Winter Mix

* * *


110101

NEW YEAR’S DAY

This day—
ostensibly about time,
but falling as it does
on a date of no particular
astronomic significance—
should serve as a reminder
that names of things
and ideas about things
often obscure the
nature of things.


101231

STAY OF EXECUTION

Leaves are dancing
up from the ditches
this warm December day,
resurrected by swirling
winds of protestation;
the year, apparently,
is not ready to die.


101230

LEFTOVERS

Those both old and bereft
cling all the tighter
to what is left.


101229

PROBLEM PEOPLE

Why are they
so difficult; so stubborn;
so unwilling to capitulate
to our superior wisdom—
and why,
when we visit their houses,
must we suffer the meagerness
of their offerings?


101228

CURE-ATOR

God,
have you any therapy
for the pain of being,
and of being me?

Such therapy is yours alone,
for the pain you’re feeling
you create and own.
When you think as I,
pain will go away:
“I’m okay. You’re okay.”

­­­­­­­­­­­­­___________

Today I found this poem note,
dated 091025:

wind
shepherds
leaves
across
road


101227

TO YOUR HEALTH

Happiness
involves a task
and, no, it isn’t drinking;
before you think
a thought again—ask,
“Is that thought
worth thinking?”


101226

UPWARD PATH

“Guide my way,”
I again consent.

To renew ascent,
I renew assent.


101225

THE GIFT OF THE PRESENT

No matter, hopes of Christmas Future
or joys of Christmas Past;
we are Guests of Christmas Present,
which can hardly be surpassed.


101224

PAMPERED

My sweetie makes me coffee.
He brings me toast and jam.
He claims that I’m his honey
and makes me glad I am.


101223

DESIGNER
TOUCH

Life is kinder
than we think
or can think;
when we notice,
we call this
serendipity.


101222

COMING APART
AT THE SEEMS

All I know I know
is how things seem to me,
including this self-same me
that seems to seem to be.


101221

SEASON GREETING

Ah! My favorite time of year
when I enjoy—and wish for you—
a very and most-merry,
thrilling, dance-enhancing,
whoppingly exciting,
gleeful, cheerful new debut
of joyous Christmas shopping.


101220

RELIEF IS ON
THE WAY

A nightmare
is a lie you keep
until you rouse
your self from sleep.

Suspect there are
(to be let go)
“truths” you know
that are not so.


101219

EXASPERATION

Emma has been banished
from the bed
in hopes she’ll use a
proper pee-place instead.


101218

WHAT I LIKE

I like to go, I like to do,
I like to think and write, and then
I like to go and do it all again.


101217

DIS-BANDED

What is a ring to a marriage?
I lost mine yesterday,
trying to keep it safe.

My hand
mourns like an orphan;
my heart grieves like a waif.

What is a ring to a marriage?
I lost mine yesterday,
trying to play it safe.


[ASIDE: As instructed, I put all my jewelry in my pocket
before touring a food-processing plant. Several events later,
my wedding ring was the only item that had somehow escaped.
The loss prompted thoughts about priorities, spouses, possessions, etc.]


101216

NO GOOD CHOICE

Setting the alarm for five
wakes you up at four.

But if you didn’t set it,
at six you’d be a-snore.


101215

INTIMIDATIONS
OF MORTALITY

My cat puts his face
near mine each night,
then (sometime later)
his rear—
which means
that I begin each day
knowing the end is near.


101214

OLD AGE BENEFITS

I'm old—trust me—
but young enough to thrill
to a birthday card from my mom
with a twenty-dollar bill.


101213

DECISIONS,
DECISIONS

Colon or semi?
I haven’t a clue.
Maybe a dash
or comma will do.

If you think prose
is hard, well—foo!
just try poems;
they’ll try you.


* * *

Age—It's All the Rage

* * *


101213

DECISIONS,
DECISIONS

Colon or semi?
I haven’t a clue.
Maybe a dash
or comma will do.

You think prose
is hard? Well, foo!
Just try poems;
they’ll try you.


101212

EARTH DAYS

“What a party;
but look at the hour!”

“Hey, old folks!
Yeah, hey YOU—
what are you
still doing here?”

