Poetry Website

with no leaves to blow
on an empty breeze
tulips bloom in May

Funny word for a head,
but yours is filled with
our early days. Late
night trips to the gas
station because there was
nothing else to do. Bad
cappuccino syrup. Strange
word for a mind, but yours
is filled with capability,
bright virtue, but also
knowledge of me on my
worst day, as well as facts
about hypothetical conflicts
and unseen problems.

Mind and soul-
the two hosts wait always
to welcome their body-
ashamed, confused and hesitated
for collocating its bare head with their own hats
but the careful body
keeps examining by turn
head to tail of a central point
appearing between the two hosts
wherein
its simple knowledge
turns into complex wisdom
to make everything quite naked
and pride and contumacy
meet with the lost shamefulness
in the illumination of a fuse bulb
hanging so far in its dark room
making even its handicapped eyes
a scanning machine
to judge the two enthusiastic hosts-
the mind
who hangs around
carrying a lazy cat on his lap
and the soul
who waits with a malnourished human baby
on his safe lap of comfort with great care.

The large print is starting to curl,
I’ve been putting it off all week.
The happy couple; bodies turned
towards each other, faces forward.

They picked out a mahoghany frame,
its not with current trends, a classic
that will age with them, keep their story
within one tenderly hung rectangle.

We used to smile like that. Now I know
where the planed wood joints meet
how the miter saw cuts. Portraits
don’t separate cleanly, they splinter

water marks tear through all the craft
of my once careful hands.

Ugh

Gone inside
Venturing out at dusk
When it’s safe
No autographs please
I’m only going out to buy eggs
Organic if you must know

The halo
is too hot

The sun
is burning righteous

The world
is on the edge

Lemmings
are marching strong

The TV
is spewing nonsense

The vibration
is out of tune

True believers
are in a frenzy

A collapse
is on the way

The sky
is filled with dark clouds

The rain
is acid laced

The minds
are calcified and stunted

The future
is sagging low

The New Age
is a pipe dream

The mirror
is full of cracks

The illusion
is staring back

Reflections
never lie

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