Odyssey
I spent most of my life trying to find my way back home.
When I finally returned,
it wasn’t there.
The little bugs come with orchids oh
Unrooted trees appear again tonight
With branches, strange, that sway against the wind
So I alight—a light! Take flight
Abdomen that blinks when time is right
Attracts the mate that lonely hearts will mend—
Unrooted trees appear again tonight!
Path blocked when flying left or flying right
Plans laid to waste, my lonely heart does rend
So I alight—a light! Take flight
Were these strange branches sent by larger lights?
Were messages, so long, to recommend
Unrooted trees appear again tonight?
Large females, with their abdomens so bright,
What male existing possibly attends?
So I alight—a light! Take flight
Away, off, far into the night
To yonder mates out there, my wings do wend—
Unrooted trees appear again tonight!
So I alight—a light! Take flight
conform conform conform
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conform conform conform
conform conform conform
conform r e s i s t conform
conform conform conform
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conform conform c o n f o resist
I saw him there,
Upon a log,
Shoulders hunched,
Like a calico frog,
Frozen it seemed,
His gaze was fixed,
Upon the water,
Flowing betwixt,
Where he sat,
And his mortal foe,
That swims the ripples,
There below.
Is he a wizard?,
With a Zebco wand,
Or and acolyte,
With a thin long frond.
He scans the waters,
With eyes like steel,
And pulls from the deep,
His evening meal.
I know I’m not everyone’s cup of tea and I don’t allow everyone to touch my fine china—
it’s too delicate.
They say don’t pour from an empty glass, so what do I serve them if I have nothing to give?
Do I still have to be hospitable?
Should I let them “wine?”
I’m not trying to waste a good pour on poor company,
or, play pretend with imaginary “friends,”
sipping with a digit up.
(The middle is the best choice, perhaps.)
Well, if I have to entertain because it’s the polite thing to do,
guess I should give them something.
You can lead a horse to the water, but you can’t make him drink.
So, I’ll give them something to think.
Straight from the kettle.
Because, boy, they sure like to meddle.
Give them some hot “tea” to pour out,
quenching their thirst because they have nothing better to talk about.
Give it to them straight from the horse’s mouth.
Familiar Face
What dust
gathers sad shape
rises in ghostly form
every lonely morning… sister,
that you?
* * * * *
Irritant
Is it
my demeanor
that so much bothers you,
my brash, cavalier attitude?
Tough beans.
* * * * *
Coming Soon
We odds,
weirdos, the strange,
are allowed to be free
despite what the powers believe.
Rise up.
* * * * *
Matter of Time
The cat
here knows nature
better than you or I
leave it to her to find the mouse.
Relax.
* * * * *
AutoPilot for your Love
I think
I’m losing it
when I’m in your orbit
too many Gs, lose pitch and yaw,
bail out.
* * * * *