Friday, May 23, 2008
ODE TO LIMBO
This is an edited re-post from 11/07. I got one comment, then. Seems a lone reader got lost in the piece., and we are still trying to find her. So, this time, I thought a preface after the fact might be in order. Have you ever re-arrived home in Blue October, the rain pouring down, two traffic jams,...
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Monday, May 19, 2008
POLKA-DOT ANNIE GOES TO THE MOON
Polka-dot Annie goes to the Moon singing with her earphones on, and chewing gum. But she misses her connection, and goes into another orbit, landing on an alternative Moon. She gets out of her space capsule wearing her polka dot cotton dress holding her worn suitcase and wearing her new hat with the...
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Saturday, May 17, 2008
TODAY'S INTERLUDE
Since the self-apparent seems to be in hiding, I decided to go directly to my essence--not that it has anything to say (and I’m not even sure I have one), but I thought it was a good idea to begin someplace, even if we never talked before. So, I begin my journey (about 2 minutes) and arrive at the...
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Friday, May 16, 2008
PRECIPICE
In the shadows of my life This flickering dawn That all I am is how I was born I retreat, of course, to my possible world To know my name, and that was all The house was big but the spaces small Just so I could count them all As I counted the spaces, another idea To question myself of why I was here...
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Wednesday, May 14, 2008
FOR TODAY ONLY
I’m re-documenting a faith, today with little stars and tiny green arrows crossed within a hue of blue Perhaps nothing will be noticed if the tree does not creak, or the hand does not tremble Perhaps nothing will be noticed, at all if something does not happen Yes, I’m re-affirming my faith, today...
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Tuesday, May 13, 2008
UNDER THE MILKWEED
The root that grows the pod to burst Just to find another piece of earth A thousand parachutes seeking a dwelling I would sneeze if I could spell “schnozzoli”
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Sunday, May 11, 2008
POEM WITHOUT A CANVASS
So, here I am in a mid-afternoon counting my marbles the door open, the Sun silent listening to the distant sounds of Summer In this still moment, I think about the mood a painter might play with a blue door open to an oblique plane of sunlight Yes, I know this painting as well as this faint breeze...
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Saturday, May 10, 2008
QUASIMODO TAUNTS SUN...AGAIN!
Quasimodo points his paintbrush in the Sun’s eye. So, the Sun begins to cry, then gets very angry, and shuts the sky down, and reaches for his rifle. The shots crackle through the firmament as he (the Sun) shoots frozen pellets at the perp, who is hot-footing it back into his tower seeking his...
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Friday, May 9, 2008
CARA CLARA
What’s in a face might be none of my business Sparrows don’t cling to dawn Does the red dog bark only at noon? My feet are not my thought But they take me where I’m going Simpler to think what one is Or declare the same name twice Without the mirror
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Monday, May 5, 2008
I READ A POEM TODAY
I read a poem today That carried me to the bluntness Of my truths Some unexamined And others that got away I am lackluster in my turpentine I sing songs in my veil Waiting to be touched By an unknown saint Who knows another song
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