Thursday, August 16, 2018

A Poem Without Meaning/imaginary gardens with real toads

A Poem Without Meaning

A poem as confusing as can be
Words put together
Without meaning
I read your words carefully

Upon completion I wonder
What in the world are you saying
A poem without meaning
Back to the drawing board

So, they say
Gather words
Burn the house down
Tell me your heart

August 16, 2018


Wednesday, August 15, 2018

School Daze/dVerse

School Daze

My school was old
Red brick buildings
The teachers were the same
Tall ceilings
The windows went 
All the way to the top

On warm days 
The teacher would open
Those very tall windows
The breeze would come in
And cool down the stuffy room

Which smelled of disinfectant
And eraser dust and paste
Lockers were in the back of the room
Where we would remove our coats
And place our lunch

The halls were dark
Light would stream in 
From the end of the hall
The floors polished

The play yard barren
There was some play equipment
And a tennis court
We played group games
At recess
I remember a circle
A red scarf and running

I was a good student
But someone was talking
All the time
Would interrupt my thoughts
At last, I found out it was me

August 15, 2018

Tuesday, August 14, 2018

Hand Holding Day/imaginary gardens with real toads

Hand Holding Day

The greatest fear
For humans is death
Though we were born for it
It will be the final step 
In your journey
Makes a strong man cry

How are we to cope 
With that knowledge
All that we love
What is tender for us

I reach for your hand
You reach for mine
You hold me tight
A strong young man
You promise 
Never to let go

The man resting
On the side of the road
Asks, “But why
Should we continue”
I offer my hand
Symbol of connection

Symbol of safety
Symbol of care
My fingers are aware
Of your rough skin
You have toiled 
At hard labor
All of your life

Do not fear
All is as it should be
Like Spring blossoms
End of Summer
Their time spent

August 13, 2018


My favorite box....dVerse


My favorite box
Is made of wood
Several different kinds of wood
In the shape of a heart

It resides in a small skin wrapper
When open it reveals nothing
It is empty
Yet so beautiful

The beauty of it
Fills my lonely heart

August 14, 2018

Monday, August 13, 2018

Hand Holding Day/dVerse

Hand Holding Day

The greatest fear
For humans is death
Though we were born for it
It will be the final step 
In your journey
Makes a strong man cry

How are we to cope 
With that knowledge
All that we love
What is tender for us

I reach for your hand
You reach for mine
You hold me tight
A strong young man
You promise 
Never to let go

The man resting
On the side of the road
Asks, “But why
Should we continue”
I offer my hand
Symbol of connection

Symbol of safety
Symbol of care
My fingers are aware
Of your rough skin
You have toiled 
At hard labor
All of your life

Do not fear
All is as it should be
Like Spring blossoms
End of summer
Their time spent

August 13, 2018

Sunday, August 12, 2018

Home of the Blue Lizard, Desert Fox and A Host of Other Desert Dwellers/the suday whirl -- poets united poets pantry

Home of the Blue Lizard, Desert Fox and A Host of Other Desert Dwellers

The desert is quiet
Thin blue lizards 
Sit on rocks
Blend into their world

When it rains
Longing does not yield
Its grip on the heart
All is quiet except

For the rhythmic rain drops
Falling on the roof
Like the ticking of the clock
Later… when the sky is brilliant

Weather dry 
Tail dusty
You will wonder about 
The dark mood that colored
Your world  

The Rio Grand
Still sleeping in its bed
A tune lilting on the wind
Ripples the surface
Speckled trout
Swim below

August 12th, 2018



Wordle 364

Thursday, August 9, 2018

CALLING UP GRIEF/imaginary gardens with real toads

CALLING UP GRIEF

In dead of winter
“under the night sky she mounted a mare and rode”
No one knew where she rode
On those dark and dreary nights

She always pointed to the paint
Brown and white, In the field
She always said it was hers
The one she rode under the night sky

A pretty little girl
Sheltered and protected from
All things that hurt
And yet, over time

Hurt would find her
Like a curse
Dictated by 
The local witch

Her urge to ride
Could come at any time
Was not limited
To the dead of winter
She said, she was calling up grief

August 9, 2018