“Frankly, we
don’t have a clue.
Take it up with
your Higher Power.”


101211

AS IS

Mean. Funny.
Friendly. Sad.

Of people,
little kids
don’t think
should be,
shouldn’t be.
What they
think is—is.


101210

WISDOM AND GRACE

Youth is the time
when life’s blessings are granted—
and taken for granted.

Old age is the time
when (to those who haven’t
already become wise)
life grants its greatest
understanding and blessing—
appreciation.


101209

IMPERMANENCE

Frost and green grass?
That won’t last long!


101208

UNBLEMISHED

Snarl, bite, curse,
do far worse;
my soul knows yours
as lustrous, pure.

The more troublesome
you become
(the more you break the rules,
attempting to break out
of the broken state you’re in),
the more you win
the love I’ve won myself
and now can do no other
than to offer.


101207

CARTOON AVATARS

One friend is a little stinker;
another, a happy cat.
There's a turtle, a top-cat, a martian—
and what-the-sam-heck is THAT?
There's a smiley one, a wiley one,
a minnie and a mighty one.
One's ghostly, one's speedy, one's jolly,
and one is blue, by golly.
There's a loopy one, a boopy one...
and I'm the snoopy artist one.


101206

CHRISTMAS PARADE

Winter dark and winter cold
seek something wondrous to behold:
like this festival of sound and light
that sparkles ‘round the town tonight.

Flatbed trucks transform to floats.
Beauty queens forego their coats.
Boom-boom-BOOM! The band plays loud.
Everyone’s enchanted… proud.
And there are angels in the crowd


101205

BEST FEATURE

Ours is a too-cold,
too-warm house.
It’s fairly open,
so we go barefoot
in the upstairs rooms
and sweatered down below.

One wall consists of windows
a full two stories high.
It only costs some northern cold
to view that northern sky.


101204

"SOCIAL" GROUPS

From surprise to frustration
and, ultimately, prayer;
group interactions
so often take me there.


101203

LOWER-CRUST
REBELLION

Don't call us crass,
or second class,
or dumb.

Don’t press us
under thumb.

We’ve been peons
for eons;
now that’s done.

You say cream floats—
but so does scum.


101130

THEY KNOW NOT
WHAT THEY DO

People
make so many people
miserable,
insisting on making them
happy.


101129

DEATH’S DOOR

Am I completely—
or just partly—mortal?

To my knowledge,
I’ve not yet
crossed that portal.


101128

LATEST TOPIC

Old age this.
Old age that.
What’s the fascination?

Discovery,
at least by me,
that it’s dilation,
not contraction.


101127

FEASTS FOR THE SENSES

Delights! Delights!
Everywhere and every when—
from last song of swan
to first note of wren.

Something’s always brewing.
Something’s always cooking.

Surely you haven’t stopped looking!


101126

IN WINTER COLD

Some written warmth
can be a shawl,
or a filling-in
of a chink in a wall.


101125

JO’S GIRLS (for my sibbles)

Five Little Peppers—
how they grew!

We wanted
to be like them, too;
poor and loving,
curious, bold.

We grew those ways,
and also old.


101124

MY COY MUSE-TRESS

I asked her help, a little.

She asked me a riddle:
What rhymes with "muse?"

"Come on, come on!"
she laughed. "Refuse!"


101123

FINALLY
QUALIFIED

Think about it—
if anybody’s
going to
explore and
write about
old age;
don’t you think
it should be
an old person?


101122

MIRROR MIRAGE

When I press upward
on my cheeks,
my younger face is there;
a toppled doppelgänger.
I must be careful not to stare.


101121

MINOR SHIFT

Once there was
a little girl
who loved to
(not write!) color.

Now she writes,
most every day,
some little thing
or other.


101120

HUMANS BEING

Their thoughts and acts stay bloody,
but reasons why stay muddy.
They fiercely study, but scarcely guess,
the whys of their perniciousness.


101119

RETRACTIONS

I don’t put pomes
on my action list
but very rarely
are they missed,
(except for times
when I’m feeling dull;
then, much I write,
I quickly cull).


