all lean muscle and taut nerves
something there in the trembling
in the hand
in the clenching
of the stomach
of the small fibrous tangle
muladhara
open and expand and explode
lower your lids like sunset
Poem 20151126
everything can use a little editing
a gentle stroke of the pen
to make
what does come out
what should come out
–wait, i didn’t mean that–
would never be uttered again
because everything would be composed
pored over
marked up
submitted as galleys
and approved
before the words pass
carrying less weight
perhaps for the extended process
conversations would stretch
for days
and saying i love you
would take from the first glimpse
of morning sunlight
to when the full moon sinks below
the horizon
Poem 20151125b
give thanks before you are asked
before the request passes through the lips
before the thanks seems less like
gratitude than like a duty
give thanks for her smile and soft skin
and for the tenderness of her hands
for the curve of her neck
and the way the light catches her eyes
give thanks for hearing laughter once again
and for the corners of her mouth upturned
and for the scent of her when you embrace
and for how she lingers in your mind
Poem 20151125
the view at lunch
clouds sailing over freeway
cars streaming under
Poem 20151124
there are gray clouds
of a stormy nature
and they loom
above the horizon
proudly displaying a gap
between heaven and earth
all about separation
things not coming together
division is the natural
order…
the firmament above
from the firmament below
except…
when the rain falls
Poem 20151123
the cell vibrates
the wall pinching
from an enzymatic signal
strands of identical
feelings and caresses
split down the middle
fingers barely touching
as they are pulled apart
by clockwork
and the division
is the first time we ask
is this a good thing
Poem 20151122
peace
and quiet
are a wonderful thing
but are they to be trusted
or treasured
when there is still laughter
to be heard
Post 20151122
So weird.
I was just doing some random searching through my site and happened to look at the archive.
I have had this blog for ten years, but did nothing significant with it until last year.
In fact, the first poem I wrote for this blog is dated 20141122, one year ago today.
That’s an odd sense of nostalgia for me. Here’s how things break down, post wise.
Most Used Categories
Almost four hundred poem, and I haven’t posted yet today. I’m pretty sure most of them aren’t very good. But every now and then, one sneaks in.
Thanks to everyone who comes by to read these, and thanks to everyone who inspires me to be a better writer, poet, and human being.
Poem 20151121b
the sky
flat and gray blue
like a faded child’s blanket
and the mountains
like paper cutouts
theater scenery
so clear
so near
you could trace them
with a pencil on vellum
Poem 20151121
I’m going to say thank you to Doug at his terrific blog Elusive Trope for nominating me for the Three Days, Three Quotes Challenge.
How the challenge works: I nominate three others to also embrace this challenge and, on three consecutive days, to provide a quote along with your take on it. As far as I can see, that take can be a post (like this one will be), or a poem, or a photo. Hey, how about a song, or spoken word?
It’s Day Three. I’m not adding new nomination, but here are the nominees from Day One. Please check out their blogs:
Optional Poetry
Poet Rummager
Linton’s Legacy
—–
Our greatest glory is not in never failing, but in rising up every time we fail.
–Ralph Waldo Emerson
we rise up
though our legs buckle
and we fall again
dig our hands into the earth
spit the dust from dry mouths
we dare the hammer
to strike once more
we rise up
