Sunday, October 29, 2017

THE STORY OF A FISHERMAN AND THE SILENCE AFTERWARD/The Sunday Whirl -- Sunday's Whirligig -- Poets United Poets Pantry


summers at the bay              home on the third coast       on the water a lifetime        

grew up to be                        the man you were                 a fisherman

one with the fish                   met them for breakfast         in their favorite spot

and later for tea                     you walked among them      scratched their chin

never had to try                     it all came naturally              knew how it worked            

the catch was yours              in the silence afterward      walked the shore

with the carpenter                hand in hand/a ritual          the sky sunny and blue

in the sand                             among the pebbles and shells         was a sigh

made of memories                and wishes                             of lovely days gone bye                   

that was the whole of it        nothing more to tell…

Note:  The first two stanzas are made up of five lines.  The last is one and one half.
I wanted the ending to come at an unexpected place, and that is the way of endings in life, sometime they come too soon, and come unexpectedly.  Perhaps like children, we protest, we say, “But I am still playing, I am not through!”  Still, the time has come, the game is over.



Tuesday, October 24, 2017


A Mask for Dia De Los Muertos

cautiously i approach the mirror           what i see does not look like me           i touch my fingers

to my face                                it doesn’t feel like me                           who is it…

or is it a mask                           who wears this mask                            and why

is it to hide my appearance       for a costume ball                                 all in fun

or is it to protect my identity     to hide a deed misdone                        eyes shaded

hard to see                               the skin that or a gator                          alive in the swamp

the color bright green               like tic toc croc            the gator who swallowed the clock

on the shores of neverland       in the adventures of peter pan              in the dead of night

i scream in horror                    of what i have become             or is it dia de los muertos

the day of the dead                   not scary at all                          but a day to honor the dead

i place your picture on the alter            fruit and candies          candles and all                        

you are what i will become       i remember you                        will you remember me

October 24, 2017                               





i tell myself                             
it’s no big deal             
my mind empty
nothing to say about creak…
but there are many things that creak
doors creak, ghosts creak
things in the night creak
and many things rhyme with creak      
sneak, freak, sleep, streak, keep, leap


Taking time off.....

I am taking some time off from posting on my blog.  I am studying, practicing, have so much to learn....