* * *

Love of What Is

* * *


101021

LIFE’S A BREACH

Breakthrough
can be double win:
breakthrough out,
breakthrough in.


101020

CATERED TO

Ah, here comes the morning;
something brings the sun.

Someone brings me coffee;
blessings on that one.


101019

WELL SERVED

Not only am I blessed,
but able to tell
how blessed I am:
Alive and well.


101018

LUNCHBOX PARADOX

Self, must I send you back to school?
A sweet is not a healthy treat.
And don’t forget Prime Diet Rule:
The more you eat, the more you eat.


101017

CAELUM IN TERRA (for Fay Jean)

One joy
(so long longed-for)
life graciously sends…
one long conversation
with one long-time friend.


101016

WEEKEND, WITH FRIEND

Nothing is an effort;
all is light and grace.
In our time together,
things just fall in place.


101015

CONSTANCY

Over and over
life answers its own quiz,
sometimes with fizzle,
sometimes with fizz—
always conveying
love of what is.


AL FRESCO (for Fay Jean)

Sundown
on the terrace—
a spectacular view,
wine, food, conversation…
all of this, and you.


101014

TROWELING IT ON

My work grows ever more concise
as my time grows shorter.
Once I placed a brick a day;
now, little more than mortar.


101013

NOS IAM VICTORES

We
who are about to die
salute ourselves.


101012

ADS SUBTRACT

I rarely mention politics,
not because it’s fiddlesticks,
sleight-of-hand, or lies-and tricks;
campaign ads just leave me blitzed.


101011

TIME, WELL, SPENT

There always seems
so much to do—
so forgotten
once I’m through.


* * *

Short and Sweet (Mostly)

* * *


100922

SENSE-LESS

I watch near-blinded as,
from the round of its bucket,
the sun drops molten light
onto evening waves.
I must be near-deaf as well,
hearing no hiss of steam.


100921

MELLOW

I feel peace
(though no push or pull)
and cannot say
whether I’m empty or full.


100920

“THE” ANSWER

It’s all
so simple, really—
so really simple,
I simply forgot.


100919

INCOMING MESSAGE

What fool would be awake
and writing at one a.m.?
Besides myself, I mean.


100918

CONFECTION

Love it all
for its own sake;
the peace of God
is a piece of cake.


100917

AHHHH – HA!

Brilliant!
Utter simplicity.
Why am I happy?
Because I want to be!


100916

MIS-HEARD

You didn’t hear
the thunderstorm?
No, I was asleep.

Dreamin’?
Uh-huh… freezing…
back in Korea…
and other demons, too.


ARRIVAL

Things come e-mail;
things come snail.
Things come true, too,
like that, from you.
(The check was in the mail.)


100915

MOTIVACATION

I know I care;
I care a lot.
I’m just not sure
what about.


100914

FOR BETTER, FOR WORSE

Friends, friends, friends—
whatever we’re in for,
we’re in it as friends.


100913

FORCED
REMOVAL

Cat gave
the bed
another douse—
that’s why
she’s now
in the doghouse.


* * *

Yours, Mine, Hours

* * *


100831

LOVE ME, LOVE MY

Books, movies,
restaurants,
car shows, lectures,
favorite haunts.

Yours and mine,
mine and yours—
hours and hours
have made these ours.


LET IT FALL

September,
please
do.

Do not refrain.

Please,
September,
bring us rain.


HIATUS

A change of pace,
a time of grace—
a day with no
“to do” to do.
Except refresh.
Except renew.


100830

HELP! HELP!

“Here I come
to save the day!”

That means
that Mighty Muse
is on the way.


100829

FRISCO FEST

An August Saturday
with a touch of breeze;
a taste of fall.

We walk and walk
without regard to knees.
It’s a car show, after all.


100828

ENOUGH

Here I am.
Stopped.
Empty.
Alone with everything.
Understanding nothing.

Pain, puzzlement,
pleasure, peace—
indistinguishable.

To whom
do I sing
my death song?


100827

A PRINCE
OF A FRIEND (for Mike)

Spirit unbroken,
as body allowed
he ran his life’s course.

