droplets
hold wet
lulling
its sting
water
gets her
past tense
presence
cover
spatter
falling
air clean
loved skin
again
clouds gone
belong
our wedding day portrait
two made one
misted by years
masked by smoke-filled skies
bobby, gina—two of our three
days seared with sun and a child’s scuffed knee
through spelling tests piano recitals saturday games
kneeling together strokes of unquestioned belief
caps and gowns, crystal and dented brass
degrees in business and medicine
marriages grandchildren colors filling the sassafras
then job losses metastasis scares hospital gowns
loneliness
values smudged
quibbles spatter pigment
no one budged
boredom drowned in tanqueray the glass smelled of pine
blue smoke, screens, two strangers behind painted glass
lost in a bell jar of belladonna
two martini glasses, an untouched olive
the letter’s paper like granite, vows sun-washed away
body mind and spirit—desaturated
a torn canvas split along jagged lines
no reconciliation
reimagining life with unfamiliar faces
a torn canvas becomes two paintings
no masking tape or super glue
can ever repair a canvas torn in two
=======
Haunted by your gasps come eventide
the shimmer of vour shirt climbs
and rugged flesh of your torso
Traces those hips
as I fondle the crease from your spine
... to fine mold Brach's melody,
its mellow refrains accompanying
spatter of viscous honey ;
In a voice of sizzling quiet
that makes your arms part my sea ,
I inhabit wedded bliss in the mists of your eyes
and night's starglow melts before me:
This fragrance of total surrender
leads me to one , undefined moment
while I blossom delicately---
until we tremble as one
my nectar overflowing.
Existential.
Just like that old car.
Haunted.
I have energy, I have magnets.
Spatter within me.
Jumpy because I have light switches.
Pluddles.
Mercy.
The crisis started with a stranded feeling.
Like I was a pumpkin patch.
Whoosh.
It’s all old cars now.
Existential hope.
Because the car.
Because the withering-
Belongs.
I cannot make it simpler, plainer, flatter:
do not mistake my words for salesman’s patter:
‘direct’ is not the same as ‘idle chatter’.
You own a thing you never ought to shatter –
you got your Constitution on a platter,
and ‘peace’ beats ‘bleeding’. Never opt for spatter!
The former’s better (trust me) than the latter.
It’s fish that’s nourishing – ignore the batter
(the only thing it does is make you fatter).
We Europeans know. We have the data.
When enemies come challenging, don’t scatter.
Repose is better for your soul than clatter,
the dormouse wiser than the loony Hatter.
Thank you for your attention to this matter.
Splish splash splash;
It is a colorful blash;
A brown leaf floats in a bathtub,
Does a leaf make noise, I doubt!!!
Yup!!! A little colorful leaf,
plunges into the bath;
Makes a sigh as a sign of relief;
Soon, other leaves join the path
Spattering the drops,
They do hop;
Here, over there,
And everywhere.
The leaves play, they giggle;
They spray , they wiggle;
They make fun, they relish;
O! I could be these leaves, I wish.
Hey! Wait!!!
How come the leaves look so cute!!!
Oh, they are Munias!!!
Scaly breasted Munias!!!
Like the splashes they splatter,
My worries they spatter
Cute little munchkin peers
Make me shed happy tears after years...
02-June-2025
plink, plink, water in the sink
sinks slowly into budding suds
torturing the pans and fork tines
who want cascade - show on the road
plink, plop, hands over ears, now stop
but slowly the spatter of drops
like the slow go of a rain storm
keep habitating, repeating
their ear-splitting, liver-bellied
bullying of the spoons and cups
the apron-covered giant turned
off the faucet, threw in the rag,
then the sponge, ew…her hands with gloves
now each piece, that is us, is scrubbed
and ah, true running water-rush
each of us towel dried, put ‘way
from nightmarish brutality
we rest…we rest..until lipstick
lands on the side of grinds in cup
and pan slams onto surface heat
in other words, we get beaten
then comes water in sink, awaken
the bully who sleeps eight hours
look forward to vacation, hers!
We sleep on each other,
lick on each other,
run around and nip on each other,
we are wholly 'each other,'
personalities
hid
in the ruff and fur around our necks
and the snaggle of our teeth.
We wag in unison
heart-timers synchronized.
When out in the big smell
we seek every scent
that sprout's
from the muddy baths and the great
wafting sky-waves that call to our blood
to come join,
come lope and snuffle.
