Friday, July 29, 2005

Breakfast is Coming

Today is bagel day
I say it under my breath
as my eyes open.
I waited for this day
for a week.

Even though I am
old, my mind
is hard like an egg shell,
I can still come to life
with a joy.

It was egg day yesterday
mostly because we
had no bread, potatos
almost worked to deepen
the texture. But today

after the money came
we have cream cheese.

Tuesday, July 26, 2005

Incorrect Theory Poem

With deficits in areas of honor
not even scorned, left
enjoying few victories,
defeats feeling like
home, couldn't be a cock
couldn't crow,
romance abandoned,
never competed with
the best at love
yet quietly
does.

Sunday, July 24, 2005

Special Visitor

Yesterday I received
an early morning visit
from the Great Gray who
greeted me saying,
"well now, I came to observe
how the house arrest is going."

My eyes popped open
and I answered,
"Oh!Is that what it is?"

Friday, July 22, 2005

Ghostly Sighing

Whenever a ghost
sighs, a poem is written.

Poems come from ghostly sighing,
pleading for something
snatched away too soon
or given too late.

As soon as I seek my notebook
I know I'm not
whole enough to live
without friends in other worlds.

Monday, July 18, 2005

If

I was more of a traveller
before anything happened,
before I knew if anything would,

a disbelieving traveller
into the dark with no goodbyes from
people I knew only in passing,
and nothing ahead but wanting.

My breath catches
at the thought of those journeys
from cold freedom in one house
to another with the first flakes of Winter,

one thousand miles by bus through the
making of false claims to impress
strangers. My mouth tasted bitter.
Dangerous fantasies bedeviled my mind.

I was a young, blind worm,
covered with sweat in the dark.

Saturday, July 16, 2005

Innoculation of the Ladies

Fragile women with thin legs
and little smiles glide
down Wendylene Drive in Summer.

Half dancing in their wispy dresses.
They only want to taste,
bringing to their delicate lips
and sipping mild forms of the world.

They want vaccine with few symptoms.

Wednesday, July 13, 2005

Tank of Tears

I see you, blood and flesh
with your tank of tears
as you see me with mine.
Is your spout still dripping
or have you
frozen it shut as I have?

Ready with their greetings
are many who want to watch you
turn the tap to spill your burden.

Time and memory will help you,
or fragrance from the past.
Mere words, when they
remind you of what
you really want,
can open it, making you hurt
and soften.

Sunday, July 10, 2005

Poster

Saturday, July 09, 2005

A Long Time

Her presence is so
assumed that little sounds
morph into her voice.

I am called into the night
by fence twists in the breeze.

Even when we speak
about pain every day
we have sunshine.

Her voice in the squeaks of a chair
draws me into my accustomed family spots,
talk about pain
and before that.

Tuesday, July 05, 2005

Like Magic Beans

The word is the kind of word
that makes him gasp as if
the memory it calls takes him
outside the ordinary stream of things
to the farthest point of fright.

It's like the salesman
on the way to the fair when he
sees Jack's cow and says"magic beans" with his mouth open
hardly able to catch his breath,
"magic beans," "MAGIC beans,"

the fear of God
for someone who came close to
seeing God's face, not just
theory but fact that fits nowhere
among facts. a lump of fact
that won't be swallowed along with
the smooth porridge of the world.

What does he know that he can't say?
In his dark secret passage through
the day what stops him
that makes him tall
and brightens his eyes?

Saturday, July 02, 2005

Census

The city swirls around
plump with smiles and
assumptions about forever,
cheeks tight with youth.

The city swells with color
and laughing twinkles down
paths marked in cash.

Behind the light,
in pockets of missed time,
elders lose their memories and
replace them with tales.