Growth

The poet steps away from the poem(s)
but feels
the groundwater trickle
nourishing the green.




Painting By Fyodor Vasilyev (1850—1873) [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.

A certain ring

Not only is my smartphone listening
to every word

there is the Universe
(which must receive so many messages
the black box is always full)
-proof-

of echoes, ripples, whole
motes of dust
in Brownian motion
waving.

I mentioned the name as it came to me.
My daughter likes the little names
I give other peoples pets.
                    A name that starts with a B
she says to me-
Baxter
                    Baxter! The woman calls
yanking the leash,
                    C'mon, she pleads.

Of course much has changed besides
my voice, my tone, my hair, my skin,
and I need to start over-
and I need a wage
when
a dear old friend calls me out of the
grey,
to catch up, to ask a favor, to present
an opportunity.

Meanwhile, my daughter and I attend a lecture,
I worry she will be bored, get lost in the
terminology,
so I compare thee
Nobel to Oscar
at the Academies

There the man of the hour,
Professor, Author, Scientist, Poet, mentor
mentions the film industry
as an analogy

Have you ever seen a one-man show?

You know
somewhere, someone
is listening
to a podcast, to music, to poetry, to birds,
to the running water
for a sign of life.

The signal dissipates
not hitting any home.

Evidently-
the Universe reads our clouds.




 Painting by Sophie Anderson (1823-1903), 'Birdsong' in [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.

An Art a part

On PBS the show "Civilization(s)" or some such name,
chronicals the human
                                 
                                 amongst humanity.

In a sense, the dawn of man
thru the hours
to the twilight of Idols.

                                         The
                                  form of self
                            fashioned by and from
                   some self-wanting to express
                                self by making
                                  another self.

Michelangelo famously pardoned his images
(from exile on the mountain),
like Capone on Alcatraz (the Rock)

-sharpness being no more requisite of tooling
than persistence in method(ology).

I doubt they knew
                     who was waiting on the other side. The face emerges
masked in fine dust.
It is a face of surprise
that does not expect
the stranger standing
                                 before Him.

The idea came to me-I did not go to it
                                 and yet
the unexpected visitor
leads the way
                                 by blocking the wrong path-
ways, giving way
to avalanches and mudslides and this (re)arrangement
was an expression                               of liberation
                                from the body.

Water will
evaporate eventually,
the granite
breaks
down
its crystal components.

The two cannot compare

Maker and Made.



 Painting by Lovis Corinth, c. 1904 in [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.

Pride

Baby-proofing is not men wearing condoms
or women popping pills,

it is a process that involves locking
mechanisms
and elevation.

In various combinations,
I have tried both-
but now she comfortably reaches
my heights
and effortlessly spins back and forth
opening lockers with magic numbers
that are hers alone.

I have hidden all painful memories,
the sharpest points,
behind my forehead.
Too close for comfort,
she reaches my shoulders
and rest her head there.

She is drawn toward the sealed letters,
she wonders, prods, and asks
what do they  say

yet I know she will choke on the words
made not in her mother tongue.

She persists, pleading,
if you knew-why didn't you?

I don't have all the answers,
I took all the chances,
she stole glances
while I stuffed my pockets
with copper thoughts

being the safest place,
unlike the mouth
we learn the heavier our legs become,
we find memories can be-come
choking hazards.


Painting by By Waugh, Ida, d. 1919 (artist); L. Prang & Co. (publisher) (Flickr: Baby Seated) [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons.

Strong brew

'Heady' is the word used to describe a strong flavor
in a frothy beverage which elevates air bubbles
atop like a crown
posing as liquid
refreshment.

Ritual reminds us of our human places
since we have lost our short memories to
long distant goals in a wash of faces.

Denial dislodges the grey dust in the river
Lethe,
making banks
to hold all the silt.

On one side
the body wants
crossing over
the other
side, the mind seeks
an abundant place to camp,

this way,
we will never thirst
for fresher air, mineral waters
or will-power.

Currents consume us in a present sense
of temperature and surface speed
while wading and resisting the pull
to go deeper and deeper
filling the mouth and
trapping air.

It begins
to sink in.


Photo credit By Paultoff [FAL or Public domain], from Wikimedia Commons.

Phone photographers

Every-one is armed-

could you pass without shooting

to show every-one?

(I was here)

Photo credited By Frontierofficial [Public domain or CC BY 2.0], via Wikimedia Commons.

9 Lives

The cats that have made my home theirs,
the same two cats that don’t get along,
the un-partners in feline crime,
Smokey & the Bandit, ogle me-eerily
I feel this, but they
look away when I return the long glances.
And I feel fine-but there is a chance,
most likely greater than one out of nine,
that they see more than me.