The trails of other's drives us crazy,
we roll in bundles of ecstasy,
squat, squirt and snap at the thick odiferous airs
then inhale the news from every rump
we greet.
Under our skittering paws
leaf and grass, spatter and scatter
as we charge into each other.
What are these leaves of grass?
Each one could be a page
in poem of sniff and scratch.
The wind threads through our snouts
and we shake our heads
until our brains rattle in wonder.
Old Walt Whitman forgets to mention us,
but deep within his far pacing musings
we are there like an itch.
When he pauses his pen to nap and dream
our breathy huff huffiness
tickles his toes.
Start of daylight summer.
Standing clouds do scatter.
Sun shines through raindrops, sail.
Smell of rain wet spatter.
Swaddles nature sitting.
Stunning rainbow it spins.
12/8/2024
Spatter Riot
Percolating slowly through the thin orange sheep skin,
The poison of chaos oozes through widening pores,
Bringing to boil the spattering seed of evil.
Sunny days of amber
Start daylight summer.
Skyline clear, veils of clouds' scatter.
Sunshine silhouettes placid and plenty
Sustain vivid space for dreaming beauty.
Sparrow sisters spirit chirp,
Scene engaging melody urp.
Semi-aquatic bullfrogs sing a cappella
Sight of festy aerial dragonfly’s gala.
Serendipity cast most timely,
Spontaneous lavish rain sublimely.
Smell of rain swaddles Nature finely.
Scintillating wet spatter collaborative.
Sun shines through raindrops weave,
Seamless hues, stretch of favorite colors mark,
Symbolic eternal life rainbow arc.
6/19/2024
RAINDROPS
Each and every raindrop plays its part
In a shower, or a torrential downpour
Do we know if they have a pointed tip
Or just a sphere, either shape will drip
Pure water in an innocent world before
Now slightly acidic, tasting faintly tart
When landing they spatter and coalesce
On windows, running down in a rivulet
And yet it’s worth looking to the skies
Letting all the raindrops wash the eyes
Be assured, all surfaces will soon be wet
Being caught in the rain can cause stress
The pitter patter of rain on a metal roof
Sometimes a comfort for the ill at ease
It breaks the grim silence of desperation
For the anxious, a source of frustration
Warm or cold, timely rain can still please
So stand and be welcoming, never aloof
Drooling along,
Every day.
No matter,
What people say!
My mother says," Shut your mouth! Your spewing drool all about!"
My father says, "I'm going to bed! No more drool on my head!"
My mouth is shut tight,
But the drool takes flight!
Over my lips,
Down my chin,
On my shirt,
Where it all soaks in!
I have a lavish style of dress,
Only the very best!
And if anyone is to check,
They know my clothes,
Due to the spatter of drool,
Across my shirt and under my nose!
I'm the only one with drool splattered clothes.
As everyone knows,
The boy who drools,
Wears the best clothes!
Once I went to work,
For a company that makes pullover shirts.
They had to test,
Which material was best!
To absorb the least sweat.
So, my drool has paid off,
Now I wear a new shirt every day,
With drool dropping every which way!
In the meantime,
I used my brain,
Started a company with shirts that don't stain.
He races aggressively from task to task,
churning through projects and products and pay.
Optimize, order, overdeliver.
Improve! For fast fades the day ...
You'd think he bores easy and can't sit still,
can't admire slow pleasures of life.
And you know it's pride or fear that drives him,
though he claims most of it's for a wife.
But you're wrong ... in his heart -
hooked up to adrenaline drips -
he fights for a dream of utter tranquility:
holding her, kissing her eager lips.
Slow love in a garden of beauty sublime.
No more pain. No progress of matter.
Just two hearts caught up in excelsior spirals,
while soul-bursting tears freely spatter ...
18 September 2023
Often
the rain has something to say to me,
but this rainy day
it is hyperactively neurotic.
Each of my shoes are waterlogged
by a squelching sky-fall.
Then again there is the soggy dribble
when the flood falters
and it plugs the dripping air
only to burst out in hysterical torrents.
It is not mute,
it mutters and sprays wet words;
a babble of bellicose blather.
I am drenched in my own sweat,
as weepy warm sweepings
wash over me.
I was hoping that the last spatter
and squall of the day
would have something to say
but it only seemed to hint at:
'Coming back again."
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