Posts for 2020 (page 3)

Category
Poem

Time Warp

I haven’t been
inside a store
since early March.
Time is in limbo
between eras back
before people had
cars to go places,
and now when we
have the internet.
I took it for granted
hopping from my car
and walking across
the parking lot,
through those
automatic doors
on a summer day,
the frigid AC
pressing the heat
from outside
against my skin –
I carried that feeling
all the way to
frozen foods
in the back
of the store.
It’s like another
reality away
I lived in long ago
when bleaching
your groceries
made you
the crazy one.


Category
Poem

Didn’t Want It Enough

One more drive, he thinks
Passing under sagging power lines
The car’s engine grumbling its complaints
As it strains in third gear
But the driver is distracted by a beautiful pasture
The dying light of the sun setting it aglow
The grand finale as it begins its daily descent
He arrives at the base of the mountain
But even now, he’s not ready
He’ll do a lap through town and come back
The less to see the better
Houses full of memories are littered around
They act as checkpoints
Each one lined up for a wave, as the parade rolls by

An old duplex that friends moved out of last year
The gutter pipe on the side that he puked on
The night after an appendectomy, he could handle a drink, he said

The secluded farm estate that belonged to a local shop owner
Where a banging New Year’s party went down long ago
Which ended with him fearing that he would be penetrated in the night
By the owner, who kept sneaking out in his whitey tighties
To see if the boy was still awake

Finally an old home of his, about five homes ago
He has to go out of his way to see it, so he does
And each time he makes the detour it looks better than the last
Clearly belonging to responsible homeowners
He’s happy for them, but misses the shared evenings wtih friends
Strategy games and records in the living room
Hide and seek and drunken hollering out in the yard
He’s sure the neighbors are living peacefully these days

Nearly done with the tour
The mountain appears around the bend
And he can clearly see his destination, high above
It startles him to realize that even from here
He wouldn’t just be a speck of dust against the evening sky
But a flailing mess, each quivering limb
Clearly visible, seen
Wasn’t the whole point of this endeavor to be invisible?
As in life, so in death?
He’s not prepared for this revelation
He finds the car contuining past the entrance gate
Guess tonight wasn’t the night after all

Another shock
A desperate scream escapes his mouth
Filling the cab with hideous noise
A thousand tiny knives cutting his throat
He can almost taste the blood
Boiling, overheating
The poor car groans again, stuck
He pulls over, dizzy
Across the way, another golden pasture
A herd of cattle slowly trundling together along the fenceline
Tails swishing behind them in unison
He smiles, in spite of himself
Some moments are too beautfiul to ignore


Category
Poem

Summer Fades

Dark clouds in the sky

But no rain

The last day of June

As summer fades on

Wind sweeping our hair

And heat dropping our sweat

Adventures have filled our days

I wonder what’s next


Category
Poem

Black Widow

The black widow spider, 
and his sad fate- 
She roused his passion, 
then ate her mate. 


Category
Poem

There will be love

There will be love  

poetry for me to write,
with vivid images of small things
and changes like the seasons,
as beautiful as the flight of an eagle.

There will be love

with the moon in black of night–
the rare song a jungle bird sings,
melodious for many reasons
for love–perhaps more regal.

There will be love

and love will have its start,
a midlife crisis, or an end,
but you will be beautiful
best when you dance.

There will be love,

a woman decorated as art,
a riddle of movement as of wind,
unseen, but felt full
circle, and there will be more romance

than less of it.


Category
Poem

Art is polarizing

who stockpiled dogmatic ordnance in this modality?
I descry in orthographic terms,
untrammeled, though restive with improvidence
A puissant grandee
Of girdle town usa?

I sell reflections for the windows
The radiant energy of now
My friend is this little plant
So pretty in pink

Laying tiles over the piano yard
like biblioreference cards
Yon are years
long with empty horizons
To fill

The moon is at half
The transition of the dog to man
Or cat to woman
Staring down of the Pharoahs
And Star Beings
Commences

What is denser
Than light
What is denser

Running barefoot with baby ducks
In puddles
And playing chess with seals

My knickering chinook
Pithy
Calumniated
Tergiversating
Rapt integuement
Disabusing antipathetic confreres
In breach of recognizance
Common cur of currency
In hot breath, sanguinary
Seamy Indigent ascendancy


Category
Poem

The Speed of Life

It happens quickly,
the chubby arms of a child
clinging to my neck one day,
and too soon those arms are around someone else

The busy early days of motherhood
fade into the days of the empty nest
The days and weeks rush by
until I hardly recognize the person in the mirror

Life’s purpose changes as the seasons pass,
yet, the days are rich with love
I am blessed, yet sometimes I miss yesterday,
when I was young and my kids were small

I miss the days of sticky kisses
and tackle hugs and problems to solve
that ended with grateful affection,
the days of long ago

However, each day is a gift
so, I will hold on to the important things
as the days rush by
at the speed of life


Category
Poem

Parting Wish

I’ll take the opportunity,
with all due sincerity, to wish
each poet here prosperity,
and we here all know
just what that means.
Not to necessarily,
gain wealth or popularity,
but instead to capture clarity,
if only fleeting, momentarily,
and live into that poetry.


Category
Poem

Border

                                          —after Robert Frost

There’s something there is

That doesn’t love a wall,
that leans ladders against it
so desperate mothers and fathers and sisters and brothers and sons and daughters
can spill over the top.

The work of saws is another thing.
The builders come after to repair
and ask what materials can be used
That will be impervious to violation.

There is something there is that loves a wall,
That spends enough money on it
To feed the people of a starving country,
To house a nation of homeless.

The work is called superlative
and touted as a solution to problems
a wall can never solve.

It’s sunk deep in concrete
In the dry ground of the already unwelcoming desert
And soars high above the slow-blooming cactus.
What more deterant does such a wall need?

But demoralized people don’t stop to ask
if the wall is there to keep them out
or to protect them from what’s within.

The adage isn’t always right;
Fences don’t always
make good neighbors


Category
Poem

Empty houses

They echo so much more
than you think, the remnants
of a life gone by, hiding
around every corner.