Arthritis has bent our hands
from the supple petals
they used to be
into gnarled root-like clubs.
Our fingers
no longer intertwine.
It doesn’t feel the same.
Of course,
it doesn’t feel the same.
We are not the same.
We are older,
and weaker and stronger.
And still we hold
on to each other.
We can not
we will not
ever let go.
Apr 272010
Apr 262010
Love arrived
from out of the blue
danced a while
and sang
then
Love departed
leaving
only the blue
Apr 212010
I smile when
*she is my first thought of the day
*birds turn worms into music
*the sun sneaks above the horizon
*I see dew on flowers
*I feel her hand in mine
[even when she's not really here]
*a kid says something wise
[or funny... or funny AND wise]
*I read something we really must share
*I beat Word Warp on my iPod
*I feel the sun [or the wind or the rain] on my face
*my puppies are SO glad to see me
*my fluffy puppy pokes me with her nose
*I fall asleep watching Castle again
*I hear one of those songs
*I dance [when no one's watching]
*I sing [when no one's listening]
*I walk barefoot
*I smell lilac
*I taste honeysuckle
*her voice is the last thing I hear at night
Apr 192010
It’s National Poetry Month and here is a new poem that I turned into this little multimedia project.
Apr 122010
It rattles.
When I shake my head
something in there rattles.
I don’t know what it is.
Odd.
You’d think
that with its proximity
to my brain
I must know.
[What if it is my brain?]
Sometimes my pen
turns rattles in my head
into smudges on a page.
Apr 082010
I send my words
to wiggle their way
into your mind
into your body
Feel my hands
my breath
Squirm a little
and I know
I’ve reached you
It’s not so much a poem
as it is a seduction
Apr 072010
In my hammock I lie
Just me, the trees, and the sky
I swing in my sling and I try
To salve the sting of goodbye
To halve the us into I
I feel what I feel and I cry
And deal until tears are dry
Bereaved, I heave a sigh
The leaves all whisper, “Why?”
She leaves just me, and I
Am alone with the trees and the sky
Apr 012010
Reduce, Reuse, Recycle.
This was previously posted on 19 November 2008.
I have been on a mountain.
I have been under an ocean.
I have been on the other side of the planet.
I have been out of my mind.
I have been chatted up.
I have been talked about.
I have been the last to know.
I have been the first to admit it.
I have been alone.
I have been lonely.
I have been on the fringe.
I have been on the outside looking in.
I have been faithful.
I have been a believer.
I have been cheated on.
I have been a fool.
I have been a cabbage-patch uncle.
I have been a best man.
I have been childish.
I have been childlike.
I have been nearly near death.
I have been depressed.
I have been shy.
I have been a wallflower.
I have been smart.
I have been stupid.
I have been better.
I have been worse.
I have been drunk now for over two weeks. [No, wait. That was Jimmy Buffet, not me.]
Mar 092010
“I am a teacher
and a repeat offender,”
I said with conviction.
Tried, convicted, sentenced.
I serve my sentence
[grammatically correct, of course]
within these walls
painted institutional green
and ply my trade
from the inside.
And I count the days
until June.
Feb 172010
There’s a series being published over on Vox Poetica called “Aspects of the Elephant.” It’s a poetic look at various viewpoints on love. You really should be reading it. And not just because one of my poems, Words on a Wire, is scheduled to be up there today. [But, if you want to use that as an excuse to check it out, who am I to complain?] It will be on the Today’s Words page today and then moves to the Poemblog page.
Let's do Something Cheap and Superficial 
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