Now,
there’s a hole
in the world
in the shape
of a horse.


QUIT

To live:
to die
to death.


100826

RX: R&R

My brain
has lost its head
of steam.

Let it rest.
Let it dream.


“COMPLETE” JOY

Frisky as a kitten,
happy as a pup—
at least on this work item,
I’m at last caught up!


MIDDLE WHITTLE

Life keeps getting harder;
tougher day by day.
Some keep busy working
while others take their pay.


100825

WACKY WHACK

Summer heat got out of whack—
then, like some mad and mythic cat
that arched so high it broke its back,
it lost its power to attack.


100824

THIS TUESDAY

Days are like friends.
You have to know ‘em.
Be attentive; show it.

Here’s a day
that calls for a poem,
if you happen to be a poet.


100823

LIFE TIME

It’s all a gift.

No need or reason
to deserve it.

No way to save it
or reserve it.

No means to keep it
or conserve it.

Just enjoy it
and observe it.


* * *

Life, with Animals

* * *

100605

TIME OUT, ALREADY!

Foo, foo, foo! Foo and fudge!
Things go badly when we judge.
He’ll suggest, plead or nudge.
She’s entrenched; she won’t budge.
She is nursing some old grudge.

[ASIDE: Someone discussing WWI and WWII
mentioned “old grudges” (which take place
at many levels).]


100604

DUCK CALLS

“He’s a she,”
my brother announced.
So Buddy became Bootie—
appropriate for a duck’s physique,
we thought.
Quattro, on the other hand (or wing),
was so called for failure to flock
with the triplets, unnamed.
Now he’s part of a duo.
That’s how fairy tales end these days.


SOGGY SAGA

That title sounds trite.
The situation is not.
Three lives were lost overnight.

I feel responsible,
though no one is certain of the cause—
the stormy night?
snapping turtle or other predator?
waterlogging?
I was warned about waterlogging.

Today’s report from the pond
is that Bootie and Quattro
(duck and duckling)
spent the entire afternoon side by side,
making exploratory excursions on the pond.

If one duckling survived, why not four?

About this mystery,
investigations reveal nothing,
the only evidence being non-evidence.
The verdict, however, is clear:
humans are not in charge,
nor should they be.


WRITE NOW

Well,
here’s a chance
to go to bed early,
something I fancy
clearly and surely.

But,
there’s a spot
still blank on the page
and a poetic urge
that must be assuaged.


100603

BACK ON THE WAGON

The re-beginning
is the most important
part of the work.


INTERVENTION

When cats claw
or dogs are yappy,
when you’re feeling
sad or sappy—
with a lilt,
sing, “I feel crappy!”
Silliness induces happy.


100602

PEKINS: $4

Practically speaking,
our duck was an orphan,
and that would not do—
so nothing would do
but to purchase four
more ducks via Craigslist.

The price was a clue
to their size, but we were
clueless going in.

Turned out,
they were just old enough
for swimming, so we
turned them out at the pond.

Practically speaking,
our orphan duck became
an unexpectant mama.
Let’s see how she does.


100601

SAW DUST

That bumble-
sized bee
boring holes
in our home’s
fascia boards?
That would be
a wood bee.

[ASIDE: Also known as a carpenter bee.]


FRUIT
ENROUTE

Went out
walking
today,
thoughtless,
like a
sleepwalker.

Returned,
empty-handed,
but with a
mulberry
aftertaste.


SKIN THAT ONE, PILGRIM,
AND I’LL GITCHA ANOTHER

Bless me,
but it’s been a while,
this turn at life—
each turn of dial,
each turn of stile,
each trip down aisle,
each phase, each style.

Mercy,
but it’s been a while!

[ASIDE: A sometimes yearning for
a fresh start or reset button.]


100531

SINGLE WHITE FEMALE

Neighbors got involved.
Long story short:
duck is now ensconced
on my brother’s farm and pond.
Efforts are underway
to secure suitable companionship.


DOUBLE TROUBLE

Mattress pad, comforter (placed
underneath the sheets in summer),
fitted sheet, upper sheet, bedspread
(actually, a heavy decorative sheet)—
all of these were run through the laundry
twice today.

