*

*
Poetry is just the evidence of life. If your life is burning well, poetry is just the ash. Leonard Cohen

Thursday, September 27, 2012

Dreamboat Annies

Windswept through adolescent anomie
Trying to find a place to take root
an identity to shelter me
No clue what I wanted
only this-
Someone to want me
To be diaphanous
desirable
To be a Stevie or
a Dreamboat Annie
I listened to the music like a disciple
and though I couldn't play a note
I wanted to join the band.


my friend and I in a lame attempt to be Ann and Nancy
submitted for Imaginary Garden With Real Toads, Ella's Edge, Fashion

Wednesday, September 26, 2012

Fall To Black


"arting" by lolamouse
The summer heat has overstayed its welcome
and autumn chill is finally in the air
The gold and yellow fall down to the earth
and when I think of you, I fall to black.

October's fading light brings melancholy
Spirits resurrected from their graves
Your ghost haunts dusty corners of my memory
I see you in my dreams and fall to black.

You came to me so suddenly
You left that way as well
I try to be okay with it, but
Sometimes it's just hell.

The morning sun awakens tired limbs
but soon there will be frost upon the grass
Without a winter, there can be no spring
I close my eyes and let it fall to black.

Monday, September 24, 2012

They've Been Together

They've been together for years
They're remodeling their home
They call their dog a spoiled child

Their pain is neither Democratic nor Republican
Their fear is neither liberal nor conservative
Their tears are neither gay nor straight

Illness doesn't know politics.

submitted for Imaginary Garden With Real Toads, Sunday Mini Challenge, Sevenling

Dramaturgy

We draw the curtain on today
The scripts and props are put away
Tomorrow's lines remain uncertain
On today we draw the curtain

We move like players scene to scene
Do we remember where we've been?
Always something more to prove
Scene to scene, like players we move

The page is done; the lines are said
Make up washed and costume shed
We crave the solitude of one
The lines are said; the page is done

But you can see inside my shell
No one knows me half as well
From you I do not ache to flee
Inside my shell just you can see

With you I need not wear a mask
I set aside the actor's task
When truth can be hard to construe
I need not wear a mask with you.

submitted for Poetic Bloomings, In-Form Poet, Swap Quatrain
and Imaginary Garden With Real Toads, Open Link Monday

Tuesday, September 18, 2012

What's the Buzz?

photo by lolamouse (s. tardio)
Buzzing bees working
Covered in sun and pollen
Summer's harbingers

Monday, September 17, 2012

Thoughts For a New Year

Savor the sweetness of today's fruit
Tomorrow's fruit is yet unripe and bitter
Yesterday's is now wine
photo by lolamouse (s. tardio)




 L'Shana Tova (wishes for a good year) to everyone. It's the season of Rosh Hashanah, or the Jewish New Year. 

 submitted for Imaginary Garden With Real Toads, Sunday Challenge, Poetry for the Firefly Jar




Thursday, September 6, 2012

Die Smiling


Our bodies no longer carry children
They carry disease
dysfunction
No second glances on the street
nor
second looks in the doctor's office
We learn to become
our own admirers
our own detectives
The young ones are praised
for beauty
for bearing children
We are reviled
for wrinkles
for bearing scars
and pain
Our time has come and gone
It is unseemly to demand more
Expected to deteriorate
gracefully
and if we must die-
to die quietly,
smiling.

Monday, September 3, 2012

Summer Nights

Summer Night, Albert Bloch (1913)

The summer nights play on and on
You move like a sax solo
languid in the heat
dreamy, bluesy
Like a sleepy cat you stretch
The air wicks off notes of jasmine 
honeysuckle
into the thickness
We wait
for the ending measures of summer
with sweat in our eyes
and syncopated heartbeats
while the summer nights play on
and on.

submitted for The MagMag 133