Dear Sir,
You may call:
Whenever you need;
For whatever reason; or,
None.I would answer:
To your kindness;
If you’re specific; and,
If you’ve skin in it.Yours truly,
Tag Archives: Poetry
Saffron or Something
Your skin carries the scent
Of curry
But I’m not certain if it’s yours or mine
There’s no space between us
Anymore
Your lips remind of the burn
Of cinnamon
But I warn you to go lightly
There’s no accountability on my part
Going forward
Red
I’m not bored
I’m just
Batting at baubles
Hanging from the Christmas tree
Stretching and such
Playing coy
Biding my time
Until
That other cool cat comes back
Servant’s Feet
If you go
You’d never leave
That new dust on your feet
Works its wondrous way
Up through your ears
Down into your soul
You’d never again hear
The calls from home
Way back there
When everywhere
Is home
O’ Eagle Eyes: A Haiku
With glitter I cleaned
And I’ve no damned idea
Whether you noticed
Where All’s Fair
My name giggled
Through out-of-breath genuine glee
Commanding that I cease
And then continue again
While watering, sparkling, half-open eyes
Reflect back that we’ve gone homeMy name spoken
Through no-longer-resisting resignation
Smiling as we sigh
Deciding whether we’re done
While fingers feeling eager to begin again
Take it upon themselves to tangle
Volcanic Rock
This piece of all me
I lift up and revere
Dug from the deep
Covered in mourning
I am most proud of
I hold it high here now
Shining before you
It is the me that is happy
For the happy in you
Concerto: A Haiku
Must the strings soften
And tempo become more sure
That Hearts may transcend
Only Ears
Two days ago
With talk of the glitter and gold that’s on sale
I wanted
Just this once wanted
To speak about Santa
To plead his case, there in my tiny kitchen space
He’s real, you know
The jolly, the old, the sharing, the care
It being just November, such talk would widen eyes with the wrong wonder
Quite quickly, I ushered the imagined magic back into the attic
And sadly shuttered that door
He’s busy, they’re busy, lists of to who, to do, to should and to want
None of it’s useful to me
of steel
There
Bury me there
I’ll make a grand wish
I’ll take my last breathe
Before
I’ll take off the cape
I’ll have no regrets
Then
I’ll boldly look
I’ll demurely touch
Heaven
There