A certain feline someone
has developed a bad habit.
Before we named her Emma,
she was called Sweet Trouble.


* * *

Confetti

* * *


100515

WRITER
WORKSHOP

Rain
stops
(now and then)
its patter;
birds,
their chirping;
writers, too,
their chirping pens.


ROLE WITH
THE PUNCHES

I am the writer,
the recorder,
the observer.
Clout? I doubt.

She—let it be—
is the teacher.


PEONIES (for Carrie)

Why peonies?

Why today
white ruffled peonies—

in her email,

in our remembrances
of kleenex flowers
on bobbie-pin stems,

in those two faded flowers on display
at that bookstore counter,

in the first poem encountered now
in Mary Oliver’s book?


[ASIDE: Inspired by a Twitter comment.]


BACK-TO-BARK

Every day is an experiment:
a reaching out
to whatever is reaching back.

This day’s experiment:
place my back to the bark of a tree,
spine to spine,
as close as we can get
and be.


MEDIUM, MESSAGE

Paper is a pleasure
to brush against,
to stroke,
to rub between fingers
until it pop-pop-pops.


CONFETTI

the look of wonder
on an eighty-year-old face

my fat pen
in use again

when it’s given right, let it be

that black line of cloud,
so un-menacing
in retreat


[ASIDE: Leftover bits from writing exercises]


100514

LEARN ME

sights and wonders
places to go

tell me
teach me
take me—
share and show

take me
tell me
teach me—
I so want to know


100513

SCAREDY

I love it
(find it quite exciting)
when lightning blast
and thunder crash
put every cat in hiding.


100512

TRANSIENTS

Thoughts—
catch, then hold them?
No net is that fine.

Thoughts are not me—
are not even mine.


100511

HOW THESE THINGS WORK

It wasn’t even a job offer,
just a statement of pay parameters
and notice of further applicant scrutiny.

I was the applicant.

The pay was low, the commute
and hours long, and the work—well,
unenchanting to someone else
I knew, who knew.

I’d been spoiled.
Two months earlier, I had interviewed
with the company for the job—
the one I really wanted.
But nothing had come of that.

I contrasted the two scenarios to my husband,
a multi-tasker who continued browsing the web,
scanning emails, and checking phone messages
as I spoke. Then he turned to me with a smirk.

“What?” I asked, irritated.

“You need to know how these thing work,”
he coached, handing me the phone.
“Call for you. It’s the company.”


THE MAGICAL KINGDOM

Serendipity.
Wish fulfillment.
Placebos.
Self-fulfilling prophecies.
Superstitions.
Delusions of power.

Beware of magical thinking,
children, artists, and
dreamers are cautioned.

But think about it:
isn’t all thinking magical?


OPTIONAL

Take
an ordinary
sentence;
break it into bits;
run it
down the page
and, voilà!
a poem
(title optional).


100510

SUN STROKE OF LUCK

After an afternoon sunbath,
I moved to a set of worn
west-facing wooden steps and
continued warming myself there.

Close by,
yellow-headed
dandelions bloomed

The nearest caught my attention.
While I stared, completely absorbed,
background greenery
went glittery, then monochrome
(black, white, silver, gray)
as the blossom intensified
its yellow—like a radiant sun
against a lucent nighttime sky.

How did I chance
to witness that?


* * *

Floral Scented Potpourri

* * *

100420

READING BETWEEN THE LIONS

Stopped in my tracks
by dandelions—
yellow circles coming into flower,
white spheres going into seed—
I start to track
the over-long overlooked;
that missing phase between.


100419

BIZARRE BAZAAR

Well, Mr. Omnipotent,
I hope you’ve enjoyed
your little game.

About what to believe,
about how to behave—
you’ve stumped me.
I give up.


100418

OCCUPIED

You know the kind:
immersed in passions
at which they flounder.

Critics pan.
Leeches pander.
Life and livelihood get sucked in.
Do they mind?
Nah—happy as clams.


100417

FINAL TANDEM

Not fallen petals
carpeting the orchard,
mirroring pink above with pink below,
but branches pruned at winter’s end—

they flower now in final tandem
with former fellows
reprieved short weeks ago.


