Our glasses (hourglasses)

I read in front of them.
I was reading anyway.
They never read.
Even behind my back.

I waited to be sure.
I was never sure
I waited too long.

Liars, thieves, and cheaters
are three of a kind.
I had them all
in hand,
and made a row of bushes
with the tangled vines
for Privacy.

Alone with ourselves
imposes ego as though
we should learn
from mistakes.

The golden rule
is soft, diamonds are forever
handed down
and the rain, perpetually
planting seeds.

The fine print, or return policy
for such a random act
sounds like wind strangled
in narrow channels
but is your paper receipt.

I figured it out
wrong but somehow came to
the correct conclusion
all the same.

There is a kind of
influence, with open palms
that holds no harm
to heat but crystallizes
in salt.

As far as
we can see,
All is in front of us,
there was no plain day
that would be lived this way.



Painting by John Dickson Batten, 'The garden of Adonis' c. 1887 in [Public domain].

Run-on sentences

Keep reading as if the book

were a bible-
Take it with you,

I plea-

You can fit in

a few new affirmations

now and then-

Other currency

is needed

to retain

value.

I beg you
to commit
to memory
the lines,
(psalms)
that will save you
from having to make
up endings.




Artwork credited by William Etty, in National Gallery of Art [CC0], Public Domain.

A jacket is a cover

When my mother told me
about the day I was born,
she said, besides being too big
and born late,
it was a dark a stormy day,
grey, wet, cold and nasty, and
dreadful as ever for February-

And since I was there but did not see,
I trust this is the truth
she saw
with me.
Although, due
to my mother
never reading, she wouldn't have known,
it was a great day
to start a new book.



Painting by Mary Cassatt, 'Sleepy Baby' c. 1910 in Public Domain, via Wikimedia Commons. 

A line meant...

Look at that desk, he said, five-hundred-page shuffle,

Don’t tell me that is the sign of busy,

Don’t give me some stupid story.

Obviously, to the untrained eye, the olio of font shapes, ink colors,

mixed mediums, led, lead, led to rushed conclusions-false starts-

See the red? I pled. This shows a state of flux.

Minus. He said, Excuses. I use that color too.

What do you do all day? Rotate sheets-scribble letters-

And he was a numbers guy, a math man, a counter of beans,

so the only way to balance

our opposing views was to speak strict geometry,

and stepping outside on  that crisp clear night I said,

See the equilateral triangle up there-look up-

Venus on the bottom right, Mars atop and the

Crescent moon? He smiled at me like the moon.

And said, I see, but what does that have to do with you,

You haven’t shown me anything new.

The next night, the same time, the book keeper asked

the book collector, Red anything today? She denied doing any further editing.

He preferred being in black himself.

There is no less of a mess on that desk. Tell me, Sweetie,

Have you gotten somewhere today? We still needed to reconcile.

So I took him back outside and told him to look up at the scalene now,

Venus sinking, the moon smirking, Mars winking wide and weak,

and asked him what does it mean?

He could not figure out the answer I was looking for,

So I helped him a bit and filled the space in with the correct operators,

Operate-hers, Calculate-hers and Compute-hers

were all aptly named for gender roles.

Without needing further proof,

he understood the expansion and rotation,

All at once he said

Read me one of your poems, Please. 

Image credit By Smithsonian Institution from United States [No restrictions], via Wikimedia Commons.

Balancing Banality

It's too early. Only 3:20.

Now I'm late, it's already 4:18. Up. Slippers, blanket, shivers me limber.

Coffee on, kitchen-sink light, electric fireplace on, computer, charge phone, let Smokey in, let Bandit out.

Log in, open tabs, feed cats, get coffee, stir, sip, must pee, wash hands-warm...

Go through stacks on desk, left to right, read, reply, read, save, share, send, read, post, drink coffee.

All done, next?

For daughter waking up, more lights on, TV, News on, make more coffee, write, watch, read.

Poetry, philosophy, physics.

Stop. Take daughter to school. Thoughts…

Kiss. Goodluck on your test! Rah, rah!

More thoughts.

Done? Home? Yes. Next.

Take shower-towel-smells moldy. Hot water hits head, goosebumps.

Get ideas-hurry, hurry, hurry!

Warm soapy shave in fast strokes, lather, rinse, rinse, rinse.

Hurry...what was it...down the drain-

Next. Clothes.

What do I want to look like today? Someone else, for sure.

Preening Takes Way Too Loooonnngg!

Done getting ready for nothing. Next?

Shoot, chores first. Head down. Sleeves up.

Laundry, dishes, straighten, sweep, trash out, beds...8:17. What's for dinner tonight?

Do crossword puzzle, drink green juice. Nourished. Done. Next.

Shoot, where was I? Who was I working on?

Learn, learn, learn. Write, write, write, there-right there

I am, somewhere

aware.

Nope, Stop. Drop it. Head Down.

Pick up daughter, lend her my ears, shoulder, back.

Stroke pretty little fragile ego. All better.

Done. Home? Already? Okay. Next.

More laundry, more dishes, check the mail, bills, bills, bills.

More coffee. Read. Write. Read.

Interruptions-water plants.Done. Next?

Dinner, studying, Jeopardy, read. Think that I should be writing.

Read in bed. Still think that I should be writing.

It's too late. Read.

Escape, wander free!

Oh! There's me-right before I sleep, a peak, the top of

higher consciousness

falls back into the deep...almost

Done for the day

until the next

thing I get to

do over and over

and over until it's all over.

Unless

I look Up and find

it's a brand new day, never

Done before...

but will I notice?

Image By Marc Stone [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons, 1939.