Sunday, May 11, 2008

Mother's Day

Oh tender day
remember her sweet touch;
mourning doves coo

Tuesday, May 6, 2008

Ode To My Neighbors Canine Canary Chorus

dogs barking, barking
awake, again, at midnight
shut up you assholes!

Tuesday, April 1, 2008


I felt those words start as a light tingle

In the back of my mind

And I knew they were meant to be seen

It was as if the paper turned magnet

Drawing them out from the inside of me

Narrowing down to flow like blood

From my fingers, sliding down the

Yellow pencil drop by drop and there was nothing

I could do to stop it

Had I even wanted to

My whole body curved to the paper

Like a wind was pressing me closer

And the tingle turned to a burn

Spreading through my body like an

Prairie fire

And it felt bad and it felt good

It was as if... I was making a wall

Brick by brick, only from the topside down

Each word a wavering block

The surrounding sentences, the mortar

I had to keep going until I reached the ground

Near to the end as I read the words Id penned

And felt the burning ease up and go

I saw my creation was not a staid wall

not at all

through the haze of the smoking fire I saw

The spire of my glorious cathedral


bittersweet reminder

beneath the frost; your smile and

lips once loved by mine

Just Short Of Heaven


the moon, a thumbnail

bitten to the quick, did rise

to heaven then stop

Flee the Warmth

Nights of running streets

Memories trickle down like spring mist

Wetting the face I wear now

The pains of gasping for air

Throttled chest aching are burned into my brain

Scarred by too many lanes and avenues of avoidance traversed

Never a backward glance given unless to eye the

Shimmering lights immersed in the dusty bodies of moths

Sometimes pausing at this unexpected beauty to rest I

Lingered under those clots of dusty stars until they dissolved

Showers of gray fuzz blanketing the cracked pavement

Undeniable warmer I then, found myself, on the run again

Sheryl McCurdy


She is sharp like the ice

That shatters on the pond

Where she walks

Glassy eyed fish float to the surface

Bubbled pops of air frozen in time

Breath captured in minute globes follow

She is hard like the glacier that does not melt

So cold and smooth with her dislikes

The skin of her face crackles into coarse feathers

Daring the hand to stroke and smooth them back

She is numb to the Chinook wind and does not melt

Sheryl McCurdy

Monday, February 25, 2008

Heart In A Jar

like the hummingbird moth I caught

for my daughters biology class

no more fluttering


alone save for

a cotton ball holding a lethal drop of acetone

slow death

is best

otherwise they lose their color

she explained

pale blue

spread out


pinned to a card


I wanted to forget

what it was like

to feel the way I felt

that emotional tidal wave

just turned me



awake now and again

and again

thinking about love and its prelude

kissing and never mind just never enough


I wanted to forget

gone and good bye

my misty blue

my ocean

we thought we would be someone's dream

and then

one day

we just

drifted apart


Fairly soon I think my God fairly soon
I would hope
The reason for this season will
raise up it's head and say
This is why yes by God this is why


just under the slate gray daybreak
a crunch of gravel turns my head
towards the path I spy walkers
fully wind suited and waving arms they giggle and
rapidly ambulate
burning calories
swivle hipped they step through a rabbit warren
stomping across the babies
hearing tiny screams they stop,
bend over
and realize their crime
uncertain they shriek, hands spread,clasping their sweating cheeks
with $100 sneaker footed delicacy they kick dirt over the quivering mounds

next year they will say, "Remember that one morning we walked through the rabbits?" and they might shudder in rememberence

60 Words & "C"

"A Celebration!",you insisted, "Remember Cali?";
Chinese food on the cold, cement patio...carelessness with clothes..conversations about all things celestial, how you enjoyed watching the cardinal feed his mate...,
and then
we were laughing together about the scrabble games and the time you spelled "cerebellum" on a triple word score

Above our heads, a comet slashed the night sky.

Wednesday, January 30, 2008

Still No More

Scallops of ripples
Flounced across quiet waters
Kissing the sandy banks and then
With a flirty toss began again to
Undulate sinuously returning
Occasionally revealing the
Pearly underside of
Her wave
And now
Delicate turns
Choppy and
And roiling
Boiling beneath the
Frothing in a murderous rage
A whirlpool
Twisting around and around and around
Trapping the calm
Caged by a wall of icy breakers
Threatening to crash
Shores once sandy smooth
Now strewn
With the remains
Of a silent soul
Still now
Not by choosing meditation
But paralyzed
And fear and

Are You Afraid To Sleep?

