there is no timetable for grieving —
grief is a snail
it’s a shooting star
a walk around the lake
it’s eternity
or frost till bloom —
memories coursing through the heart
it lasts as many heartbeats as it takes —
sometimes all of them.
poems
Edging
winter and spring overlap at the seams—
chilly breezes and warm green dreams!
Spring blazes color
vibrant verdure lights
the springtime landscape
in blazingly brilliant greens
a fresh flourishing canvas
for parti-colored sparks
of wildly blooming things
Jovial vernal verse
Spring is the green
is the peace
is the breeze
and the blossoms
and the blues
past the buds
to the pinks
on the brink
and the warmth
and the warbles
and the weeds
all the yellows
and the bees
and the buzzing
living branches
and the grasses
and the gardens
and the growing
and the blowing
of the pollens
oh! the purples
and the chirples
of the birds
and the beauty
and the butterflies
in the skies
and the sun—
Springtime’s fun!
Summer-nap
I drifted into a summer-nap
under the hot shade of July
serenaded by a cicada lullaby
to drowsy-warm dreams
of distant thunder…
P.S. Thank you to everyone who let me know about USA Today and King Features Syndicate using this poem for their July 5th Cryptoquote.
Creeping
shorter days seem a little ominous
shadows are becoming autumn’ish
Losing count
Damnit! I binged
again II day
IV life was hard
and so I
VIII my stress away.
O why do I so of X gorge?
Since turning XL
I’ve been extra large.
All-nighter
Mockingbird lives in a tree just outside our door —
and every spring he tells songful bedtime stories
about his ardent quest to find a mockingmaiden —
his lovely talented tales start with once upon a time
then it’s nonstop plot and plagiarism all night long
with the happy ending note sometime near dawn!
Inflame
the world we abuse
roasting us like marshmallows
in a fire we lit
Waking welcome
Sun coaxes life
from the earth
with its warmth —
Grow, thrive, breathe
green things of the land
wake from your
winter’s nap and
joyously reach
for the spring —
Colors burst
into vibrant being —
fresh fireworks
on verdant stems of life
Relentless
Time doesn’t tick
it doesn’t tock —
it flows relentless
it is we who chop
its water with our oars
Can’t freakin’ sleep
insomnia is invisible
but hard as concrete
blackout poetry created from Chuck Palahniuk, Fight Club, 1996
Winter art
icicles are daggers of beauty
thrown by winter’s sunshine breath