100416

SEPARATE WORLDS

Do you want the left world
or the right? the up or down?
the dark or light?
Take whichever pleases you.
I don’t want to fight.


100415

MOST FAVORED

Book or pen,
pen or book?

How hard my life, if I forsook
book or pen, pen or book.


100414

IMPACT

Thunk!
By the time I raced outdoors
the bird was in the jaws of the cat,
who released it to me on request—
a woodpecker.

The long beak,
knocked sideways into the chest
by force of impact,
was plastered with breast feathers.
The breast muscle had been split.
The body was limp and lifeless
except for one eyelid blinking,
one eye roving.

Now—
now that the body, recovered, has flown,
where does the eye rove;
and, over what, the mind?


100413

ONE IOTA FOR MY QUOTA

My five-
dandelion bouquet is three-
fifths faded, my day is four-
and I am more.
One thing left: this poem chore.


DECISIONS, DECISIONS

You can know too much.

At least I can know too much.
Knowing, for instance,
that the least-used restroom stall
is nearest or farthest from the restroom door,
I stop, in spite of urgency, to consider:
which stall do I actually use most often?
Which least? Which did I use last time?
Do I want variety,
so as not to fall into habitual ruts?
Why—if I choose number one this time—
do I do that? am I afraid of something about
numbers two, three, four…?

But let me assure you—
considering my total life experience,
I conclude quickly and accurately about one thing:
any women's stall is more likely to be clean
than any men’s.


100412

BOOK-COVER DESIGN ADVICE (for Cathi)

How much to kern is a matter of concern.
Visual vibration causes consternation.
Fonts should be few; in fact, two will do.
Zap all-caps QUICK in italic or script.
Let images illustrate (not negate or duplicate).
Avoid cliches, plus clip-art way out-of-date,
plus fonts too overused and tame.
Don't use your title as a frame.

[ASIDE: Commenting on a fellow writer's website.]


100411

ODD COUPLE

Raven roved, on the road
from Pittsburgh to Poughkeepsie.
Every time he went away,
that gypsy came back tipsy.

Elephant, his stay-at-home,
was plump from trunk to rump.
She never would be svelte;
at least that's how she felt.


[ASIDE: Wisdom House Books - Challenge:
use the words trunk, svelte, raven, gypsy]


100410

LOOTED

Tempted by a spray of golden forsythia
cascading over a country dirt-road fence,
I draw near, only to find the outermost stems
already snipped off and a cluster of
deer prints in the mud below.


100409

ALL THINGS OLD
MADE NEW AGAIN

Ah, the beauty of the world;
the bounty of our lives!

But Oh—first glimpse, first touch,
first whiff—the beauty of surprise!


100408

HARD TIMES

dandelion bouquet


HARD TIMES

at thrift store;
shopping specials only


HARD TIMES

pondering
less is more


HARD TIMES

in lap of luxury;
then luxury stood up


100407

DEPTH PERCEPTION

In dreams or visions,
what does mind's-eye know?
And does it see things plane
or in stereo?


100406

HER OWN SELF (for Annette)

Frida wore a nose and mouth;
that is how God made her.
Frida wore a unibrow;
no one could dissuade her.


* * *

Intimations of Mortality

* * *

100405

DRIFTER

Where the road ends—

where ceaseless waves of water
and waterlogged debris, suspended,
drift in and out, out and in—

someone faces the wind, chilling;
clouds, darkening;
day, dying;

someone stands immobile,
but for easeless waves of air
breathed in and out, out and in.


100404

WHY?

Doesn't it seem
that people's suffering
is out of all proportion
to any harm they've done—
or even
might have done
in purported prior lives?

What gives?
Who set this up?
If it’s all a game, who’s laughing?


MAD CHATTER

Don’t tell me you don’t have a thousand
voices in your head clamoring, ranting,
fuming, lampooning, and issuing commentary
via a thousand points of view. Don’t tell me you
don’t squelch them rather than belch them, or,
if warranted and you’re in the mood, invite them
to stay for tea or a similar heart-to-heart.


