Archive for December, 2010

Cage Lines Bludgeoning the Gray of a New Day

Countless billions of branches.

Branches grabbing the water from freezing rains.

Water stretches to drip to the ground but is frozen.

Ice paralyzes the warm, cocoa brown of the wood.

Ice belittles and smashes the brown with her glorious gray.


Wide-eyed, focused down my quaint street,

There is nothing but this chaos in my world,

And all of the lines blot the sky,

More lines than sky, lines now black next to sky,

Branches are mysterious and powerful, bludgeoning the gray cover.


I could wander around my neighborhood street,

And count the branches forever, getting lost, starting over.

Everything is dead and the ice would fall and smother my face,

Splattering over and over, shattering and crunching the spirit.

I wish I were a photographer and I wonder how all of this is possible.

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High Maroon Heat Low

Her maroon heat

Blows through,



Large, glancing,


Making big, beautiful


Spot lit and multiplying,

Opening space and bringing


Around her,

Surrounding her,

And she wrestles away,

She steals and

Flies away with

My spirit,



Taller than sky,

Bigger than whipped cream,

Sweeter than chocolate,

And then

Sudden and




Just like hospitals, huge

Hallways, tunnels,

Blaring frozen, clean,



Wet.  Slick.


My heart is stuffed

Back into my throat.

The throat is frozen.

It is starving for love.


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Tabitha, M’Lady Blue Jay

Sometimes I read, but since that causes me to sleep, I tend to set my book on my lap, and I sit and watch the boards of the porch, the trees behind my house and the ground underneath them.  I like to watch the boards of my porch change color very slowly. Sometimes the boards appear to be made of liquid, but that happens after I have been sitting too long.  I sit in a cheap white plastic chair which is quite uncomfortable, but I can sit for hours.  It was never lonely on my porch when I could read without putting myself to sleep, but now Read the rest of this entry »

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Searching With Repeating Synergies

I listen to my favorite music over and over and over again.  If I stand back to observe my listening patterns, I might determine that I am grotesquely obsessed and perhaps insane.

This observance has occurred repeatedly over my entire life, but yesterday morning I was a particularly harsh critic.  In the car CD player (it’s an old-fashioned one that only holds one disc, which perhaps points to a laziness as explanation for what is to be described) was the Nine Black Alps CD.  I saw these guys with my friend TK.  TK goes to a bazillion rock and pop concerts and once in a while I tag along.  We saw them in a bar for a $10 show with maybe 50 people in the crowd.  They played all of the music from the CD much faster so the entire show was one big adrenaline rush.  They were incredibly talented and mechanically perfect, or tight as we like to say.  Afterwards, we met them and bought a CD for $7.  I’ll never forget how wasted those guys were.  This was after I had quit drinking so I was punch-hyped on Diet Coke, but man oh man, those guys were wasted, and I remember wondering Read the rest of this entry »

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Running From Moving Prisons



Do not take my booze,

My meds, my relief.

I don’t live without.  Without is

Life in prison with deadly awareness.

I don’t want to be grumpy.


Don’t take my joy.

Don’t take my colors.

Don’t flatten my soul.

Don’t make humans ugly.

Don’t make me shake Read the rest of this entry »

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Bring Your Brilliance

Perfection slinking away,

Draped in liquid enthusiasm.

I want her to come back to me.

But she is too fantastic.

Her slink is hot.


I want to jump up and down

On the floor with her,

To and fro, in and out.

She would do me

On the floor



She would take me into

The darkest places.

She would show me fire,

Blow me to heavenly


Her slink is hot.


She would take me,

Make me follow.

I would be a puppy,

Cocking my head each way,

Straining to track her mind,

Listening  to every




I submitted this for One Shot Poetry Wednesday (Week 26).  One Shot is terrific with lots of great people participating – Head over there!

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The Priority of Strutting Freedom

When I try to log the day,

The black cat always presents herself.

She is barely known and has little impact,

But she is first.

The dogs announce her presence.

They are always angry,

Envious, jealous, resentful.

Sometimes, she struts to the door

as if she were about to ring the bell.

She wonders independently aimless,

She gets food dedications, free  from

Warm-hearted neighbors.


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Soft Pillows of Loving Safety

Graceful entrance,

Gentle stirrings,

It is dark and we are under covers.

My legs and hands feel

A beautiful pearl-white softness,

Smooth and ready to glide on air.

Strings mixed beyond recognition,

A power and strength in those legs.

Small, tense, smooth warmth

From her ass. Her feet and legs

Comfort and grab me.

How they grab, I do not know,

But there is safety.


Shuddering waves streak

From her body to mine.

My finger tips and the padding

Of my thumbs glide and explore

Her breasts.  We kiss and press and

Kiss and press.

We tell each other it is right

If this never stops.

At some point, it stops so that we can

Rest in a soft pillow of loving safety.

She scoots the back of her body into

The front of mine, and we sleep

Mashed and tangled gently, smoothly.


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Longing for Hurt

Why do I fondly miss

The one who threw me away?

Why do I long for the one

Who loved receiving my trust

And then betrayed every confidence?

I do not feel insane.

I am troubled and alone,

But I am not insane.

I long for life and engagement.

But I am glad she is gone.

Safe is coming back, my heart steady.

I miss her from a safe distance,

In my sanity cage.

I’m haunted by her radical energy

And she is good enough to know it.


I entered this one for the Thursday Poets Rally Week 36.

Thank you to Jingle for the flattering award!

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You Have No Right

Today I believe

In a vengeful


And the Devil

Has superb



God shouts at me:

You are so broken

And insane.

You have no right

To judge  the


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