A place for poems and pics
you call me foolish
a little uncoolish
my head’s in the clouds
ignoring the crowds
my toes are a tapping
my own beat I’m clapping
I speak with a pen
don’t seek false amen
don’t need your instruction
in this little production
I’m calling my life
~~~~
just foolin’ around with poetry for
Poetics Asides April PAD and with other toads in the garden at Real Toads
In spite of your exalted status
with special pillows and
window seat you are not invited
to sit at the dinner table
We will not save you a chair
or set a place for you and
you will not be considered
a centerpiece
I wonder
if the moon dreads the sun rise
when the party’s over and
the stars take off their
dancing shoes
moonbeams pack up
their instruments until
the next gig
the silky black curtain
is lifted and
daytime sun gives a
solo performance
there is no room for a
leftover moon
I used to think luxury
was long bubble baths
with candles and music
but after children I know
that luxury is a two hour
nap time
I used to think luxury
was champagne and caviar
but after children I know
that luxury is no spilled milk
at dinner
I used to think luxury
was an elegant silk suit
but after children I know
that luxury is khaki pants
without stains
I used to think luxury
was a stroll in the moonlight
but after children I know
that luxury is shoes without mud
after a walk
I used to think luxury
was the peacefulness of silence
but after children I know
that luxury is the joyfulness of
children giggling
does the rose feel regret
that its perfume is so sweet
is the thorn remorseful
over its sting
will the rooster hang its head
in shame for waking you
can a weed excuse itself
for invading your garden
does the deer hide,
shamefaced, after eating your tomatoes
is a caterpillar contrite
for nibbling the cabbage leaves
nature does not apologize
for its wonder
and are you not, as you are
sweet, twisted, noisy, quiet
part of that wonder
with no apology autumn frost
settles on the last petunia
struggling to survive
what is this thing
that sings in the darkness
that flings itself around
my heart like a golden
ring that dulls the sting
of careless words and
spiteful acts that wings
itself around this globe
to bring us face to face
to cling together linger
in the pale light of faith
mingle with a universe
alive with promise
oh gentle dove
who mourns all day
can i not whisk
your cares away
with water fresh
and bits of grain
a sturdy box
for when it rains
what saddens you
what grieves you so
in sun and shade
through wind and snow
whisper to me
the secret kept
by doves like you
who mourned and wept
memories fall from her
family tree scattered
by a cruel wind
she tries to catch them
with outstretched
arms, to rake them into
a pile so she can jump in
to scoop them into a basket
and save them to fertilize
her failing brain
they tease her, swirling
around like smoke then
flying away beyond her grasp
she picks up the ones that
fall at her feet but they are
dry and crumbly dissolving
into dust in her frail fingers
it was no mistake
earth, moon, and sun aligned
lunar eclipse
rhymeswithbug 