Sunday, August 31, 2014

Forty


I rode my bike for miles under the canopy of trees
that gave me shelter from the persistent summer sun
and the brief summer storm. Leaves fell like manna
silently, intermittently, and in premeditated fashion.

Dear God: I never complained nor despaired before
you sent blessings.  Only after the last leaf-loaf will
I wail lamentations through the withered wilderness.


Thursday, August 28, 2014

Honey Nut Cheerios


She was a pastor's daughter and one of my first crushes.

I used to visit her every summer 
at my aunt's Christian camp in upstate NY
back when family and females held the same value.

Her younger brother and I would sleep in bunk beds
by night but she and I fed each other a year's worth of 
Honey Nut Cheerios on the same beds by day:
finger food...food for the burgeoning soul.

I don't remember when I stopped making the annual
trip - perhaps it was when family, like a toy at the 
bottom of a cereal box, became less substantial and
females thereby followed suit.

Nowadays, I prefer to keep things less nutty and
perhaps a little less sweet.  I dump my cheerios into a 
bowl: the milk dilutes and makes an echO as lOnely
as a wOlf hOwling at the desert mOOn.




Saturday, August 23, 2014

Summer's Momentum


Cicadas
singing tree to tree

Scent
of mulch rising with humidity

Children
on squeaky swings

back forth
  back forth
    slowing
       slowing

summer's momentum


Thursday, August 14, 2014

Crossword Puzzle


I saw an elderly couple
working on a crossword puzzle
and for a second I envied and wondered

How nice it must be to
connect words with ease at the end of life
The ones we struggle with day in and day out

The complexities in the white noise

Turn the television and the radio off

Tear down the world wide web of deceit

Shut the fuck up, reconnect and just love.

It's said that we mellow
as we age but this little light of mine
is a steady conflagration engulfing every section

ArtsBusinessEntertainmentPolitics
ScienceSportsTechnologyTravelObituaries

My paper is burning
Corners hissing and turning

Blame it on The Times
and read T
               H
               End in the ferment


Monday, August 4, 2014

Cauldron

At night
I lie in my dark bowl

Comes the blue flame
My rare heart boils inside

Soul screams and climbs
to the rim but doesn't jump

Insatiable incantation 
Pain with prescription