elementary school the purple 

this life offers so many ways in which to
engage
it took me a minute to choose that word
engage
because while we’ve had times which called us together in
engagement
we are not there now being
engaged
connection is currently
almost passe do you too feel the desperation in the air to once again be married in this
way which really is as simple as doing whatever it takes to grab
god round the waist and pull them from the cave to which they’ve been
relinquished
give up our ego humanity in order to
capture this divine
we have in us and between us once again
unclench
the tight bind put on the soul fearing the unrest of the world let the truth of this
transcend current humanity
again
pick that lock

The first page of Finnegan’s Wake is proof God hates us and wants us to be unhappy.

Midsummer’s Eve lit up the narrows, the roads to my home

as I pored through the unforgettable tome. I realized the book had finally killed me.

Look for me in the city… I am lost. Look for me here. You’ll never find me.

The lusty ghosts of Dalí and Lorca flirt, Lorca unconsummated and painted in words

congregated with grief the way Dalí wanted it, as our Andalou barked 

up any tree that listened, broken by the refusal, wounded because God hated him 

and wanted him to be unhappy.  The hound!

Write to me immediately, I cannot wait longer to know how you are. Won’t you?

Tell the children how I am, but with the milk of kindness, not of my dreams shouting 

Bababadalgharaghtakamminarronnkonnbronntonnerronntuonnthunntrovarrhoun

awnskawntoohoohoordenenthur nuk!  I am bewildered by boisterous thunder.

The pain was so great at age six or seven, I wished I might die, and quickly.

Now I am in bed in the bush of ghosts, jilted by my lover, drunk and joylessly babbling.

watch
            as carob cuts clouds
            parting for the eagle 
            approaching the summit,

                        wings weather 
                        the accruing chill 
                        with apathetic familiarity, 

                                                eyes, rimmed gold,
                                                reflecting azure sky,
                                                combat the sun’s ferocity,

                                                                        it ascends the tips
                                                                        of mountain peaks, 
                                                                        plunges, becomes a cold, 
                                                                                                    whispering 
                                                                                    streak, 

                                                its corded body crumples 
                                                against the canopy of trees, 
                                                beak upturned,

                        submits to its last voyage,
                        plummet paints the path 
                        for its approach to
another summit.

The sight of fireflies on a June night
while watering the garden and
I am transported back to a yard
full of trees, on a hill in eastern
Kentucky.
Somewhere a whip poor will 
remembers my call.

From the house I can hear my
father still working, hammering
one last board before stopping for
the night.

I am safe among the trees as their
shadows fade into dusk. I can find
my way in the dark, capturing the
illusive luminous insects carefully
in a Mason jar.

I will fall asleep to their pulsating
lights, and they will be given 
freedom by the same hands that
weilded the hammer and
kissed me goodnight.

KW
6/22/2022

Milkweek, Columbine, 
Butterfly Bush and Dahlia –
I am inviting you Monarch 
and Honey Bee, Bumble Bee
and Swallowtail.
Come dine in my garden,
I welcome your appetites.

KW
6/23/2022

Wasting the day away, bouncing in air, you jump without care
You spin and add flare, excitement you share

Looking obscene jumping post caffeine on a trampoline

You take a dive down a slide start to glide and feel alive

You regroup to swoop for an Alley-oop into the hoop

Ending too out of breath to chat from performing as an acrobat