Tag Archives: Joy
2nd Story Window
What’s been in our window’s way, I don’t know
How many promising nights did we wait
Sun gracing each season’s skies through the years
That’s what they claimed all those arduous days
But our eyes didn’t see
What our skin didn’t feel
Now comes the end, so the calendar sings
Belt it out here, with me
Not a song that tells you you’ve got to go home
Instead check the window sign
You’re not alone
Magician’s Scarf
Who each woman is
Does she smell like lavender fields
More worthy of obsession with each passing Day
Why the fabric of her dress upon her skin causes men to sing?
The Earth springs forth, as I imagine, musical notes with her every step. Yes.
Such passion must she follow, as to leave us inspired
Her smile draws from an endless-deep joy well
Words from her soul have him come hither, a pulling of magician’s scarf
Alright With Irony
This magic
Oh my! The joy!
Speedily offering Heaven
Overflowing, miring, then jamming
Some other highway
Than mine
Impart
Give me, gift me your assignment now that you are gone, for I was to each day greet your wrinkles, your papers: My touch, the unsugar-coated ink atop your laugh lines, your copy lines…my voice, an unedited reporting of your happiness, your joy.
Long Since Zen
Should any of self-proclaimed gods upon high
Be lying in wait for my feet to trip up
Be prowling as jackals for meat from my bones
Grow old you shall, ‘fore you find my will at play
Dementia and graves will be yours if you dare
Take me on for sport will you?
I cannot care
Wall: A Haiku
Joy feels as a sin
A mad day, an angry day
Despite pure motives
Lincoln Green
Why if we scream
Are we questioned
Our sanity
Our faithfulness
Our allegiance with true patriots
What of war cries
Of the war crimes
Our eyes opened
Our sleeves rolled-up
Our feet planted where lies cannot stand
When Good returns
To the Empire
Who’ll be kneeling
Who’ll be weeping
Who’ll be seeing that they have no clothes
Copper Daughters
My Carolina Days
Joy was my best friend, ever
A passionate Southern accent
Kind, though
Clear blue eyes and a reliable car
“Clutch,”
It’s a compliment
The only one who came through
Who showed up
I hope her boyfriend made things right
There was nothing he was doing
More important than Joy
Joy told me the best joke
An immature, juvenile joke
The kind you still giggle about at 50
Maybe less a joke than advice
“Shave your butt and walk backwards”
It’s a compliment
That you made someone laugh
Especially at them-self
There’s not enough of us doing that
These days
I want to laugh with Joy again