It came from where its going' thats all i can explain, just as water vapour, un-pours up to the sky again.'no pause to
Understand creation ever will suffice.' To
Know and grow, is pertinent all human movements condensed in a trice.' You buy
Whats not yours, we speak of us.' We gather disperse, as a cosmic dust, we'll only take a minute, that our hands can't hold, we progress then regress as we wear into old, much we desire, much we loose
Much we'll never have, we can judge and choose, we unlike water will run up a hill'
We are the constant, contradictive we
leave behind wills.' That notify officialdom, about some material weatlth
So they can siphon of assets,
from perhaps? Some carefully stacked shelf.' Yet all is dissolving, all is meant to pass
Many argue on some details, while the devil rarely laughs' all his concern is on
Stealing, your soul once you have
passed.' And you have
played to each; and every goal.'
Dust motes dance in the
moonlight where the rotting
porch boards moan beneath
my feet.
Thick, silver cobwebs drape
like burial shrouds over the
rotting, abandoned foyer.
A sudden, frantic squeaking
echoes from the floorboards,
followed by the scuttle of a
hundred hungry spiders.
The decrepit house breathes,
its wall pulsing with the phantom
sounds of distant, agonizing yells.
I try to retreat, but the front door
slams shut, locking me inside the
suffocating darkness.
Invisible fingers brush against
my neck, and the temperature
drops to a freezing, unnatural chill.
The screaming starts then- a chorus
of tormented souls trapped forever
within the cursed timber.
I run up the spiraling staircase,
only to find the hallway crawling
with grotesque, shifting shadows.
The walls close in as a deafening
shriek shatters the silence, and the
house claims another victim.
Now I am just another spectral
noise in the dark, forever screaming
in the spider- infested void.
A wild eyed host shrieked, “Buy this pill!”
With a grin that said I no longer feel chill
Then the side effects roared
The host’s words cut like a sword
“Diarrhea so violent it may run up hill!”
When I was young,
I always got so excited,
When my mother told me I was visiting my grandmother,
Packing my bag I was delighted,
I would get to her manor,
Run up to the driveway,
To see the woman in gold,
With open arms in the doorway,
We would laugh, we would sing,
We would lose track of time,
Every visit was unique but one thing would stay the same,
She would teach me how to make,
Her famous Chocolate Cake.
can this be arranged?
how would you go about this without causing
too much hassle?
i don't know any captains
what, ever?
no, never.
but our house is full of children this evening
and two notes are dropped from the stairs
they land with a pat on the marble tiles
and the adult conversation stops.
i pick up the first note, which reads,
"you ARR gong to be murdered. thanks."
i pick up the second;
it reads the same, but the punctuation and spelling
are correct
i run up the stairs to make sure it was my son who wrote the second one.
Let me stay safe
and lost, so perfectly
in your labyrinth, Bowie.
I am not Jennifer Connelly.
I am Jennifer Christina.
Two of my sisters are not there,
with you.
One of them
is already in the clouds
of another Labyrinth.
The puppets are not
playful in this
maze.
I choose to forget
the last line,
so, I can keep listening
to your songs,
on repeat.
"It's only forever.
Not long at all."
“Yes, I do believe in you,
yes, I do.”
Stairs, take
me nowhere.
Let me run up and
down, mocking
gravity, and my own
sense of direction.
Flip upside down,
downside up,
and through me.
One of us
is effervescent.
One of us is
singing.
One of us is still
listening.
One of us
is magic.
"Your eyes can be
so cruel.
Just as I can be
so cruel."
Find me, only me,
too intensely.
“Live without the sunlight.
Love without your heartbeat.
I…I…I… can’t live within you.”
Now that this football season is o’er
And the Bulldogs are champions no more
Still give Kirby a raise
And let’s pray for the days
We’ll play ‘Bama and run up the score
1932 till 1972...Public Health Services put
Black males in a study, that much is true.'