the spirits are out tonight
in shades of darkness they quiver
coming out of the corners and closets
floating over the bed
and they shift
subtle at first
braver they approach
perhaps just brushing by your hand
thinking a fly has landed you swat and miss
then looking
eyes open wide you stare into the face
of a diaphanous madness
can you just lie there
with visions of sugar plums intact
or will the fear pin you down on the bed
while cold clammy sweat marks a path
across the pale phantom of your cheek
will you dare to bolt for the nearest light
to kill the silent beasts
then so armed return to hide yourself
beneath inpenatrable quilts and sheets
will you feel protected do you think
enough to close your weary eyes and sleep


the ticking. . .
the tocking. . .
auditory delusions
resemble your footsteps
on the stairs
the screeching lub dub
of my heart
then yet
beating again
fingernails on a blackboard
and still yet
hours spilling
through skeleton hands
drop by
parasitic memories
in tow
draining or freeing?
constant ticking
noises noises surrounding
yet anemic remaining

Refresh My Soul

Daydreaming...nodding head and sigh
whispered dreams of paradise
fasten to the heavy lidded eye
Lush grasses moist with dew part for feet that wander through
Until at last amazed to see Edens Garden come to view
Pausing awestruck eyes alight on pool of clear cerulean sky
Lustrous pearl of glowing delight - grasses flowers and trees on every side
Heavy laden stocked with luscious blooms,ripened fruits and seeds
Hark - a fish jumping out the pond arching silvery back and looks as if to wink and say 'welcome to my garden. I hope you'll stay and play'
Soft the breezes blew - enough to cool the brow
Reeds did whisper near the shore a haunting soulful tune
Sandy beaches white with grains were silky smooth to feet
Hollow logs were placed in perfect line of view of sunset warmly melting yellow orange against cerulean blue
Slip into the water naked as a newborn babe
Feel the lap of water warm as toast in sun and coolly fresh in shade
Swim or float or dive in shining water sky
Rise from waters edge to feel blossom scented cooing winds kissing skin til dry
Then - starry sky will light a path through orchards lacey trees
Leading back those souls refreshed and plump with joy from new awakening

Take Me To The Fire

That harlot, she is no worry to me
For I have lived forever and a day
In the arms of my passions fire
Burning as if my blood were at a rapid boil
And never caring what the damage would bring
I have lived forever and eternity
Submerged myself for seconds then minutes then hours then days
Underneath thick clouds of fiery steam
Curled up into and embracing
A throbbing white heat that enveloped me
Time is nothing
For I have been to the moon and back
And I have seen the ice age come and go
Watched the creatures the earth once nurtured become extinct
I have seen the Garden of Eden
I have heard the hissing of the serpent
I have singed my mouth on those candescent apple fruits
I have no fear of dying without living
And I am comforted by the blisters I wear
Kiss me until the world disappears
Our love will radiate the bluest flame
Parch me with those lips of cinder
Take me to the driest desert and love me on the sun
Carry me up to heaven or down to the gates of hell
Riding on the waves of your incinerating gaze I'll travel
To a place no time machine has gone or ever will

An Invitation to Winter

Undulating rivulets

carpeted the ancient face of the pond

as I dangled my feet there bare

of a summer day

winter was a dewdrop

cool to the tongue

beading on the wavering horizon

cavorting shyly

hoping for an invitation to play

Wild Poems To Lasso

I was just lying there
Almost asleep
When my mind broke open
Like a dropped egg
Thoughts and poems slid out
Floating free
Running wildly
Kicking at my brain
I was afraid as I came fully awake
To move
For fear I would disturb the filmy mist
They floated in
I repeated silently over and over these words
Wanting to cage them
Press them down on a pinnacle of no escape
When I at last rushed toward paper
They scattered like a wild herd of horses
I gathered my pen and began to lasso the closest
And worked my way to the end

When Moonlight Wanes

Moon rises faceless
eyes blinded to life graces tonight
Turning away wishing for day light
Always motions to go through and duties to perform
Pleasurable kisses of a warm love face cold shoulders icy thrust on this Spring midnight
but .. . What of moons silky rays of milk bathing lovers souls warm within
Why have lighted plumes of feathers flown away
What sweet madness scattered moon lit stars as far slung seeds across the milky way but turned snowy flames of lovers light to faded longing for the day
Can again the waning midnight glow be fanned to fires flaming heat and light the lovers path ethereal when might they choose to tryst a bit
Pray O' Moon delight us once again with beauty that you alone possess
With your soft and guiding hand lead us on the way with touch of loves caress

Fighting the Fade to Night

losing the battle
fingers splayed
an orange struggling to compose itself
trying to pull in the sections
one by one
but failing
then trailing into the water
fingers through the pudding
furrows of ripples displaced
color waning faint
desparate bobbing
bobbing, again then
grey greying
deeper still
at last . . . finally fade

Spider Time

I take my time now
stretching it out
wanting to keep every moment
thick and golden
keep it longer somehow
I watch the female wolf spider
her web an extraordinary affair
stretched between two pillars of our porch
I see her knitting furiously
a silken egg bag slung across her back
making her delicate features
swollen grotesque hunchbacked
I know her
I know how she feels
the clock ticking
minutes dribbling away at an alarming speed
how she must worry
will she be able to finish
this her last motherly duty
before she withers
then turns into a minute crumb
blowing away on a puff of the breeze
I want to feel time wrapped around me
thick and golden and sweet as honey
taste it
savor it
smell it
before I wither and my crisp remains are carried away