100403

LIMERICKS ON FREELANCE WRITING

There once was an Everyday Poet
who said, “I write well; let me show it.”
Her lance—like her fee
and her spirit—were free,
so soon she went broke, don’t you know it?

There twice was a writer who freelanced.
The first time he quit, his affianced
insisted he do.
Bad clients (time two)
showed him how, with his free lance, to be lanced.

And my favorite...

“Writer for Hire” is my trade.
Of blood, sweat and tears, I have made
my very life’s ink—
but freedom, I think,
is worth all the dues that I’ve paid.


100402

BUMMED

Want work an’ money, like other folk—
tired o’ bein’ so dam broke.


100401

PERSONAL FAVE

Chocolate cake—I gave a look.
Carrot cake—I partook.

Chocolate cake I can decline.
Carrot cake is too sublime.


100331

SWING SHIFT

woke up
half an hour early

rolled over
(big mistake)

showed up
groggy, surly—
half an hour late


100330

GLIMMERS
OF SUCCESS

Holey moley—,
‘bout damn time!

(Making progress slowly.)


100329

ASPIRING POETS—

You want to write right, right?
You want to read, read, read.


ELSEWHERE (for Carrie)

Missed the party;
don't know how.
All that fun!
All that chow!


* * *

Purple Prose and Poetry

* * *

100328

WRITERS OF THE PURPLE SAGE—

Ornate excess, clichés, and slang
overload the whole shebang.
Who can tame the purple page?
Who can spur your words to fly?

When you just can’t get the hang,
hang out with the Zane Grey gang—
masters of the purple sage;
sage “Guest Writers in the Sky."


100328

SURFACE FLAWS

With the touch of a wand
in those anti-wrinkle ads,
facial lines appear or disappear
to age or rejuvenate a face.

While personhood remains intact
behind placid model eyes,
skin conditions
condition perceptions.

Thankfully, the peekaboo
reveals how easily
even these mistakes can be undone;
with the touch of a wand.


100327

SHARED LUNCH

I knew what was up
the minute he proposed shopping
at straight-up noon.

Braum’s is the kind of place
where you can get
bananas and bread
along with your burgers and fries.

Half a loaf
went to the ducks
at the pond by the library.

The geese, Canadians,
barely deigned to sample.
The mallards grazed
but didn’t gobble.
It’s spring—
they have other things
on their minds.


100326

WHAT A DEAL!

I do my part;
he does his.
Mine involves
the shopping list.


ANSWER

There is an answer.
There is always an answer.
The only time
there is no answer
is when you pre-conclude
there is no answer.


* * *

Grammar of Friendship

* * *

100304

"NATIONAL GRAMMAR DAY" LIMERICK

There might come a time when I were.
This sounds almost wrong; I concur.
But, in grammar school,
subjunctive rules rule;
I’d be smart if I “were” to defer.

[ASIDE: This was done for a contest with a short deadline.
But I got caught away from the computer and wasn't able to
submit it on time.]


BELATED CARD

I may have forgotten your birthday AGAIN!
. . . and I may forget next year (it’s WHEN?)
but you’re on my mind most of the time
and I’m thrilled just to call you my FRIEND.


100303

FACILITATOR

She has no hesitation
to express her point of view.
She has no doubt we love her—
and so, no doubt, we do.


100302

TWITTER-TIME

Your words—so funny, sweet, and wise—
often fill me with surprise.
Greetings, all you Tweetie-Pies!


* * *

091227

COMPANIONS

Feeling lonely.
Feeling feeble.
Feeling lost and glum.

Lady Bug and Scarab Beetle—
how kind of you to come.

[ASIDE: December poem notes found and edited]


* * *

Birds and Bard (Dr. Seuss)

* * *

100302

THEODORABLE (for Carrie)

Happy Birthday, Dr. Seuss!

To you, I raise a glass of juiess,
saluting what your words prodeuss—
fun and joy that tame abeuss.
Thank you, Engine! Signed, Cabeuss.


PORTAL

When you choose
an opposite way;
when you lose your bearings,
all that you bear, and all
that has borne you;
when you cast yourself out—
as you exit the city gate, notice.

