Bad poet, bad poetry…

I simply have no idea

what silver wisteria is…

 

beautiful or poisonous

or both

and I couldn’t tell juniper

 

from jasmine

if my life depended on it,

which, apparently

 

a poet’s does.

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Apocalyptic dumb luck…

apocalypseEnough will be enough,
finally,
when it is what it is;
no doubt about it
this time,
no great disappointment
or Julian recalculation,
no more merciful delay,
only tribulation
for those left behind
having ignored
the apocalyptic signs;
I will probably not
be ready;
maybe sleeping
or even worse, napping,
or indisposed
or picking my nose
when the trumpet
shall sound like
a jazz tone,
an archangel squeal,
laughing
while the clouds will
have that look
of sharp, bright rays
beaming through,
opening up heaven
at the end of days;
and one
date-setting schmuck
will finally be right
by sheer,
dumb luck.

You seem unhappy…


unhappyIt has come to our attention
that you are dissatisfied
with the general experience
of living, or so it would seem;
your constant complaints,
derogatory remarks, groans,
sour grimaces and typical
passive-aggressiveness
leave us with no other option
than to conclude that you
would be happier with
some other company;
therefore, please be advised
that effective in the immediate
future, possibly within as few
as six months, your employment
will be terminated and
a severance package will
be negotiated at the
discretion of the management
based upon your history
of contributions made
during your time with us.

Signed, the Management

I postponed my future…

It feels like I’m always late and
it’s getting worse as the weight of every
promise of ‘soon’ or ‘I’ll do that someday’ or
‘I hope to’ is carried over into tomorrow,
every book I should have read or every word I
should have said or all the times I said ‘No’
to something that could have been great
because something okay was waiting;

I know I couldn’t do it all – that’s not
what’s so disappointing; it’s not that the kids
didn’t wait to grow-up and wouldn’t slow down
although I begged at times; it’s the unmistakable
look in friends’ eyes when they can’t bring
themselves to admit it, when the pain in
their voices bleeds through consoling phrases
like ‘I know I couldn’t do it all’ that made me
realize I’ve postponed my future
until it’s too late.

Lewis and Clark – a love story…

lewis_and_clark_360x450Did you know that Lewis’s name,
the one of Lewis and Clark fame,
was Meriwether, of all things
whereas Clark’s Billy truer rings;

and along their way of 2 plus years
I imagine that among their fears
Lewis’s name wasn’t troubling
seeing the Mississippi’s bubbling;

exploring on Jefferson’s nickel
they firmly refused to be fickle
as they reported all mist and fog,
and included a pet prairie dog;

returning to St. Louis surprised
for all assumed they’d died
by the hand of bear or buffalo
they’d survived enough to know;

small celebrations, dinner, a fire,
travels to celebrate, fame to admire
parades couldn’t keep them together,
as William separated from Meriwether.

 

 

To the end of the world…

WalkingThe world ends somewhere,
I know it does;
not sometime as in a date in some apocalyptic
‘you’d better watch out, you’d better not cry’
kind of way,
but a place, an edge, a cliff that
doesn’t look like the world’s end until it’s
too late
when you’re hit with that falling sensation
from dreams
or the lurch in your stomach that only happened
when you were a kid,
riding in the back seat of the station wagon;
that end somewhere
is not where people don’t live or work or love
or care even,
because they don’t care at all where
the world ends,
but I do and I think it’s
somewhere just past Iowa,
if you’re wondering.

Always on second base…

lighteningAs a young boy
standing in my front yard
that doubled as our diamond
perspiring after a game with friends
on the hottest summer day of August,
we were scattered to our homes
by a threatening storm from the west
mounting up as a wall,
sending streaks of lightening;
that first awed, then frightened,
and I was left alone
when a cold wind struck me,
froze me in my place,
standing on second base,
with a chill that shivered my skin,
and still does.

All that is right…

ladybug.jpgHow inconvenient the pause
which made everyone stop
for a child’s whimsy because
she saw a ladybug on top

of a black-eyed Susan just now
and with hands behind her back
she stumbled to a stop to spy,
wide-eyed I heard her purr,

as adults shifted impatiently
around the wonderful youth
cursing awe as she aimlessly
worshiped all that is right.