Shadows Are Not Enough

the breeze of your shadow
touches my hair
passing by
drawing too near
the breath of the darkness
and whispers
my love goodbye
the coolness of your shadow
brings the blood
of my body to a slow
crawl then halt
what need have I
for that rich hot boil
without you
an echo of your shadow
isn't enough for my heart

Friday, December 21, 2007


between fingers pressed
against the clear pane of glass
moonlight trickles in


My heart
- there on my sleeve
My poetry


Two nights after Christmas
We lay flat out on the
Cold pavement watching
Ten o clock moonlight
Chase strings of clouds
Across the sky and wide open eyes
Full of wonder
Gazing until the numbness pressed too
Tightly upon our bodies then we
Rose stiffly to stagger inside
Tingling in painful warmth we talked of miracles and
Drank hot chocolate brewed in our home
Humming with electricity


She didn't want to know the names of his children
Or about his daughters dog who scratched through the screen door
One night chasing the neighbors cat
The fact that tomorrow was one year to the date
He had purchased his first book of poetry and now
He owned more than 50 was something she could have done without
These items would be stashed forever into the growing pile of
Too much information she didn't want
To remember
Or come across in her random searching of memories for perhaps
The way her mother had fried chicken
Or the formula to convert pounds to kilograms
Her polite manner and helpful demeanor wrapped around her
Like a very thick cape and
Hid her anger toward this aimless conversation, though
She wanted only to close her eyes and fall into the pleasing
Darkness where nothing mattered except
The rolling shimmer of pure lust that rippled through her
When his body talked to hers without any need for spoken words
Painting her scope of vision silvery gleaming black with a
Scattering of tiny lights beckoning, just out of reach
Please, she thought, Just shut up
She wanted only to rise, clinging onto luminous waves of heat
Arms outstretched helpless and then slowly slowly sink
Deep into pools of warm silk quietly telling herself all the while
I know with certainty this is all I will ever need


Every last dream that was ever dreamed

Started its journey from the bottom of an endless sea

Rose to the surface struggling through the currents fighting to breathe

Wanting to live

Newborn and clinging to the wild white caps of water yet,


Hopes and wishes of mightier seas were still its aspiration

Blindly trusting someone to pluck it from the dangerous waters and gift it wings

From a distance all bob and curl on the turbulant waves much the same

Some that will be soaring to greater heights and

Others that will swirl into oblivion, and slowly sink


Soft the chimes of waning winter ring
Playing tunes of silver
Cool yet with hints of warmth are seen
Through the curtains of mist in the break of dawn
Birds shiver yet as they feed
Though everyday there are more
Gathering around the pond to visit
Bathing in the sunlight mid morning rays
The children shed their coats quickly now
Hot from the brisk walk home from school
Their cheeks no longer burning from the cold
Bites of northern winds have mellowed with age
Soon the days will lengthen into balmy yellow
Shadows will be cool and comforting
When we seek out full leafed trees
Happy for a bit of shade


She gets lost on hot walks beneath cherry blossoms

Scattering pink kisses on June breezes

Pretending she is someone else

She stubs out an injured bat like a cigarette and cries

About the stain that won't come out of those brand new shoes

But isn't sorry for the pain she's caused

Hasn't ever been before

Why start now she reasons

She throws away the instructions that come into her life

Before reading them

Laughs and seems to manage


She hates surprises she tells her friends

But secretly wishes for them

Just the same

She walks the longest when the lilacs glisten

Beneath the kisses of a midnight rain

Her hair pressed into a slick dark cap

Falling tears feeding the watery frenzy

She walks alone in a private storm

Lost in thought

...but never, ever forgetting

She's just pretending


She doesn't comb her hair

Wears black shawls with foot long fringe


Opens the dumpster for scraps of life

To convince her of reality

I wonder about her sanity

Relish the glimpse I have of her childish abandon

Linger when she arrives to inspect my recyclables

Wish I were her for a day

She dances at midnight alone

Beneath the streetlights


Fluttering in a soft black shawl


The words to an unknown song

I wish I knew her better

Wish I knew that tune

She walks in the heat of the day

Wrapped in layers of wool

Looking for something or someone

And I can't stop wondering

Who she was and what she did

Before her song

Became a toneless humming


The sun beat down burning off the last blur of the day
leaving a razer sharp edge
gleaming brightly
painful to the naked eye
the sprinklers ran full force
water evaporating before it could
saturate the dead grass roots
the wind blew and blew and blew
fingers of boughs were creaking
as they combed through their chattering leaves
the garden gate gave a rusty chime every now and then
clothes flew off of the line...
she stood by an empty field and felt herself drifting
bit by bit
then a rush as she swiftly bled away
she was a tumbleweed
hollow and full of thorns
rolling across the empty plains
nothing could hold her fast
even the air was light today
the waves of grasses rolled her along
as though she were sailing the mighty sea
toward endless beckoning horizens
she would never reach
the dirt began to gambol about
and a dog began to yip
then her eyes sent out a silent plea
reflecting emptiness
and she stooped to gather the dirty clothes
save for a white lace handkerchief
that was fluttering there in the wind
and as she watched it take wing and fly
her eyes seemed to light up
and she whispered ever so softly...'Goodbye'


