Best Sanded Poems

Santa Barbara, Summer 2017

Monday
I walked on the bluffs above the sea.
Orange poppies bloom in the dunes.
I discovered
the labyrinth:
smooth stones spell the path.
Peaceful pilgrimage.

Tuesday
Walked on the beach and smelled:
Tar from the oil seeps,
fennel,
coastal sage,
eucalyptus.
And, of course, the sea.

Wednesday
Hiked in the foothills.
The grass is brittle and yellow;...

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Child , stand up
Clothes deemed unfashionable
by followers with no individuality
Kinky locks not straight enough
according to those with no self realization
The stiffness in your tongue bearing testament
to your mother tongue, to which they laugh at, why?

You're Mahogany, sanded and buffed
well crafted and glossed to a high...

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As rust falls from the anchor

Where do sandcastles go
when the tide engulfs the view and 
lonely shorelines crest in tear drops
beneath white capped dream chasers,
foam laced erasers combing sanded wishes,
taking towers in the water's rage
as moats become minor indentations 
on a beach bathed in the...

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You've sanded down the edges of my broken heart.
No longer do they pierce me.
You've stopped me from falling apart.
Like shattered glass I was a cracked reflection
Of past loves that only could do wrong.
You've entered my life just in time to save me from the past.

An...

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Drenched of hell’s insanities 



Sending chills this tortured spine, 
as aches precede the worded fiction
Sorted truth does rest sublime 
beneath the light of benediction
Broken dreams of compass flair, 
directions cast a blinded waning
Trusted roots abridge the square 
of all that’s lost and is remaining

Washed along...

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O breezy Spring leaves,
Show-offs of stupendous beauty.
Your breathtaking heights
and swooning low brights,
Puffy delights
As you bud and sway.
You delightfully chill me
Goosebumps on arms
and brace.
Fingertips are nearly blue,
brazenly so on this Spring-a-ling day.
An open space,
front door unhinged,
ready to be sanded and stained.
I’ll swing a jacket
about my shoulders
and...

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Perry's Disinclination for Mushrooms

A mushroom is not something new
Inside some pasta or a stew. 
But, when it comes to feeding Perry,
A mushroom is extraordinary!

John's Surgery

An eyeball must be a perfect sphere.
If an imperfection should appear,
A handy doctor, not ham-handed,
Will use his head and have it...

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The Galilean sun smiled down
upon the dusty little town
and lingered o'er one humble spot,
a peasant's home and modest shop.
Long shafts of light fell 'cross the door
to lay bright carpets on the floor
where children played in perfect peace
about the shop. Their joy increased
each time they caught...

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I roam through cactus  and moonlight,
never knowing how old marrow can be fleshed
from pores sewn in blank  lines of endings  ~
and here I am among rows of a year’s diary;
these  hands sanded by memorials
of  famine and feast ; sometimes wrinkled
by...

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Sun-soaked sanded seeds
Sit by silver seas.
Serenely sewn seams
Seal edges of sunny dreams
Soft sails sing silken songs
Sincerity sweetly sings along.

The whispers of Serenity.

     It might sound corny...but it is still a hug from 
     the heart to you,...

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O ther misconceptions of my
H ome of birth and where I spent some of my

Y outh is that 
E veryone lives in mud huts and wears grass
S kirts as tourists are greeted at the airport.

B ermuda is a place of 
E xceptions in that as...

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Flint 
Within its brilliance gleaming
Cool black in lacquered polished silver chrome
Cranked up pistons bleached in summer’s heat
Hot steam rising as gears thundering
Beyond the crystal liquid city lights
Highways built across the land
In hearts felt pride American dreams made real
Within its prime
Men in factories perfect their craft
Spit...

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I am a Savonarola chair
carved from discarded 
remnants of cedar and birch that
littered our backyard - 
waiting to be burned
or broken by a trespasser’s hands, 
or tended to by the warm touch
of a gardener’s natural instinct; 
an individual 
who values growth 
and prosperity.

I am an...

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A ringing bell in the near-distance makes her delicate body tremble, as she sat on the corner of the opaquely purple stained living room sofa. Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding. She grew in despair of how that pattern of sound had aroused the tiny hairs on...

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When I was young and just a lad
I learned a lot right from my dad
He taught me how to till the ground
He taught me many things quite sound

I learned to milk the goats we had
When I was young and just a lad
I learned to read...

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