poetry. thoughts and more than make-believe.

Friday, April 25, 2008

warm windy violets

curtains sway
against my jewelry
fingers
sharing secrets
with warm windy songs

scattered violets
best friend dandelions 
outside the screen

wondering

if their boxes are soaked with tears

all before
cold chocolate milk makes
the school day seem
blown
in warm swish-swosh-sway

(of course) the last morning

parkbound
                 round the corner
                                   down the street
and which street do you live
(do you play clue)
looking on
p(ast).p(resent).f(uture)
running past
                         trip
                                trap
                                       trop
no horses on this block
because i forgot
                    i needed (not want) 
forgotten
                  dreamobject at home
(driving up&down street peering)

pick up
             pace
                         picante
when i realized
i was wearing black leggings 
                                      and a tiny pink bra
thinking how can i keep the girls in?

 (wanna play
hide-n-go seek
outside 
             the line
                        the box
needing out
                      here
                              there
me wondering why this bra?)

then
when afterwork colors shift
parked flowergarden cars lining 
                                                     streets
                drivers
                dayoffwork
face on
dice
never know the chance
runningdrivingchatting
stopping outpouring
                                  working men
                                                  work men
                                                                work

till finally...
i was running
by
          trying to avoid eyes
                      keeping the girls in check
when a handshake
asked me 
how are you?
you are who?
                          turning dead bolt
                                bolt pass
thinking 
stops
hardly a go
feeling warm palm prints in 
morning eyes

sleeping daylight

still sleeping
across graveyard streets
where pines whisper to 
willows to sycamores
and oaks
to the 6am sky

still sleeping
up
up
up
the stairs
where Barbies party
with nighttime friends

still sleeping
on the tracks
triptrapping thru town
listening to distance horned traffic
slowly
rushing toward town

still sleeping
up
up
up
the stairs 
where plaster cracks family photos

daylight will shutter
above
warehouse treetops
speaking short 'hello's'
passing by
'bye's'

making sense plane watching

drama
(tic)
tac
toc
music                          lllluuubbbyyeee
played
next to their
stones
graveling
eagle
          plan e
    sore
soaring past
past
pass
ps
earemembering
                                   "you are fam.i.ly, aren't you?"
shooking
shaking
my head
                                      y.e.s
thinking yes
sometimes crazypeople really do make
sense
cents


Saturday, April 19, 2008

blue sweat suit

dreamt
i was cover
e
d
in blue
(not so much baby or sky or turquoise, but
a vegi combo delux)
feathersoft sweatsuit material
h
e
a
d2toe
to
toe

silently, i laughed
gig
gle
(gigglegigglegigglegiggle)
woke
wake
up (WAKEUP SLEEPING SOUL)
till i

fluttered
pillow shifted
and thought,
when was the last time i laughed?
what a nice way to wake up...
blue sweat
sweet
suit cover

Thursday, April 17, 2008

sycamore smokes

blast sugar  
                     land      past
sycamore
tree lining                   in river rows
                                     (how did they get in her backyard)
dining
          re-aligning 
not knowing
but avoiding
church boulevards
empty 
                street signs

looking glass past
sun without glasses
(how many wrinkles crease her storybook eyes?)

i thought
whoa-horse--made it strong.

past the next breath
empty
universal moment 
in between  (in between breathing 
                               lost jack russell on the corner)

white front engines
came upon               smiling
pure                                      teeth
knowing 
               hand-hi-ing

--i laughed madly

like (your bike later)
                               she said,
where does she live?

i pointed to the house
without looking
               where 3 black coats lit
night time smokes

and i thought,
everywhere
(every
where?)

Tuesday, April 15, 2008

Walt


Tonight there was a show about Walt Whitman...on PBS--excellent stuff!!

Funny, I know I've read and written about him in the past, but I never really heartfelt understood what he was talking about.  I could compare and analyze, but didn't feel it till tonight.  I watched most of the show, but I was exhausted--oh until 12:30--and then when I couldn't fall back asleep I thought I'd get up and read some of his poetry.  I get it now--feel it and understand.  Amazing.
Maybe I'll get to catch the end of the show someday.







Friday, April 11, 2008

channel 433

sing-song-ey on the digital, can you turn it up...turn it in...turn it up???up--not down digitial dee
nightime
newage
musicounts
keeping focus
((the breath~~~~~
the prana)) inward
intheward
sitting on the 
riveroot
treeagle
rapidrinks
of afternoon sun-wind
delight((-dee the light is blinding me!!))
resting
a
lone
a
((and the eagle has flown overboard
over the rails shouting sundust
dreaming Navajo flights
fly
fly so soaring so soarfully spread your wings and fly high))
piano plays
backgroundirt
and he tried to learn 
because they thought his
hands were pianordered
guitaready
but
n
o
((n.o. spells no ))
listening to the African violets
whisper the beat


Tuesday, April 08, 2008

Monet walks to school



She talked about Monet
drawing outside
for art on Wednesday

and we walked along 5th
too brisk for shorts

I watched the empty
parking field
skimper morning light

and I wondered where my words went

ones that wrote
abstractly connecting
images with images

x with y
14 to 22

except behind clotheslines
and raintubs left for 
mourning doves

Monday, April 07, 2008

my left ear

is brimming over
fullplushy
inside
hubba-bubba
ready
pop

and so i think i will sit up all night...

Saturday, April 05, 2008

before ok--ness now

why would
braindrops
pound
patience
--
not worrying
here
there
--
but letting knowledge
in
bits
pieces
puzzled sidewalks
--
journey
--
travel
--
ok--ness in unknowing
--
not selling anyone short
--
letting things happen that started
before now

Friday, April 04, 2008

not so much sleeping...or breathing

and when
just breathing
i....n....
o....u....t....
in
outinoutinoutinout
in
in

(i am not in my sleepzone
i am a
wake
not breathing
sound
ly sleeping
but colding a stuffy nose
that is not
all
well
good
but up on the couch
drinking ginger tea
(wishing i wouldn't have forgotten chai)
not
a
sleep
but
a
wake
in
out
zone
"Happiness is only real when shared".....from Into the Wild
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