Along the shore a panoply of cranes
Vamped for one another
Seemingly delighted
Singing off key
A madrigal of some sort
(The sound of which I've not heard since the last time there was karaoke at the sports bar, Thank you Lord)
All were merry save for one
A laggard who straggled behind
Skirting the alluvion
Avoiding the badinage of his fellow mates
Preferring instead to gaze at his feet, the shelf of trees beyond the shore
Anything but the playful crowd before him
He scorned them
Through and through
When they urged him join their fun
He screwed up his face as if he just bitten an exquisitely piquant grapefruit!
Not he, oh heavens no
He was destined for greater things than such mirth on the beach
Childish antics and singing?
Not for he
Not a one could gloze him to mingle
He raised his bill as high as he could
A scunner of such silliness he would remain
He was so busy avoiding the group
He wandered farther and farther away
Good! He thought
Good riddance to bad rubbish! He said
He would wait here, at the edge of the wood, for the finale
His 'clat debut
His life to begin
His destiny was that of a King, or great Lord he thought
Fame! Fortune! Behold I am here! He shouted out loud
Alas, the lone crane would soon know his true meaning
For fate led him directly in front of a fox den
To proclaim his wants and demand his worthy reward
And as he stood with wings outstretched
Beseeching the God of greatness to arrive
He got just exactly what he deserved


Jet black and curved
Stairways to climb and
Banisters to slide back on down
Laughter calls out from the corners of this room
Alabaster walls with
Imprints of ancient tears
Echo beneath the high heeled
Realtor as she says
New heater, fenced in yard and nice lines
We say we'll take it
Much to our mouths surprise
She smokes and says
Good and shuffles papers wearily
Tired of the muffled giggles and never ending cries
Her worn pantyhose are painted with a dot of clear fingernail polish
Just behind her left knee
But when she crosses her legs
Her sheer control top in 'nude' splinters
Sending out a myriad of runners
They race past her spider-veined calf
Collapsing on her calloused heel in silky brown waves


The tired cough
early morning trucks
hack their way across town
next to you
shoulders bent to the weight
eyes wide open and ear pressed flat against a pillow case
embroidered with a grinning bulldog and the dark blue word 'Lover'
and yet,
we wait
outside the birds begin idle chatter
and the neighbors dog begins to bark
and the newspaper hits the door with a thump
and yet,
we still wait
drowning in dreams or wishes
needing, I guess, the shriek of the radioshack
to wake us
to make us
to face us
finally then, to pull us
up and out and into
the starkness of a good morning embrace
we wait

Border Unbound

O' that dive through pink!
eyes drawn toward the seam of the sky
never does conform
offers up new hope
each morn one wakes to face the maze
filled with dreams we gird with shadows at the midnight hour
O' they do twinkle now!
clean, brand new
visions once a sputtering fizzle
begin, at break of day, to brew

Sirens Wail

summer tornados
making love on the deck
impending doom

Hold Fast To Your Dreams

A hiss of raindrops
onto the steaming sidewalk
two children tiptoe
one hand across their mouths
the other, clutching rainbows
giggling they run
Mother Mother we caught one!
unfolding fingers
one by one they raise wide eyes
to reveal their dream come true
© 2005 (All rights reserved)

The Choka

The Choka is a traditional form of Japanese poetry that
alternates lines of 5 and 7 syllables. Unusually for Japanese
forms, the Choka can be a very long piece if so desired. The
poem is followed by a single additional line of 7 syllables,
called an envoi, which is usually a summary of the poem in a
single line. With this form, the poem is in effect an extended
Tanka, which has a 5-7-5-7-7 syllable structure. The difference
with Choka is that you can have as many alternating 5-7-5-7
lines as you like before the final 7 syllable line, but the poem
must always end with a 7 syllable line, plus the envoi of 7
syllables, so that the poem always has a couplet of two 7
syllable lines at the end.

