Wonder Woman’s Eraser

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the blinds of my mind…lilt

a storied plot of disconnect and bad vertical holds fresh with scant static

I interviewed, repeatedly…the main character on merits

on fishbowl houses

and

smiling goldfish with one shoe

…

I keep coming back to these indoor graveyards

scrutinizing testimonials  from dead poets

at graffiti’s basement of cheap thrills

stirring up banshee’s with last centuries news

…

I have lit this vigilant firecracker so often just to watch it explode

someone else

anyone else

would have taken a powder by now

but this actor, this skinny cow reminds me

overturned stones eventually turn cold

…

I will come back at least three times more

first, with a left hand cane to pry open all the good that remains

second, with a stronger back to carry a weighty blind frog

third, with Wonder Woman’s eraser to remove my name

Drained of Your City Ways

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Dark the wood aching for sun

So many conversations we have had

Derelicts of the times, both good and bad

You and I, cloaked in a nasty game of hide and seek

…

In this, warring courtyard, curves and cushions of fodder

In this, crumbled down streets, forks and flexure and fixtures

…

I bend to breathe

Hollow becomes my rasp

Sharp is my bath water

Obstructed is my throat…

I quarrel with the words I say

Naked and ravenous, I take to the sodden road

drained of your city ways

Lonesome Stanger

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Wild-berry safer by itself.

Poison Ivy always meant to tease.

Misconstrued dam…wanton on the knee.

The natural order of things…easier to believe.

My overdone education has not hurt me none…

I can read the writing on the wall.

Walls move…and, minds do to.

Mother Nature, for certain, cannot be sued.

Indigenous mushroom.

Sumac tree with tainted leaf.

Please heed the call…

I am lonesome for you after all.

R.I.S.E – Reflections I should earn – UP!

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Beyond the dirty snow.  The deep bleak array of brown on tan.  Deep in the thick of it.  There can be complete

un-attachment.  Course, that is a late winter’s day in rural New Hampshire.

The fine art of living is a series of holding on and letting go.
A full pocket is not worth the price of an empty soul.
“Anyone can find the switch after the lights are on.” ― Confucius
Anyone can tell us that we must take life seriously. But there is no proof whatsoever that it must be that way.
We must be our own before we can be another’s, -R.W.Emerson
It is cowardly to go through life being the only one who know’s you are afraid.
Anyway the wind blows…therein begins the lie and the truth.

Look into any eyes
you find by you, you can see
clear through to another day
I know it’s been seen before
through other eyes on other days

Our Lovely Cat

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The cat lady?

Someone who will, whatever the journey, death and possible threat to human life, gets up from a dying position…to fondle a cat.

Brother Joe-left in a box
Silently licking his gold white paw, Oh gorgeous Celestino, for…God made lovely things, yet…Our lovely cat surpasses them all; The gold, the iron, the waterfall, the nut, the peach, apple, granite…Are lovely things to look at, yet, our lovely cat surpasses them all!  -the Cat, John Gittings