I like, you like: A poem on connection

•September 17, 2015 • Leave a Comment

I like, you like

A poem on connection

_______________________

Some people just get in my life.

I hate that. Not them; I don’t

hate anybody. But some people-

They’re nice, they can carry

a conversation; they’re confident, but

If they were dying and I could

save them by going blind

I wouldn’t. Not even color blind,

in one eye. I wouldn’t. Now,

Some people, they get in my life,

and I love it! They can’t get

close enough to suit me.

I think my loved ones can

hear me and those others

only hear themselves. Maybe.

________________

Once a man I had just met

glanced at me as I was leaving and

it took my breath away- his face,

for a moment, betrayed unconscious

dislike. It was a sharp look. He was

not aware of it, I think. We had

spoken in the same room but we did not

know each other. Dislike… it was

clear and fresh and I treasure it,

curiously, because his face

did not lie. The judgement did not

matter. He had seen me and is that

not what we want- to be seen?

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Heraclitus

•September 5, 2015 • Leave a Comment

One minute is very like another.

The river runs on. Tonight, for now,

My moon dies, and tomorrow it will rise,

But it will not be mine.

Night sets on all; the good

And the lost, and in the dark

Everything is the same.

Goodnight to the hopeless ones. I wish

You another morning. And those who

Know joy- I wish you another night.

The Sanctity of Life

•July 13, 2015 • Leave a Comment

Sanctity of life-

Muddy, laughing, joy of my heart.

Cain and Abel, strife.

Harvard and Boston and Wal-Mart.

Golden flowers grow

Through roadside old Styrafoam cups.

The things people know!

And all the dropped cigarette butts!

Paper Doll

•July 13, 2015 • Leave a Comment

“Your hands made me

and fashioned me.”

Patterned paper, clumsy markers, love.

“Life is but a vapor,”

I said, in the fire,

on accident- still

I blackened and shriveled

and the sparks took me away.

Mother Wasp

•July 13, 2015 • Leave a Comment

Forty half-paralyzed spiders

stuffed with love down a pipe

in the windchime,

to the mud nest. Baby food.

A bottle warmed in the microwave,

A drop of formula on the wrist.

“He will bruise your head

And you will bruise his heel”

There is enmity between Six- and Two-eyes,

yet the two are one of heart.

Astronomer

•June 7, 2015 • Leave a Comment

Don’t forget the end of time
In your calculations, dear.
I know that five and four make nine,
But I also know that winter’s near.
I’d stay with you and sight the moon
But dinner’s ready very soon.
You say you need my help- that’s true.
But not in the way you think you do.
I could help you find new stars-
It’s dark. I’ll guide you through the yard.

Corner Store

•June 7, 2015 • Leave a Comment

Humming lights oppress your eyes
The voice you see attracts black flies.
A tan briefcase- deerskin- uncured, still-
Makes fingers itch and teacups spill.
A face unremembered brings you dreams
Of life and death and silly things.