There is no limit to number of lines as long as they follow the
5-7 syllable rule until the last three lines which would be 5-7-

Cleaning the Piano

scattering dust motes
golden melodies sparkle
from the oiled rag

Autumn Wind

it feels so strange
how I don't fit anymore
my skin
my life
split and spilled out
like a devils claw
this feels so strange
to love the chicken wire wrapped around the fence
and the blue and white chair leaned against the door
the ribbon tied around the naked branch of the hackberry
blowing in the 40 mile an hour wind makes me happy
I don't know what to call this
the scent of dust and sunshine and faded potpourri
ashes and the garbage
the faded red of an empty gasoline can becomes a roost
for a sparrow
mighty pretty for such a dull brown
the neighborhood reeks of dead leaves and middle age
the children all go elsewhere to laugh
we drink wine
with our hands curled around waterford, jelly glasses or plastic cups
whatever our fingers catch
the cupboard doors are half on and we don't care
the ceiling unmudded, undone like us
showing it's age now
the floor slants and we don't notice until strangers come over
and they so seldom do
the call of the train engine
always sounds like the Nebraska fight song
we think
and we always sit a little straighter in our chair when we hear that tune
the dog, the wind and a book feel good
pressed against the glass I look out at my garden
naked now and without green
I want to work the earth and I don't
I want to walk and I don't
I want to cry and I do
stooped over shoulders and nail bitten fingers
fat bellied and gray haired
splayed feet and love handled
work tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow and then
more of the same and words that never change
today and yesterday
it feels like fall all over again


well past 6am I study the sky
coffee beans ground and donuts frosted
now there is time to watch pink and lavender dawn
beneath the edge of night
the moon totters heavily toward the West as I sit
hands warming around a thin lipped cup
the newspaper folded neatly to my right
alone, I raise my glass and toast the break of day; sip gaze sigh


109 degrees! declares the neon sign
one of many warnings we do not heed
we fry on the
road well worn
no air conditioner but windows open to the scorching breeze
tears shed and years spent
a cart load of dents
we heave on towards dawn
to make time we don't eat
but once a day
who sold us on travel you ask
a commercial urging us to explore the US of A

Thursday, November 29, 2007

Lips Unheard

what if my breath
were a string of pearls
to your ears
gliding smoothly as a
rivers babble across
soft curried stones
would the door behind
which you reside
crack and open wide
letting me in
would you then
hear me speak
or will you remain deaf
hearing silence
watching these lips moving

I am melting

I have been longing for the candy air

That once tasted so sweet

To me

Of lilacs and cut grass and rain


I cannot turn off my brain

The clickity clack clickity clack

Wheels turning all the long night and all the dragging day

I smell smoke

And the hint of a winter killing frost

The taste of burning

Does not go away

I am melting

Like the wicked witch of OZ

Slipping lower and lower

A puddle on the floor

Anticipating the fiery sun star

To boil and then evaporate


I Just Want Sky Blue Skies

My dishwater thoughts
Are tossed upon the frozen ground
Steaming in the afternoon
And I don't care anymore
About you
Or me
Or anything
The cocoon of a monarch fails to inspire
I used to think of church windows and glory but,
That was before
Now I see the frail paper wings
Puffs of cotton really
Picture puzzle pieces scattering on breezes
As annoying really
Too many colors
Just let the sky be sky blue I say
And any way
Shouldn't they be gone by now
Hibernating or something

Wanting Warmth or Dancing Light

Do the bones of the earth

Long for quivering flesh

Once again

Aching for the solid comfort

To be wrapped in warmth

Or do they dance light and free

Embracing the coolness

Without envy

Under the dark sky

Beating the tombs as drums


When you find the sun

Tell me where I can go for

So long now I've been too cold

Deep inside ruffled curtains of frost

Just below the sharp edge of insanity

Banging at the ice to break free

My face under tinted glass with mouth gasping for breath

Words form white clouds and percolate more snow

Warmth has left me

When you find the sun

Tell me where I can go for

So long now I've been so cold

Hands pressed to the surface

Over which the feet of skaters dance

Merrily chasing figure eights

When you find out where the sun has gone

Could you bring me some


She felt as if the snow that fell
Burning her pale face
Was a sign from God (if there was one that is)
She hoped so
She told herself it had to be
Yes, a sign of some sort
The dirty gray cement and naked trees would be sporting white clean clothes soon
The ugliness of this mid season would be hidden.
Staring out the bedroom window she watched the transformation
But her heart did not lift
Because she knew the real truth
This kind of beauty was only a facade
Underneath the soft full white snow huddled thousands of dead leaves and
Car windows to be scraped
How fragile she felt
How old
Her fantasies had become guarded, for disappointment felt as if it lingered
Too long now
She ached to regain child-like innocence and wonder
When open mouthed she had laughed and tasted the snow on her tongue
Danced in the flakes beneath the street lights, breath painting clouds above
Her face lit up as she remembered who she used to be
Years ago
Before her own mid season had come


Though obscured by panes of cotton sheets
Harnessed between the ancient elms
I knew that silhouette
Mother hanging laundry in March winds
Head bent to the task
Mouth pursed about wooden clips not Marlboro
I did not help but hid and stared instead
Smelling the clean bleached day
Watching the billows of our bedding engulf her
Snapping and cracking like a whip

Subliminal Message

I wrote I love you
on the steamy bathroom mirror
your wife cleans

Welcome Home

Tromped through
Leaves churned by winds
Follow me to Nebraska
Running across streets like toddlers
Without a thought of traffic
Scooped up and tossed into the sky
Scattering to settle into
Quilt blocks of red, browns and yellows
A blanket of home sweet home to welcome
By poni


