a subject met a verb
pretended with a slur
put emphasis on i
let meaning be denied
ecstatic yet unsure
A hint for puzzled readers: Not all koans are questions. And not all murder mysteries involve death.
apple bride
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Tag Archives: poetry
strap strapping strapped
the hook at the end of the cable of the crane
rises. the strap tied to the hook stretches
and creaks. the cargo enwrapped in strapping
stirs and scrapes along the gravelly ground, then,
swinging into the air, is briefly silent as it
dangles aloft and slowly
spins.
..
a few seconds later and a dozen feet in the air
a flaw in the strap gives and stretches and snaps
and the cargo falls and crashes, wood-
box corner first, bursting the box, and the metal
inside clashes and screams,
ruining the delicate mechanisms,
destroying the precise arrays they described.
..
the crew chief swears,
the crane operator stares,
and the project manager slips into his office
to weep.
rainfoal
a mare drops her foal in a light rain and the
foal gains a stance like a doomed tripod and blinks
away raindrops and takes hesitant steps and takes in
the rained-on field and her blood and bone say
this’ll do
she returns to her mother and her mother gives suck
..
is there love between them?
look at them
and learn of a love beyond your ken
ever be it thus (non-acrostic)
to donna sue atkins
ever and forever are our sisters
and never is negated with a deed
with some grit in our endeavor
we will fulcrumize our lever
and our world will shift will perk up and take heed
..
we do better with our betterment and vistas
of enlightenment delight us right before us
lovingkindness is a plus
yes and ever be it thus
as our voices harmonize in blended chorus
table archeology
the convenient folding table that i unfolded
and put stuff on just for a moment so I could tidy up
became loaded with more and more stuff
as the moment stretched from minutes to months
..
it is like an archeological dig
of the one-person Sculptor Wannabe culture
prevalent in the mid 2020s
..
i am a clumsy, unorganized archeologist
i just don’t dig it
but the love of my life is coming to town
so dig i must
to clear the table
to fold the table
to vow
never to dig myself such an above-ground hole
ever, ever, EVER again
the seen scene
someone in hong kong sees me
according to my wordpress analytics
and I wonder what that person sees
in my digital scribblings
and who that person is
and if the benefit of returning to “Home page/Archives”
day after day
includes an acquisition of a better command of english
or a better grasp of american insanity
or both or neither.
it may be that the person is an expatriate
and knows plenty about english and insanity.
it may be my quirky illustrations and murky calligraphy are intriguing.
..
the author of childhood’s end, arthur c. clarke,
once speculated about the future in imaginative ways
and then delivered the boggling punchline
“The truth, as always, will be far stranger.”
..
if that being in hong kong is a person,
i wish that person well
and offer their seeing of my posts as proof
that observation alters reality.
..
Buckminster fuller greeted people not with hello
but i see you.
i am glad we see one another.
Woman of my Dreams: Acrostic Love Poem
Woman of My Dreams
The Fate that Oversees things deals a card
Which wafts upon the breeze to you afar
Of suddenness of froth of filigree
Mad hopes compel a voyage out to sea
And bring you merriment with love’s sly charm
Now Aye & Thou–Yes!! HOPE! & that Disarms
Note: This week I asked the woman pictured, Donna Sue Atkins, if she would marry me. She said Yes.
Also: Donna Sue and I are old-school Hippies at heart. The classic Peace sign, faintly depicted at upper left, is said to be a meld of the semaphore letters D and N, to symbolize Disarmament Now. We believe that worldwide Disarmament would be a giant leap toward a sustainable civilization. So please, dear readers, think of the last word in the poem, Disarms, as having a double meaning.
stumbling into the sky
alarm! alarm! and out of a bent sleep the traveler jolts
shuffles to the bathroom while the blear clears
takes the set aside pills flosses brushes shaves
peels t-shirt over his head and off into the hamper
pulls baggy underwear to knees and draws knees together for the underwear to fall to the floor
grabs underwear with toes and drops them into the hamper
steps past the bathroom mirror with an “ugh!” and carefully steps over the bathtub edge and pulls the shower curtain closed and positions his head to shield his body from the initially-cold spray and pulls the faucet lever counterclockwise and pulls the switch-to-shower knob up and cold spray hits his head with a bit of over spray on his belly and he gasp-inhales a little
but the water quickly pleasantly warms and he squeezes shampoo onto his hand and smears it onto his head
then ivory-soaps his body with special attention to armpits genitals and feet (careful! use the corner for support! de-soap left foot then press sole-water firmly away before switching feet!!) and rinses and sways and rinses and lifts and rinses
turns shower off pushes knob down (it sticks) pulls curtain aside and carefully reaches for bath towel and flips towel like a jumprope and unmoistens back and sides and then carefully dries one leg foot perched on bathtub edge and then the other
then (carefully!! delicately!!) lowers a foot onto the bath mat with one hand on toilet-tank lid and the other on the wall
breathes a relief-sigh and steps out of the tub and combs hair dresses grabs backpack locks up goes to lobby calls a lyft cab arrives at airport obtains boarding passes at self-service kiosk walks to security checkpoint hands identification and passes to bluesuited agent places belt and pocket contents in gray bin steps into examination chamber forming the “a” of “ymca” is waved forward repockets rebelts finds the gate..
and here we are!
The Other Reefer Madness
In the style of Ogden Nash, beloved poet of whimsy
Investigation of a bachelor’s refrigerator is akin to a visit to a Museum of Natural History,
Usually involving mustiness and baffling miscellany and gritty realism and a dollop of mystery,
But nobody will be there to adhere a visitor’s badge on us,
Nor will a docent explain that after some months of benign neglect, the contents of a bag of carrots become mucilaginous,
And since the mission is to clean and to come out as unscathed as possible it behooves us the custodian to arm ourself with scrubbies and a dish-soaped rag and an otherwise-never-used department store credit card for that which is excessively sticky,
And possibly an exorcist for that which is downright icky,
and which finds its way to the bottommost nook, cranny and cavity
Via the elegant mechanism of gravity.
A sizable, sturdy garbage bag will serve, Ladies and Mates,
To contain the many items that have passed by as much as a year their “Best Served By” dates.
The hours invested in this enterprise cannot exactly be called fun,
But darn if there isn’t a slight elation when it is finally done,
And we will be made even more glad
When we crack open the untouched bottle of vodka we forgot we had.
Loosely based on a true event
chk
chicken chakra choker check
c h k is rife as heck
and among the heys and watch-mes
you might even find some tchotchkes.
chalk it up to odd occurrence
twixt agreement and demurrance
even when you kick the bucket
“chk!” may throatnoise when you chuck it.
that is all quite well and morbid
thirty wanted twenty-four bid
let us close with holstered trowels
“sm lst wrds my hv n vwls.”
Afterword: smh! 🙂 But the real goal was to use “tchotchkes” (first time ever in one of my poems) such that it contained an “Easter egg.”
One with Clay, Image and Text 