Wednesday, March 18, 2015

dVerse/An Unseen Shape Shifter

An Unseen Shape Shifter

the wind is not to see     but to be felt though      not as a feeling like happy or sad

we can see the damage it can do    knock down all the buildings on a far away island

named vanuatu    that wind was called a cyclone         spinning winds a tornado

and like the wolf     with the hair on his chinny chin chin       who threatened

                         the little pigs he would blow their house down

the tornado can blow your house down... and your town                        yesterday

we discovered the winds                 had moved the portal you built off its' foundation

& one day the winds ripped the roof off the studio                         in march

when the winds come               it melts the precious snow pack off the mountain sides

the snow pack that is needed to fill the rivers and wash the dust away          in summer

when the sun shines continually              & the air is still a gentle breeze is welcome

it finds its' way into an open window                   cools your face & makes it possible

to live a little longer         moves the wind chimes in the garden reminds you it can be

a welcome companion or a dreaded enemy                      an unseen shape shifter

March 18, 2015

Sunday, March 15, 2015

The Sunday Whirl/Don't Be a Monkey/ Poets Pantry

Don't Be a Monkey

leaves rustling        as they are blown down                                    the dry creek bed

looking for rocks         some in the shape of hearts                  some exactly like eggs

tears roll down my cheeks          it would be blasphemy            to say anything i could have done                   

would have changed the outcome            still i have regrets                      am plagued by wishes

the deck was dealt           the future was written as sure               as if it had been written in stone

the leaves dried                     crumbled                                             and fell from my hands

nothing to keep but my memories                                                  which I have tied in a blue cloth

we travel this way only once           if there is a chance to be anything else          don't be a monkey

sleeping the day away in the branches            if the plague is at hand                                  be smart

head for the hills               where the air is sweet                         and your children will be safe

what is done has been done                              and now you drag it along like a puppy on a string

March 15, 2015

Wednesday, March 11, 2015

Poets United Midweek Motif/ An Ordinary Man

An Ordinary Man

he was an ordinary man      the love of his mother       hard to know

keeper of secrets                  complex                 kind                      just a man

for his mother                          the world is not as bright without him

such a beautiful boy              a peter pan of sorts            a hero in his own way

he had a smile that could light the world                 never complained

ripped a hole when he left        an ordinary man            that could not be replaced

March 11, 2015

Sunday, March 8, 2015

March 8, 2015 The Sunday Whirl/Spring is Here at Last/ Poets Pantry #242

Spring is Here at Last

the sun is shining bright      the wind barely a breath      still it stings my face

the string of my arms hang loose                  i am a puppet without tension

i knead my brain       look for new images                no need for excuses

old memories materialize      the trip unfolds         begin new life in the west

it has been a hard winter for many       buried beneath the snow

today we are instructed to reset our clocks                   spring is here at last

March 8, 2015

Saturday, February 28, 2015

The Sunday Whirl/The Silence Afterwards/ deVerse -- Poets United

The Silence Afterwards

my body wrapped in flesh         with empty veins        on the table is food

the wind howls at my window        circles my house         through the night

your ghost comes to me in a dream                 in the form of a little lamb

i reach to stroke your soft coat      it has turned to granite      just as my heart

has turned hard and cold         a stone in snow             i search the names listed

the weight of your loss                 is far greater than i could have imagined

in the final days the words i told myself              were true but empty now

                                                                            the silence afterwards

February 28, 2015


Friday, February 27, 2015

Imaginary Gardens with Real Toads/The Time I Am

The Time I Am

what is time after all        how do we know it       is it the clock on the kitchen wall

the mirror       mirror mirror on the wall       can we see time       feel it

i have heard       we become aware that time has passed       when we see people on TV

and we see they have aged       our children have grown      our pets have died of old age

i look out across the mesa            see the mountains                          the sky

all looks the same           as if under water                             or trapped in resin

there is silence in the room         everyone i know is gone          alone

everything has been in anticipation of this moment      time is killing me...      and you

yet i wear a watch on my arm to measure it's passage              it is something

that cannot be escaped          trapped in time                for as long as i am

February 27, 2015

Wednesday, February 25, 2015

Poets United Midweek Motif/The Mother Tongue

The Mother Tongue

i speak to you          with the words               i learned from my mother

about the things i learned from my mother                           she was my teacher

taught me how to tell the truth                        i won't say she taught me to cook

as i must have been a poor student          still can't cook       but kindness she related to me

at caring she was the best              she cared for me                           like no other

a regular mother kitten          she taught me to love         how to scoop up the whole world

to fill my heart with what i could see           to feel the sun on my skin

to know another as myself                to smell spring             it was the mother tongue

she taught me                  i see her in those I meet                               i listen for her song

she spoke in the mother tongue      because of this             i could lick my son with my love

February 25, 2015