I think often of flat white fields

stretched across the Nebraska horizon

winter snow bunny covered

and then

summer coming late blooming

black eyed susans edging

leafy green jagged eared waves of corn

brown rows threaded inbetween

Good Deed

Although spent from our bike ride
we stopped at a road side stand, ate warm melon,
spat seeds between the spraddled legs of Aunt Bertie
who sold us fry bread from her cart,
and loaded peppers into her empty shed


Driving into blue violet

REM ticking softly

Through the mist of my dreams

Wisps of yesterdays



Balloons of memories rise


Leaving me


Iridescent Melody

she was a pink shell cupped to his ear
whispering soft pearls of iridescent melodies
bathing the silver haired man in the warmth of memories
she was there humming gently as he walked the lonely beach
a smile upon a weathered face at last
peace, at last
a driftwood fire sparkled and showered the night
like the fourth of July they met
he sat and listened to the voice of a wild rose
once again he kissed the bloom of her skin
caressed the bareness of her shoulder
held her tightly to him, and then
whispered goodnight
the lighthouse beacon jump roped through the air then disappeared
early rising dawn put up her glowing tresses
darkness lifted from a figure resting beside the embers of a fire
a smile upon a weathered face a shell against his ear
at peace, at peace at last

Hidden Strengths

I remember the touch of an
onionskin hand
crept into mine that night
sunken eyes peering
dry lips cracked
mouthing unspoken words
a tear slipped
stroking a wrinkled cheek
taking that hand into mine
I could see
kneading loaves of bread
stroking a loved ones hair
tending a wound
dabbing on her favorite perfume
I saw
as her children left the nest
one by one
returning only for a vist
and then
how she stroked
the smooth coffin in which her husband reposed
one last time
we held hands that night
her and I
in final prayer
and when I felt the lift of her soul
at dawns milky glow
the gentle caress of an
onionskin hand

Refresh my Soul

Daydreaming...nodding head and sigh
whispered dreams of paradise
fasten to the heavy lidded eye
Lush grasses moist with dew part for feet that wander through
Until at last amazed to see Edens Garden come to view
Pausing awestruck eyes alight on pool of clear cerulean sky
Lustrous pearl of glowing delight - grasses flowers and trees on every side
Heavy laden stocked with luscious blooms,ripened fruits and seeds
Hark - a fish jumping out the pond arching silvery back and looks as if to wink and say 'welcome to my garden. I hope you'll stay and play'
Soft the breezes blew - enough to cool the brow
Reeds did whisper near the shore a haunting soulful tune
Sandy beaches white with grains were silky smooth to feet
Hollow logs were placed in perfect line of view of sunset warmly melting yellow orange against cerulean blue
Slip into the water naked as a newborn babe
Feel the lap of water warm as toast in sun and coolly fresh in shade
Swim or float or dive in shining water sky
Rise from waters edge to feel blossom scented cooing winds kissing skin til dry
Then - starry sky will light a path through orchards lacey trees
Leading back those souls refreshed and plump with joy from new awakening


Together we have walked along the dry gutters

Where small children once floated paper boats

After the spring rain showers

Together we have crunched the leaves of the naked trees collecting there

Waiting for the kiss of the November breeze

We talked of the price of gas, the coolness of the day, and everything

Except us and the fact that we were as dry and lifeless as the curling foliage

We tromped through by the side of the road

Sometimes we walk in silence for days

A narrow wooden beam we quietly balance on

Nodding slightly as we pass one another for weeks

Then suddenly we realize that time has been vacuumed away

And the gutters are brimming with winters snow

Not the dry crispness of autumns falling leaves


November sunset comes too soon
The ancient ones become restless
Greedy for the gold and pink stripes of august nights
Craving them like candy
Their eyes glaze
Their bodies lean into the durable medical equipment of choice
Melding into a single snail pace movement
Aching bones and bewilderment etched
In deeply lined faces
They traverse to the commons room
Where Halloween puzzles have been abandoned
Half finished jack o lanterns stare up from the table winking
Confused, the elderly parade continues
Now under the wing of �that nurse�
She steers them to their appropriate rooms
Reorients as best she can
Then leaves them safely tucked under flowered quilts and velour blankets
Cursing the sunset of November nights

Home Beneath The Amtrak

the flicking of many bics
the comforting roar of the Amtrak train
lulls me into sleep
each night
the breath that escapes
between those ruby lips
pursed around the stem of the pipe
the rats are my pets
i feed them crumbs from old hamburgers
only half gone
the meat rancid at times
just needs a little more fire
to purify
i am the mole
who shrinks from the daylight rays
my face an ashen grey
turned up to the pallid day
as i search for aluminum cans
marking my time
before i escape to the underground

