All this abundance
All this abundance
All this
Despicable
Blessed
Abundance
Tag Archives: Poetry
No One Told Her No
I saw her there, waiting for ice cream
On a hot July afternoon
Two tiger lillies tucked behind her ear
Live and larger than life
I expected honey bees might encircle her
No one told her no
No you cannot wear flowers so large
Not behind that ear, at least
So orange
So alive
She’d not have heard anyway
She seemed otherwise timid and small
Waiting for butter pecan
An intended respite from the heat
No wonder that not long thereafter
The cumulus clouds
Which mimicked her blooms
Exploded
Bursting forth their relief
Her relief
Our relief
Chocolate
We are not somebody’s
Although
We are
Each
Somebody’s chance
Their risk
And if they’re well-behaved
Somebody’s sure thing
Their reward
The Laughing Dance
Screens
Shades
And curtains
Never served me for certain
So I’ve torn them all down with glee
With one sole, honest purpose
To risk
Birds
Bugs
And butterflies
Too, a stray cat
Who’ll mingle with me
Independence
Prey tell, the cause of our pain?
The fear of not living?
Or living again?
Query, the point of our want?
Desire for the more?
Disdain for the got?
A Single Piece of Silver
With a curious morose
They look at you
As if seeing a long-faded flower
They take pains to not stare
Lest you see pity in their eyes
With a melancholy kindness
They are polite
As if you are fragile
They gently do not linger
Lest their affection break your brittle bones
Cat Call
I dreamed last night a calico cat
Scampered up to me
And my big, drooling, happy dog
Of a life!
Was it you?
If so, I badly want to say your name,
But won’t,
So, cat…
Why your lame leg
Why’d you pay no mind
To the hindered, big, back foot of you
What do you wish I’d leave behind
And pay no mind to, too?
It’s Up To You
I’ll write my own song, it seems
There will be no dance, I know
But sans checkered flag, I’ll have lived
Blue-Green Bards
I’ll know you because
We drink from the same common-ground cup
Though we take our fair-trade tea differently
I’ll invite you, you’ll invite me
To some talking-with somewhere
At the table there’ll be all the stories
All the damn fine stories
The world ought to have wondered about
And with what wonder, they’ll raise their cups and clink and think
Grateful now, for our tales
Thank-filled, for the truth now
Not wanting the ado anymore
His Holy Truth
Things are not what we thought
And in the morning, we wake and learn
Nothing is as we were told
Either
This was all spin
Swinging, as a tired disco ball
Except
There is that standing truth
Upright and all
Vertically oriented
Waving at us in this bad wind:
Let go
Let go
At the same time, love it all
