Sunday, December 4, 2016

December 4 2016 Sunday's Whirligig -- Poets United Poets Pantry/To Die

To Die

to die      it's just a matter of time             be it then or now

be it autumn        when the leaves fall from the trees      bare limbs remain

your favorite time of year     ...or some other exceptional time      your leaving

will be a loss        i will suffer                   and there will be longing

i have walked this path before        not to say              i know it all

i do not                  only my own experience                it is hard

there is no outline       no instructions                           no map

you will be languid        there will be hints                   but no escape

no way back                   the road only goes forward        there will be no more

it is the last thing we do       no one knows what comes after          only silence


December 4, 2016                 

Sunday, November 27, 2016

November 27, 2016 The Sunday Whirl #275 -- Sunday's Whirligig #85 -- Poet's United Poet's Pantry / Patterns of Change

Patterns of Change

as we live      we find we do things over and over     until they become patterns

patterns define us       give keys to who we are          patterns of speech

patterns of movement patterns of expression            you say you want change

change isn't easy          hard to drop old ways            over time we have become

who we are                    point to our chest                    this is who i am

like the sculptor            i have worked hard                 to become me

in all my weirdness       who is to say                 we are not like the house of cards

if one is pulled               the whole thing might fall       who can say which one



not to sound righteous     but accept me as i am           less than perfect                    

no easy way to remove          the offensive parts           cannot be cut away with scissors

swinging from your chatelaine       in church we heard       remove the plank

from your own eye      before you attempt to remove the splinter from mine     all is quiet

someone coughs in the back     the sound echoes           the liturgy continues              

i am not a sudden appearance     but rather i am a work in progress     i am not an apparition

i have been here for a long time        creating patterns     i hold the ends of the yarn

thread the shuttle        weave a life                                   in my own image



where is it written       we can ask another to change         we have been ourselves       

since we were kids       we have heard the call                      we have answered

now we are old              change isn't easy                               at any age

the day will come          we will lie flat                                     we will be food for the crows

we will begin to smell      you will recognize the change         the last change we will make

loved ones dabbing                tears from their eyes                  it will be a furtive change

the patterns we created          will be set                                    will be remembered

November 27, 2016

                                                                                                           

                                   

                                   

  

November 27, 2016 The Sunday Whirl #275 -- Sunday's Whirligig #85 -- Poet's United Poet's Pantry / Patterns of Change

Patterns of Change

as we live          we find we do things over and over               until they become patterns

patterns define us       give keys to who we are                        patterns of speech

patterns of movement patterns of expression                          you say you want change

change isn't easy                   hard to drop old ways                  over time we have become

who we are                             point to our chest                         this is who i am

like the sculptor                      i have worked hard                     to become me

in all my weirdness                who is to say                         we are not like the house of cards

if one is pulled                        the whole thing might fall            who can say which one



not to sound righteous            but accept me as i am                        less than perfect                    

no easy way to remove          the offensive parts                  cannot be cut away with scissors

swinging from your chatelaine           in church we heard                 remove the plank

from your own eye      before you attempt to remove the splinter from mine     all is quiet

someone coughs in the back             the sound echoes                   the liturgy continues              

i am not a sudden appearance           but rather i am a work in progress     i am not an apparition

i have been here for a long time        creating patterns                    i hold the ends of the yarn

thread the shuttle                    weave a life                                        in my own image



where is it written                   we can ask another to change         we have been ourselves       

since we were kids                we have heard the call                       we have answered

now we are old                       change isn't easy                               at any age

the day will come                   we will lie flat                                      we will be food for the crows

we will begin to smell             you will recognize the change           the last change we will make

loved ones dabbing                tears from their eyes                          it will be a furtive change

the patterns we created          will be set                                           will be remembered

November 27, 2016

                                                                                                           

                                   

                                   

  

Saturday, November 26, 2016

November 26, 2016 Writers Digest November Chapbook Challenge 2016/ You Came as a Visitor