Just There

The chrysanthemums have yet to reach the age
Where they coat the sidewalks with their petal dust
But autumn has made her presence known
In many other ways to us
Our cheeks are scolded by the morning breeze
Then warmly stroked in the afternoon sun
Stems of sharply pointed grasses crunch beneath our feet
Broken to jagged edges by the nip of last nights frost
A hunger for the sound of leaves strolling down the street
Rumbles deep within our aching soul
Fuzzy caterpillars deplete a milk pod plant
Feeding on leaf after leaf after leaf
Fall has tweaked our senses
With her basket full of browns and reds and golds
Step outside to see and feel and smell and hear
And watch this glorious day unfold

Simple Pleasures

Deep among the dewy tops of gladioulus blooms
yellow gold dust pollen spots
stick to the buzzing bumbling bee and travel far away

Way up high amidst a grove of Springleafed Maple trees
a mama robin urges son
to fluff his wings and flap then well and leave the nest today

A muffled clap of thunder boils warning storms arriving
clouds roll in to hide the sun
lightening flashes signal bright to fishers in the bay

Laughter loud and clapping hands cheer the neighborhood
children play and run to hide
covering faces with hands and counting 'one - ten - one-hundred Okay!'

Wondrous acts of lovliness happen every day
one only has to look about
pausing to see the beauty in all we touch and see

It Was A Day In Fall

The setting sun - a flat pale disc in the western sky
Gave out a sickly glint
Outlining the weathered trees as they reached
Empty boughs begging for warm cloaks of green
Their once rich wardrobe crackling
Beneath the slapping of homeward seeking feet
A purple shadowed shawl settled about the old maples limbs
And the goldfish bobbed about like apples in the pond
Pinioned there by a thin and icy glaze
Sunset turned the sky from lavender rose to gray
A flock of honking geese envisioning a shortcut
Across the rising moon were painted - in a perfect sideways 'v'

When Moonlight Wanes

Moon rises faceless
eyes blinded to life graces tonight
Turning away wishing for day light
Always motions to go through and duties to perform
Pleasurable kisses of a warm love face cold shoulders icy thrust on this Spring midnight
but .. . What of moons silky rays of milk bathing lovers souls warm within
Why have lighted plumes of feathers flown away
What sweet madness scattered moon lit stars as far slung seeds across the milky way but turned snowy flames of lovers light to faded longing for the day
Can again the waning midnight glow be fanned to fires flaming heat and light the lovers path ethereal when might they choose to tryst a bit
Pray O' Moon delight us once again with beauty that you alone possess
With your soft and guiding hand lead us on the way with touch of loves caress

Roadside Winter

white curls by roadside
with their beauty
plumes from an exotic bird
a milky fog
during the night
enrobed tumbleweeds with a frothy sheen
as i drive south
shivering, twisting, unrelenting serpents
bar my way as the powdery snow
across the cold gray road
i go on
but want to stop
the sun will shine soon
and the rich, white robes of winter
will be gone

Garden Path Serene

simple and serene
garden paths meander rambling
scented of sweet heather
basil, sage, and thyme

green mossy stones create
a fuzzy footed walk
over which hanging grape vines cling together
forming a cool delicious canopy

singing silver wind chimes
hang from branches low
offer gentile music swinging
hammock rocking - stomach full

dreams of garden parties
attended by faerie Kings
linger in my thoughts
while resting porch swing - swings

babbling brook washes smooth the never ending stones
competing with pebble bird-bath fountain chortling
and water sprinklers moans

birds in sing and flowers in bloom
colors and sounds surround
the dappled sun peeks through the trees
and dances upon the sloping ground

a Bob Whites song heard from pastures far
prompts my to perform
I pucker up my lips and whistle
...he repeats my tune

simple and serene
my garden paths do so delight
I wonder here and wonder there
wandering everywhere
mornings noons evenings and nights

How Precious They Are

I watched my children sleep this morning
cherubic faces
sweet in repose
the pink blush of dreams
still kissing their cheeks
hair askew
their warm ears so small
when I whispered 'I love you'
into each precious one
I went from room to room
until they began to stir
thrashing the covers and mumbling
only then could I turn to go
with a smile on my lips
and a warmth in my heart
ready now to face and greet the new day

Awake. . . Asleep

I dream
on the edge of the mists of awakening
I stir
mired so deeply in the breath of my sleep
I struggle
resisting the call to arise and begin anew
I burrow
deeper into the safety of nights tranquil cloaks
I find
peace once disturbed now gone without trace
I wake
to find night long since given way to dawns break
I rise
facing the stark unblurred reality of my day
I dream

