Short Clumping Poems

A pointless dot,
clumping in the surge
of edges and curves

A clumping dot,
in the pointless surge 
of edges and curves

A surging dot,
in the pointless clump
of edges and curves...

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Frayed edges, dust and dirt clumping in little hands
After the sun shower, cast out to the rough cobbled
Street. 

Newborn in her arms, mom watches as the children
Climb the three foot rope-swing, merrily dangling
Above toy trucks and doll-houses.

Smiling, we glide past, comforted, family at my side
As we carry treasures from the street market back
Home, knowing I too enjoyed such moments, and
Share them still today.


Portland, Oregon
June 2021...

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A selfish liar for hire
Setting fire
To more than rain
The pain
Succumb to numb,
Become someone 
Dying
Flying higher
Than our crying
I’m supplying
Something dark and
Dangerous
It’s been fun for us
Guess I’ll see
What we’ll be
Once the feeling leaves
Reach the sea
Wait
I paint
The sighs
Of my delights
Across the skies
Only know why
I wanna die
Not why I’m still alive
You’ll hear 
My fear
Blood clumping
I’m jumping
We’ll find each other
On the other side...

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