Monthly Archives: January 2015

A HUNDRED POEMS – LXVI

I think today
i broke a word
in my ignorance
i did the deed
Within my garden
i stabbed with spade
upon a letter in damp soil,
lay the bee!  in my haste
i slay-She! and shouted
in thunder: “Oh!
It cannot, BEE!”

:: – ::


CAMILLE ANTOINETTE CLIFFORD

You were my heart
in many ways
i measured
i took the numbers
and died
a physical heaven
so sorry but men
love the curve of time
Camille Clifford
i give a moment
in summer
i Smile fan and dress
goose and mother
and time with all
she said she wanted
(it’s all she needed)
just a kiss upon
the cheek of Time

:: 01-24-2015 ::


THUNDER MASKED MY SCREAMS

i cried and
the rain covered
my tears
and the thunder masked
my screams
and i hated being
so human

:: 01-24-2015 ::


LIFE IS LIKE A NEW DAY

Dew, my love
so sweetly awaits
the first burst of light
and too, my heart
it comes today;
a morning greeting
i should be there
with the bee
spreading harmony

:: 01-24-2015 ::


THE INFINITE NOODLE

i knew by culture, Death.
No man, if men are gods,
i met life in meager words.
And too, i met Love in ‘it’
the notes of dead Men.
I, too, met precious Life
in scribbled notes of Man,
the two women of my Heart
they keep the grounds neat
in famous garb.  I should meet
them too, one day in the shade
we have much to say:
did you mean ‘Love’ or ‘hate’
was it ‘death’ or ‘date’

:: 01-24-2015 ::


THAT MY HEART IS A SONG

that my heart is a song
between the beak of a bird
where secrets of life are,
whomever disparages souls
are like humans who never learn!

like the feet who never knew
wings, so fearless and thirsty
soaring, and on Mondays I may
be wrong for many souls are
searching for their lives.

and my hands are my feet,
usefully loving one’s self
so more than truly
feeling. I’ve never seen
a fool who could fail
soaring above the skies
pulling the veil over eyes.

:: 01-25-2015 ::


OH, POET? DO SPEAK!

Oh, poet?  Do speak!
the mumbling-foolery
a pompous excursion
of expanded hearts
By anonymous nameless ages
we are the forgotten souls
let our words survive
and what is the flesh
when matched against words?
NOTHING!
sO, –i PRAISE
the temple God
of scribbled notes
and let my skin fold
inside the vase of time

:: 01-22-2015 ::


WRONG

And if everything true
had a rightful place
would there be enough
space?  I should believe
more room for all the wrong.

:: 01-22-2015 ::


THE LAST DAY OF WINTER

And my soul sings, “this winter,
my Lord, is too long
bring back the summer and,
where cheerful hearts dance
within fielded flowers
of daisy-romance,” so I too
long and sing my song.

To bid a lasting farewell
to ice and crystal-fallen
art, I wish today with
all my heart!

:: 01-22-2015 ::


THE CHILDHOOD REVISITED

And the daylight danced upon the heart
of the man who laid across the lap
of his woman.  Upon a bench within
a park, his childhood hidden.  And when
the clouds obscured the sun, his heart
leaped forth as a child!  His lover
murmured:  Are you here?  The distant
laughter of playing children.  And his
eyes flowered-opened and saw the light
of all the day and even night, within
the gaze of the woman who allowed him
a moment to become a child.

:: 01-22-2015 ::