Thankful for a Reminder

the old man sat down at his table
waiting to sup on a simple fare
bread, cheese, berries and milk
he wanted no more than that
his face was softly creased and
brown as tanned leather
his hair and beard were long and white
eyes of summer sky peered out
beneath thick caterpillar brows drawn tight
his clothes were old and patched but clean
smelling of the open air
in which they were bathed and dried in
the old man had no one
he had been alone in his sturdy shack
since his dear Beloved had died many years ago
the constant banging of a loose shutter
against the window frame
was to him a constant reminder of his Love
when his wife was alive
almost every day she remarked to him
'Dear would you please fix that broken clasp on the shutter?'
and he always said 'Of course I will...first thing tomorrow!'
though he never did
and every night as they lay in bed
they judged the strength of the wind
by the banging of the shutter above their head
and now after so many years
without his Beloved to talk to
that sound was the sweet voice
of a dear old friend...
today the wind had whistled so pleasing
through the towering fir trees
and the day had been so bright
and warm and gentle to his aching knees
the old man was grateful and before he began to eat
he folded his calloused hands together in a gentle grasp
closed his summer eyes and bowed his head to pray
he thanked his God for the wind that blew
the sun that gave off such a warmth
and the noisy shutter with a broken clasp

meditations for the restless soul

Utter silence captivating
beating heart muffled
silence pulsing through veins
like golden
balm soothing butter
smoothing screaming pains away
salve for the restless soul
volume way down low
waters tuned to a faint babble
silence settles like a shawl about the shoulders
a heady scent in humid air
pressing but not oppressive
warmly protecting
encased in cotton batting
floating in a boat moonless at midnight
drifting amid clouds of quiet
cog wheels slowing to a crawl
empty as an overturned vat
spilling water drip by drip by drip
until all a puddle
evaporating then joining
peaceful clouds set adrift
utter silence muffled pulse
ultimate Bliss

Longings of the Maple

Secret desire
strip off these leaves and go bare
Summer not Winter



Foot Sore and Weary

I'm thinking about you
right now
at this very second
you are at the tip of my brain
my lips are mouthing your name
I am calling for you
from my aching heart
beseeching this pain
take me there to you
let me sit on the sandy shore
and let the wake of the sea
kiss my weary feet
I cannot travel any farther
on this jagged road
I am bleeding
I am torn from miles on foot
Let me be at rest
longing for you
but healing
slowly healing every day

Winters Sleet Turned April Rain

Our destiny
forever marred, chipped and scarred
by choices made so long ago
when Winter rains resembled sleet
icing hearts relete
Springtime thaw a distant pealing bell
ringing...ringing...ringing... muffled silent
held in Winters maw
frozen icy grip
Coldly rising flood escaping stony banks
sandbags not enough to quell the steady lava flow
What now?
Spring arrived?
Will glaciers melt?
Ice floes crack, subside?
Will new buds emerge to thrive,
growing stronger bathing in the warmth
rejuvenated after Winter sleep?
Will Winter sleet turned April rain
carry us along gentle babbling brook
caressed on either side by wildflowers passion scent?
Will Winter sleet be warded off?
Will newborn buds ensue?
Will roots once frozen soil surrounded
withstand loves hibernation yet to yield
sweet tendril shoots through hearts foundation
securing, extending, emphasizing
a Springtime love anew?

Slave To Fall

I am afraid of what may happen
Should I allow you in my life
Though I long and dream of you
To collect me in your hands so warm and soft
The leaves of my heart
They have lost the will to live and crumble
At the hint of tenderness
September and October I live everyday
For my heart belongs to fall
The blood of my body
Thrills to the timbre of your voice
Yet curdles just as quickly
Should I chance to linger too long
I cannot give chance to desire
For this a spark to a flame to a blaze
May consume the dry kindling
My heart is made up of
For I am a slave to the Autumn
My heart is suited for only this
And though the leaves of my heart
Ache and pine for the sweet breath of Spring
And the hot caress of the Summer sun
I fear the consequences
should I allow myself the taste of just one kiss

Where can IT be?

pleasing tonight with Vegas lights aglow
candles lit for pleasures untold
and wine uncorked
breathing the night air
slipping into reverie
rocking alone and thoughts tossing
as a boat in storm riddled seas
catching the waves and riding them out
wind whistling
haunting melodies
Love...listen to songs of the midnight
hear the singing
be one with me
as together we listen and wonder and long for
anything that can BE
something MUST matter
something CAN make a difference
if only the wind would blow
and sing in the trees
and the melody would just be
for you and me...
strain so hard to hear
perspiration wets the brow
for that one....sweetness
that some...thing special
despair can make the head hang so low
touching the earth and bending down
a sapling willow
whisps can satisfy only temporary longings
hefty must the REAL fullfullment be
for the lasting
for you and for me
yearning for eternity

The Only Sentiment

a menthol butt smeared with fire engine red
hissing among the scattered remains of the day;
coffee now cold, plates with cut off crusts, a deck of cards, a piece of chalk, the mail untouched
once a signal for an amorous night a candle gave a nervous flicker, narrowed it's light to faint, then expired
no glamour here
just the prime of his life
spent, he thought, while I remained unaware
so wrapped up in the day after day enigma of existence
he'd forgotten not only to watch but to live

Ten Words
- amorous
- chalk
- deck
- enigma
- faint
- glamour
- nervous
- prime
- sentiment
- watch