The little bird
hidden in the bush
beside your path
still sings for you
its melody of kindness.


100301

CONSIDER THE BIRDS

Consider the birds;
their value is immense.
Consider the world
with no insect defense.

One recent spring
bugs arrived early,
birds arrived late—
an incipient pestilence
slow to abate.

Consider the world
with yearly such springs.
Consider the world
with no birds in the wings.


“CATHARTES AURA”

When is a buzzard
not a buzzard?
When it never was!
(That’s the buzz. )

Europeans decry our
lack of orni-culture.
Hawk, they claim, is buzzard.
(Our buzzard is their vulture.)


* * *

Writer's Work

* * *


100117

WELCOME ASSIST

Tell me something, Muse.
Make my fingers move,
make this paper speak—

“I am valley depth.
I am mountain peak.
Before the any were,
before the all shall end,
I am what I seek.”


100116

WRITE ON

I write on the insides
of envelopes, on the backsides
of sales slips, on the margins
of magazine pages. . .

I write on life, death,
cosmos, humanity, nature,
emotion, language, imagination,
revelation, paradox,
cabbages, kings, the insides
of envelopes, the backsides
of sales slips, the margins
of magazine pages.
I write on and on and on. . .


100115

BEFRIENDING
THE ENEMY

Alright, pain.
Enter in.
Do your worst.
I will do better.


100114

HERE. WITH.

H ere, it clear.
O ther place, I no belong.
M y people with.
E very other place be wrong.


100113

BARE SCAT

exposed
upon the white expanse,
yet scarcely trackable—
a scribbled trail
of thought-droppings


100112

ESSENCE

Life is given,
not a given.


100111

AWAITED ONE

Wonder
of my wondering—
who are you?

Face to face,
some time, some place,
will it be meet
we meet?

You,
who will discover me—
what discovery
will you be?


* * *

New Year Musings

* * *

100101

NEW-YEAR DAWN

Some suns
(of course, there’s only one)
appear
at start of day or year
so loud.
BOOM! quite bright
and rowdy.

I’m enamored of today’s
and proud.
It gently burned its way
through overlays
of cloud.


SECOND HELPINGS

A word’s a tool
to help you think,
and it has tools
like pen and ink.


A HOT NEW YEAR!

Party early! Party late!
Dance! Have fun!

January one—
New Year’s come.
Mama’s got a hot new date!


SOURCE MATERIAL

If I asked my muse
for a music score,
or novel, or sitcom script,
would she roar
with laughter
or fury—
then slam the door?

Maybe
she would kiss me.

All I know, so far,
is she gives me
what she gives me.


SENSITIVE

“Emma!”
I call to our blind kitty,
“It’s a new year—
can you tell?”

“Oh, Mom!”
her posture replies,
“I can’t even tell
if it’s a new day.”

For a split second,
I believe her.


(20)10: 01/01

This date
looks like
binary code:
100101.

So let me
make this
poem brief
(no ode):

“100101”
Okay, I’m done.


MUSE ENTHUSED

The Muse you choose—
No, it’s a mutual thing!
One’s the pong to the other’s ping.

Sometimes you’re carping
on your Muse’s ways.
Sometimes she’s harping
on your own delays.

Sometimes you’re waiting
at your Muse’s door.
Sometimes she’s pacing
your draft-strewn floor.

Be there for her, the Muse you choose.
You don’t want your Muse to snooze!

[ASIDE: Thank you, Muse, for nixing “ding-dong” as the
source of the word-pair in the third line of this poem.]


* * *

Writer at Christmas

* * *

091225

DENTAL FLAWS

Hot and cold,
sweets (like cake)—
these things cause
my tooth to ache.

Though I beg
the pain to slake,
eyes and jaws
and cheeks partake.


091224

VERSE-ATILE

What shall we make a poem of—
a feather or a father?
A roux or kangaroo?

What shall we make a poem of?
Anything will do.


091223

DECEMBER 23

We're two days shy of Christmas,
said Adam, and—I believe—
that means tonight is Christmas
eve eve, Eve.


091222

WRITING
ASSIGNMENT

Others build
or grow
or fix.

Others mother.
I do this.



* * *