Saturday, October 31, 2015

October 31, 2015 The Sunday Whirl/ The Body -- Sunday's Whirligig/Missing You -- Poetry United Poets Pantry

The Body

the body       the keeper of all that we know             thoughts

memories     words stacked in little boxes          scratched on stones

hardened by fire      envelopes tied                     with blue ribbons

your name is there      feelings flow through veins       injuries weep

bleeding onto the pavement       a dusty chamber              blue

the heart beats            a search is made              a vessel waiting

October 31, 2015


Missing You

house of glass                             wrinkled                               withered

transparent contents                     exposed                               secrets revealed

the sun shining                       the sound of a gong                 shadows dappled

wounds salted                    calmness in minutes after              jar falls from the shelf

rice scatters across the floor     plums spinning into corners      the hours that follow difficult

all is quiet                             the waiting begins                         words muttered

November 1, 2015

Sunday, October 25, 2015

October 24, 2015The Sunday Whirl/Last Season's Demons -- Sunday's Whirligig/Sleep--Poets United

Last Season's Demons

the hour early            heavy clouds                  hang in the sky

the land                     as far as I can see          quiet

perhaps all                are still sleeping              the TV on

canned laughter        fills the air                        escape to quiet

the noise drains        from my ears              a tree shaded lane

my favorite          sometimes hard to find     i return in memory

walk in my element   in the quiet shade       demons drop away

kick golden leaves    the trees bare              winter on the way

my theory is         it is the transformation      the white of winter

nothing is as it was    in a very short time     a wonderland 

I wonder...            are last seasons demons   still hidden there 

October 24, 2015



sleep so valuable a commodity        we don't know               until it evades us

each night                                    i drag myself to bed           my eyes fly open

stare into the darkness of my room                                  i enter my own oubliette

bone tired                                   it has become a mania      the morning finds me

still wearing the same face         eyes wide open                    i touch myself

wondering if i am dreaming        it is morning                    and maybe i am asleep

there is a little rattle in the corner of the room                  perhaps a mouse is waking

after a long night's sleep             i would like to smite    the demon that steals my sleep

i search for an orange melon     to carve into a jack-o-lantern     i'll put a candle in it

to scare away the one                 who steals my sleep             i've tried every trick

perhaps a bit of vanilla cake       or chocolate                    would keep him at bay

October 25, 2015

Thursday, October 22, 2015

October 22, 2015 Gravity


you say gravity           i think of the east river               stylish cement shoes

or times square            the 13th of september                words spoken

someone tipped over   bonds severed                           darkness fell

shortly after lunch       food remained on the table       angry words

uttered                         spoken                                       shouted

shock                           stumbled into the street             how could it happen

so suddenly                 unexpected                                 out of the blue

like a sink hole            happening underground             for years

out of sight                  now silence the echo                  gravity the memory

October 22, 2015

Sunday, October 18, 2015

October 18, 2015 The Sunday Whirl/ The World Transformed

The World Transformed

the path ahead is unknown      the relationship transformed      when the weapons appeared

i try to examine what happened     in an instant                       all that was before is no more

like an explosion                     debris everywhere                        nothing recognizable

the meal complete                   the food consumed                       the conversation began

someone took offense             began spitting angry words              someone was rude

it is true                                   you have been rude before                  20 years before

do not disturb the dead            asked you to leave                         wished you the best

hard to breathe                        it is as if...                               your very life depended on it

know no boundaries                you are well practiced                         in the art of war

you cut off your nose              to spite your face                                    still a child

you try to run before you can walk      your energy scary               your view shallow

you are not the one                 will not be picked                                 we part ways

October 18, 2015

Thursday, October 15, 2015

October 14, 2015 Poets United -- Midweek Motif/ Fire


emotional fire                           fire in the belly                   fire of love

originates in the same place     heartburn                           fire of passion

still... one gets angry                says ugly things                  strikes to hurt

later doesn't remember             it can all be frustrating        handling fire

wildfire                                     burning forests                     burning bridges

what is it all about                    i am right                              i beat my chest

throw fire balls to the wind      start fire                                with twigs and words

fire of the heart                         burn your fingers                   don't you know

October 14, 2015

Sunday, October 11, 2015

October 11, 2015 Poets United -- The Sunday Whirl/ Melancholy -- Sunday's Whirligig/Summer athe Bay (House on Blue Heron)


look through the letters       for your post           thought i would hear from you

weeks have passed              does it really matter              probably not

the journey is the trip          after all                    it would take courage

to negotiate the traffic         to risk the chill        the bridge to the past

has burned                          there is no going back           the past cannot be changed

it is as                                  it is my urge to return        that cannot be

it no longer exists               you say but i remember      and of course i remember

it is not anywhere               perhaps the thrum              is all that is left

like yesterday                     which was today                now is the past

a place we cannot return to       can only visit in memory      which isn't the same for all

October 11, 2015


Summer at the Bay (House on Blue Heron)

little cabin                           at the bay                            the smell of salt water

starry nights                        sailboats                              waves slap against the side

dunes are fragile               yet give protection            from high winds and rough waters

shorebirds                      hide among the dunes                  children bicycling

the distance around the island     small ponds                   are natural wonders

where watchful herons hunt      slowly...         cautiously...            take the next step

October 10, 2015

Wednesday, October 7, 2015

Poets United Midweek Motif/You Are My Teacher

You Are My Teacher

yes more often than not                   when i wonder                  who you are

i realize                                             you are my teacher           my love

you have come to teach me             i have come to learn          the sky a new mexico blue

the clouds with silver linings           mountains dark blues        the landscape golden

touched with greens and red            the night time cool            the air fresh and clean

you sing to me                                  you lay it before me          sometimes i am slow to learn

i stumble                                           you break my heart           and stand laughing

it's all a big joke                               don't take it seriously         learn and turn the page

October 7, 2015

Sunday, October 4, 2015

October 4, 2015 Sunday's Whirligig/Polly's Pocket--The Sunday Whirl/ The Broken Nexus and the Nautilus Shell--Poets United Poets Pantry

Polly's Pocket

fragments                               bits and pieces                             thoughts

memory                                  dreams                                        words unspoken

in your eye                             i see the eye of the universe        the eye sees me

light of the world                   a lifetime disappears                    still fragments remain

i check my watch                   look at the clock on the wall        your touch erotic

darkness approaches              count my change                          something missing

a tisket /a tasket                     yellow leaves in the corner          summer is gone...

was there a theft                     misplaced                                     or was it simply lost
October 3, 2015


The Broken Nexus and the Nautilus Shell

i hear your voice                tender                                        sweet

soft                                       carried by the wind                 through the window

suddenly                             there is a change                      threats

insults                                  list of resentments                  press my face against the glass

who is speaking                 are you still the one                 the alternate beat of my heart

has someone new              come to live in you                  i call your name

my words lost in the wind                         spinning free in the cosmos

the nexus between us lost     i flush your unkind words       from my thoughts

unpredictable                     nothing to count on                everything changes

i stand alone                       nothing left                                maybe i never knew you
October 4, 2015


  Mother   mother, a simple word just six letters   “m” is for mine, meadow, meow all the wonders of the world wild meadow orchids including...