Imperitive was that the course be run up
To death, then autopsy no true medical help to be given under tavel of moon or sun
The incentive for participents.? Free hospital cover, and funerals paid.' In Tuskagee Alabama, was the place it was out-played.' Fast forward to 2020 what real
Difference in advice and care did we observe? After ninety eight years..I"m asking.! What about you.?
the evening is alive with promise
dogs lie on their porch, loving the breeze
chimes are tinkling in a happy manner
there are two sounds – the air conditioner and crickets
the wind picks up strength; leaves rustle
one dog’s head comes up; he gulps some wind
in the distance a dog barks. My two dogs are on their feet.
They run up the hill barking with serious intent.
She smoked
She smoked,
my mother did, a LOT!
I never liked it.
To me she looked like
of those “molls” in
detective magazines,
later on television,
cigarette dangling
from the corner
of her mouth
acrid smoke
curling up (she didn’t inhale)
choking the air
as she played cards
or worked
at her desk.
To be sure,
there were “issues”
between husband and wife.
Mid-Great Depression
Dad out of work
or out of town for work
alone with
kids to manage
clothe and feed
with what?
So she smoked.
Small family Jewish
grocer let bills run up.
Smoking a comfort?
Housedresses, nothing new,
shoes needed for kids.
Teeth bad, pull them.
Children need dental care.
Sharp tongue cutting
no whining
“Just get on with it”.
Hurt, not understanding
we sulked. She smoked
Smoking and smoking
taking in relatives
with lost jobs, lost homes,
sick or in need, managing somehow
depressed (never admit it)
feeling put down,
frustrated, underrated
and underappreciated
never accomplished anything
worthwhile with her
college degree.
But, in her own way,
a saint in a housedress
Smoking away the grief.
It is over sixty degrees today
Unusually warm for pre-March Kansas
I sit on my porch, sunbathing
Wearing corduroy slacks, a jacket and tennis shoes
A swift breeze gives my face a bit of a chill
My fingernails are black, so I do a little grooming
What did I get into? The black comes out as crumbles.
My dogs are overjoyed that I am out here.
They run up and down the length of the porch, showing off.
Every time I think I will shake the rug, a dog lands on it.
There is a siren sound in the distance, it has desperation
Our ears go up, but none of us bark
We are as respectful of that siren as a soldier could be
I look at the remnants of woebegone snow
It looks sad, knowing its days are numbered
A late February day in Kansas
Porch sitting and listening
Curiously no bird sounds
I hear a neighbor for a brief second, only a few words
Advantage of living in the country
‘Twas the night before Christmas and baby
Liz-Beth cried, crawled, and sat waiting for me.
My police neighbor trains a NARC doggy
Liz sees, does, and sits by her need…daddy.
‘Twas the night before Christmas with kitty
run up our tree limbs from NARC-BARK doggy.
Families oldest—not me—son Kenny
went out on a limb. Said, ”Come here Monkey.”
‘Twas the night before Christmas…Slippery
slides on floors and walls. Very neighborly
keeping feet on chairs and tables. Snotty
caught a cold it can’t shake—from son Franky.
‘Twas the night before Christmas…Alexy
is a skater. All seasons with Nosey
her bandit raccoon get very messy.
Alexy’s coon will be skating someday.
‘Twas the night before Christmas—misers turn
as a Fifth Avenue trunk is well-earn
for the unwrapped gifts are of no concern.
Emptied pool covers bike/motorbike--yearn.
honey rays sunbeams
enter through window
old oak tree's leaves dance
squirrel run up trunk
mate sits on back fence
feel recliner
yorkie silk hair
porcelain cup
forced vent warm air
news station
dog barking
ears ringing
coffee
bacon
eggs
Be kinder to the tree, they say
Don’t poke or prod or cut at it
Don’t try to break its branches
Don’t run up to attack it
Be kinder to the fish, they say
Be gentle with the guppies
If caught just let it swim away
Don’t try and fish for copies
Be kinder to the little guy
Be softer, like a mother
I know you’re meant for it, they say
Helped raise your younger brother
Oh but I won’t, Oh but I can’t
Don’t want to live the horrors
I choose to not participate
To not hand out disorders
Pass down our long-lived misery
Pass down all of our karma
I choose to be a butterfly
Not trapped in my own armor
And now my future is in halves
Two choices on the table
To birth a child, or to not
I choose to not be able
Barking at the dog
One day the dog got angry
I run up a tree.
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