You Came as a Visitor

you came as a visitor             as we all are                     to my world

a beautiful boy                      a joy to hold                      straight and tall

a child to all                          didn't stay long                  i should have known

you would always be a visitor      found nowhere to call home          you were my son

the only one                         the child i loved                  an alien to be sure

came from another world       perhaps another planet           had your own thoughts

you came to me                   heard my call                       and there you were

for a little while                   blue eyes like the clear blue sky            blond hair

like the setting sun               a joy to see                              you made your own way

far from me                         and all who loved you                  found your own place

remained a visitor               all of your life                         a visitor who heard my call

November 26, 2016




Friday, November 25, 2016

November 25, 2016 Writer's Digest Nobember Chapbook Challenge 2016 -- Will a Little Tape Help

Will a Little Tape Help

to mend                          to put back together                                 to cover a wound

one side sticky               one side plain                             how to mend a relationship

what about a little tape   will it work                                             will it hold

a little torn paper             a broken toy                                           words spoken

to hurt                              will a little tape help                              cover the offense

a glass dropped                smashed to a million pieces              can they be recovered

taped back into shape      and what about a heart that is broken          will a little tape help

November 25, 3016



Wednesday, November 23, 2016

November 23, 2016 Writer's Digest November PAD Challenge 2016 / When You Come Again -- Poets United Midweel Motif/ Stretching the Truth

When You Come Again

when you come again      or... will you come again          how long has it been

how many months           how many days                         hours/minutes/seconds

the emptiness stretches    expands like a rubber band       or...the land before me

which stretches to the horizon     and then i can see no more   except for the clear blue sky

still... i search the horizon      for the dust that rises          from your pony

i wait for your return     nothing happens in between        only the ticking of the clock



in years past            so many thanksgivings                       prepare the turkey

put it on early      tv on to watch the thanksgiving parade         so many people

crowd along the streets         balloons fly above                 sometimes cold

sometimes not           commentators chatter constantly       a relief when it is turned off

family and friends gather       glasses tinkle                         toasts are made

wishes exchanged          memories of other years                other thanksgivings



the old songs are played       on the phonograph                church bells ring in the valley

drums from the pueblo         fill the air                               cultures mix

cheery hellos               waved across the way                     the news offers little promises

i step through the looking glass      where all is new          clear/resolved

i reach under my shirt      place my hand on my breast       feel my heart still beating

it does not ease the longing         i wait for you                   will you come again

November 23, 2016

_____________________________________________________________________

Stretching the Truth

let's stretch the truth a little       it must have been a million years      since i saw you last

i remember a spring day            way back in ancient times                 in your bed

a cozy cocoon                             you yourself was not a larva             but seemed to be

just ready to become a butterfly           and you did                             flew away

out the window                         into the sunlight                             free from what held you

free from pain                           i alone                                                 watched you go

knew your destination               and now                                              you wait for me

still the river of time rushes       life doesn't stand                               still i try to keep up

try not to get stuck in the past    my thoughts face forward                yet sometimes

march backward                         with spyglass                                    they look for you


November 23, 2016          











Tuesday, November 22, 2016

November 22, 2016 Writer's Digest November PAD Challenge 2016

All That You Were Meant to Be

you share with me your very best      ask me to tear it up        return the tiny pieces

all in the interest of growth         growth is the challenge       and the desire

sometimes it is hard          how to skip from stone to stone     reach a new level

how to see what was there all along     what wasn't seen before      what held us back

often there is resistance      a reluctance to throw away            what was hard won

who says it is so                 who doesn't                                   still it is hard to find one

who will tell you the truth   that elusive thing                          that subjective thing

it is up to you                     to take what you need                       and discard the rest

find your own truth            i am here to help                              look through the glass

describe what i see         knowing there could be pain                 i will try to take care

but make no promises       there can be no detours                   because of hurt feelings

scattered about like potholes      a desire for comfort                        a tender heart

i want for you the very best       all that you can be             all that you were meant to be

November 22, 2016