A Dream
I dreamed of you again last night.
Something had happened and this was after--
a play, a graduation--something.
You were standing about with the others
scraping the toe of your shoe against the sidewalk,
laughing softly, smiling.
I ran up and hugged your neck,
your dear Old Spiced white collared neck.
Your arms went round me.
I breathed in your strength;
a cushion of comfort around my heart
that stayed with me
long after my eyes opened.
The Morning After
I said, "You look awful!"
"It was awful," she replied.
"He wouldn't shut up."
I laughed.
"He had some nerve."
She said,
"I know—
Technically, he wasn't even there."
Luck
Catching the bouquet
Never works.
The larger wishbone
is no guarantee.
A rabbit's foot
Is just the part that's missing from the rabbit.
The first star wish
Is always made in secret.
And my apple peel
Did not stop at your initial.
Offcourse Journal Issue #39, Fall 2009
http://offcourse.org
Words
It takes a million words to woo a woman
But only five or six
To break your heart:
We should see other people.
It's not you, it's me.
We can still be friends.
I need to be alone.
And if she's feeling generous:
I have to figure something out.
But you don't because
Goodbye is very clear.
If I Never Move
I'm standing at the kitchen sink
I'm standing at the kitchen sink
I'm standing at the kitchen sink
My hands clench cold steel taps,
And If I never move perhaps
the day will not progress.
Time will stop with me:
The sky will stay profoundly black,
Stars weeping their diamonds
Upon snow that never melts.
Birds will not awaken,
The cat and dog not age.
This pot of coffee will stay hot,
Forever it will be
Tuesday morning
Five thirty AM,
And you will not have left.
Things
Disappear
My dear,
I know yesterday
I said, "I won't throw this away",
but then
hey, I did.
Now, wasn't that stupid?
Because here
you go,
demanding it.
Your brow will knit
as you
attack the recycle bin,
like a
conquest. You must win.
Standing clear
I'll murmur, "I don't know...
It was clinging there below
your
picture of the deep blue...
Now, where could it have got to?"
Your face a sneer,
you'll be
furious
and I'll
sigh because
it was
just a scrap of loose leaf
in an
endless blurr of paper—just one sheaf
blowing
through our tiny sphere.
Like the thoughts of a moment ago,
the plans
and ideas we think we sow
so real
until their moment draws near—
after all,
things disappear.
Offcourse Journal Issue #42, Summer 2010
http://offcourse.org
Arm's Length
Can one love at arm's length,
elbows stiff,
lungs begging to let go bottled breath?
Is admiration love—
From great distance,
countenance absorbed,
chin locked in contemplation,
while velvet rope barrier and
wall of spectators
separate one from the dear object?
A paltry substitute
for messy, wearisome love
that grinds one down day after day
until all that's left is soul—
soft and vulnerable
pure golden,
perfected gift of
God.
The East Aurora Advertiser, Summer 2010
www.eastaurorany.com
What Comes With Age
People whine so much about getting older.
It's true our bones ache,
Our eyes must work much harder now
Just to take in the faded images
We used to blur with gin.
And it's much more difficult
To hide the silver
The wrinkles
The skin that drapes
instead of clinging to our shapes.
Old men still look at women
Just not at us anymore.
But with time passed
There also comes a knowing,
A certain confidence in understanding
That what we don't know
Was meant for someone else
And what we do know
Is enough.
And wonderful surprise--
You are there
Waiting, patiently beckoning,
Beloved.
I Don't Eat Spicy Foods Anymore
I don't eat spicy foods anymore,
nor read the paper
nor watch much TV.
I brush my teeth with warm water,
take off my glasses when I really want to see.
At mass I sometimes can't make out the hymnal
and so sing the wrong words, loudly and off-key.
I walk my dog instead of running,
now and then enjoy
a comfortable cup of tea.
One day soon I'll quit coloring my hair,
I'll garden more and chase the children less.
The books I read will all be poetry.
And I'll look back on my life as a movie,
clapping my hands at the parts I like the best.
From The Porch Swing/Silver Boomer
Books/2010
www.silverboomerbooks.com
My
Crown
Of Thorns
I held the whip in my right hand,
His precious wounds spraying my face.
I tried to use the excuse, 'I didn't know'
like a child who says
'I forgot' to get
out of a scrape.
But I knew.
We always know
and simply choose
to look the other way
or close our eyes because
we cannot bear the sight of blood.
Memento: Falling Star Magazine
http://fallingstarmagazine.com
Air
He gave up
His life
for us.
We casually
acknowledge this,
looking at our
watches,
wondering if the
weather will hold for a round of golf,
taking for granted
a love too deep to contemplate,
so
unfathomable
we blush to
say His name.
And yet, He
is the air
we breathe,
the food we
eat, the warmth
we feel when
clasping
hands. But, like
spoiled children we call on Him when
we are in
trouble and spend the rest of our
time demanding
dessert before
dinner.
Am Here For You
I am here for you.
I knew there was a reason
since I
was a little child, swinging
on
the playground, looking
out
over fields and forests,
deeply
inhaling pines.
I longed for things to stay the same
and never
to grow old.
But even then I realized
my
childhood was fleeting;
each
day marking a tiny change
so
small it was not visible
and
would not be until
years
and years occurred
with
changes, all piled
upon
each other.
I await the purpose
that
will sprout from
this
mountain of change,
for
me,
for
you,
for
everyone,
But mostly for
me
and you.
Joyful!, March,
2010
http://www.joyfulonline.net
