Late night treat
If it doesn’t gush out
It’s not blood
Or true
Is it bloody false?
If it doesn’t kill you
It’s not horrible
Or painful
Is it horribly beautiful?
Can we mince words like meat
And get something no one will eat?
Do words get all sweet and sour in your mind
But taste funny on your tongue?
Is figurative dance an aphrodisiac?
Or an act of defiance
By those who don’t dance, thank you very
much.
What does it make me if I’d rather make up
words
Than my face?
Rather play with words than drugstore dreams?
Can we sleep on it or
Do you get in your bed while I seem to float
above mine
Testing deeper shores of metaphor and rhyme
Reason always seems to arrive
Before turning on my coffee pot in the morning
But then again I can be terribly polite
In my
Caffeinated state
Feed me words for breakfast
And watch me soar
Housework
The wind is unrelenting in its
Request
Blowing into each open window
Like it belongs among the
Dust and debris
Of my half packed house
It feels urgent that i
Stand firm
Bending like a tree
Stay on the path
But accept the resistance
That I keep facing
To be present
Experience the swirling chaos
And the calm centre
To start moving forward
Aware of what’s holding me
Together
Not regretting change
Or chance
Feeling momentum building
But keeping daily tasks going
At a steady pace
Load the washer
Clean the dishes
Dust the mirror
Reflect only on what I can
See in front of me
Here
In me
It’s hard to see forever
With your eyes shut
I’m not stuck in a poem
I’m stuck in a life
That tried to
Build a house with
A fence
Leaving the poems
Outside
When I opened the
Windows
And the dust
Cleared
It was the poetry
That came beaming
In with the sun
He asked her on a date
Even the question
Came out foreign
A phrase he rarely spoke
Like a wonderful exotic
Magical expedition
Had been proposed
She had not gone out
In years
Before children had slept in her bed
More surprised that
He wanted to be seen in
Public with
Her again
Than that she saw
This small moment
To say yes
Greet her like a horizon
At the end of a long
Tunnel
Glances echoed off their
Faces
Hands and thumbs played
Lap games
Eager not to disappoint the other
The next morning
After some weak
Peppermint tea
She thinks she’s finally
Ready to
Say
yes
Home
The rhythmic, pounding
Pulse
Pulls out of me
What years of
Pushing
Never could
I have become undone
In another world
Birthed into being
By sound
I see you sleeping
and want more than anything
To colour your dreams happy
To remove the harsh looks and words from our
morning
To wet your cheek one more time with my kisses
To touch your scalp naked against my palm
To remember how precious you are
Awake
When you swallow every gesture of mine with
blind faith
And grow up
In spite of me
Eight haiku: Steps to Freedom
Tight fit for my grief
Words spoken, eyes averted
I got canned today
Foible future fears
Relax, it’s all in right time
Perfect time for pie
Empty space fills quick
Rubble and regret fall down
To keep me human
Light lighter than air
Escapes from my lungs on fire
Words burn on the page
Enough is enough
Leave your umbrella at home
Let the sky fall down
Keep the words coming
Nothing left to lose at all
Gain some peace instead
Provoke poems out
You know you can taste them now
Dripping from your heart
See past the mountain
Follow the stars and the birds
the way is clear now
Ease at the moment
Feels like
Creating a linoblock print
Precise
Narrow cuts
Angular and separate
Each surrounded by just enough space
To form a cohesive image
One slip
In any direction
Can distort the purpose
Destroy clarity
Blur the final product
Ease at the moment
Feels like thick ink
Waiting to be pressed into service
Heavy with anticipation
Anxious about when the fated act will happen
If it will hurt
If losing some of itself to a greater purpose
Makes the mess easier to clean up
Ease at the moment
Feels like the blank page
Radiant with longing
Beaming its intentions out into the studio
Knowing the artist can sense its presence
Aware that soon its purpose will be fulfilled
Grateful at the opportunity to serve
To display and uplift a vision greater than
itself
Ease at the moment
Takes me to the bottom of the page
To the end of this poem
Past the moment of doubt and
insecurity
Into the fulfillment of creation
And back into the calm
Of knowing
I am at
Ease in
This
Moment
Elevate
Alleviate
Elude the dark small talk
enter the light
entrance the one who waits
listening to the words still wet on your tongue
elongate your vision
ease your soul onto the sofa
drink tea and hold hands
envision more for yourself
than dirty dishes in the sink
and what to make for dinner
embrace the possibility that
they expect more from you
than clean clothes
and a full lunch box
you are being watched
for what you bring into the room
their lives
the smiles and tears
staying close to hear their fears
standing by when they want to be alone
keeping the lines open
Love leads
grace dances
life heals
Begin again
In the spiral of nothingness
To gravitate
To grieve
To gratify the immortals
To be guided towards greatness by the
whisper of the wind
To wallow thoroughly in your humanness
To dig your knees deep into the ground
Begin again
At the altar or pew
In dark, the dusk, the candlelight
will do
Begin again
To feel the ground beneath your feet
To smell the sea in the air
To see your breath through the tears
To remember that once again
To begin again
You must sense the timing and the
meaning
We stumble onto our knees
Desperate to be released from our own
stubbornness
Our pride – the last ditch effort to
outdo the universe
Thinking only we can provide control
and collide
The ground is hard and comforting
A railing – perhaps a tree or a bed
– holds us up
Through the night we ache
To be nature – natural again
To feel with our senses the sensual
pattern of nature
The ebb and flow of knowingness –
willingness
To turn with the tide instead of
against it
To breathe in the air instead of
trying to keep it out of our lungs
To escape into the dark – to find
meaning here in the silence and
Imagery of the soul
Earth longing for herself within the
willing spirit of a mortal
