This morning offered another blank sheet of paper, empty as any world could bleach to, flat, two-dimensional, sharp edged… ready to fill. The wary play safe and add depth to a new day with song or an articulate paint-brush or, perhaps, just wrap their dead fish, pre-disposal. At noon, our city bustled. I bustled not,Continue reading “Wont To Go”
Tag Archives: poems
A Little Boy With Good Pitch
It is Joy who is singing, I should put away my own efforts, to listen. I can only just hear, since perfect breeze masks the song and the source is far away. Still, a note or two gets through. The filthy television knows we are paused between missile strikes for a moment and business isContinue reading “A Little Boy With Good Pitch”
Have You Eaten?
Mine is not breakfast, it is lunch and I am at the Marina. I have a sweet roll, a cup of cheap coffee and a moment to share with the geese. Winged beasts of a good size strut past, their young miming grace, feigning interest, following, doing what they must and not considering it. WasContinue reading “Have You Eaten?”
The Symphony of SortsI have a symphony, of sortsoutside.My window, openfor the whileof summer,sendsbold sounds of some small childwith brand-newlungsin here.There are birds,as in any song of nature.There are cotton clouds,busyness,intentionup and down the street.I was napping,sinful in my disregardof wakeful living,my boreddisdain.Sun with air cheers the musty corners buttoday,I am sotired.
Whom Do You Believe
Rich and endless Bob Ross blue, with dotted dumpling-shapes is ceiling, anyway, a limit over ant-farm day. The teacher’s mouth reveals how water vapour scatters light in atmosphere, makes it glow a certain colour, offers up a boundary, conceals the dark and million stars – oftentimes, the moon from me. I have seen some picturesContinue reading “Whom Do You Believe”
Horizon Is Illusion
Slap-lapping water, with a little imagination, can float the solid earth we stand upon, watching a loading boat. Hungry, an eager ferry is big enough to carry several cars, but seems a shade too small for that close-up. Fresh-painted steel appears of grander stature when the captain’s tower takes an hour, sinking at horizon, nearContinue reading “Horizon Is Illusion”
Accidents
Big water slaps two shores and the birds don’t care, one shore being as another for those who travel without documents. I am paused to wonder, how some are perfect-built for flying and splashing about, web-footed and well-oiled. The feathered creatures do not notice me nor do I see myself, though our shared water isContinue reading “Accidents”
Hello?
We are standing outside a bar that would be dingy if it weren’t so clean. This is a dim building but tidy. Inside, the floors are swept and the glassware gleams. We are waiting for a man called Henry S. Woodworth or Paisley or Brownley or some other two syllable last name. A cab slidesContinue reading “Hello?”
The Language Arts
You turn the page and find a box of fireflies. As you read, the box-lid slips askew and florescence begins, as gentle shocks that surprise, then fade, in a heartbeat rhythm, warning that a summer day is ending, that everything is temporary.
A Box of Dream
A Box of Dream There have been seven years of steady work. The tidy restaurant is busy, people come and go. We are starting to relax. Sometimes, folks buy an ice cream. Ours is not unlike a mining town. We are owned, we are antiquated, but, it is claimed, we do our business above theContinue reading “A Box of Dream”
Robert On The Air 