Poetry Blogs (2019, Memory)
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,
And both that mor...
Saturday 7th December 2019 12:01 pm
They reveal themselves
Saturday 16th November 2019 5:02 pm
In the hammering rain of last night
I slept the best I have all week
I slept deeper, longer
than I have done for months
And would you guess who I should meet there
on the dream stools
at the dream bar
ordering her dream gin
sliding me a dream beer
Well, you come here often
I don’t have to ask
I’ve seen you here so many nights before
but it has been a while
(and I’ve missed you)
Friday 8th November 2019 4:05 pm
There is always one sacred moment
when the night's ink black sky
allows some personal atonement
to my dull and once-blind eye:
a single white star's icy reign,
absent in the deepest dark,
until the second that my brain
is riven by its diamond spark.
That this sheer shining crystal blazed
while hidden from my careful scan
can only leave me dumb, amazed
that the min...
Saturday 10th August 2019 12:18 pm
Where once her warm and sanguine heart
fell ashen grey to rest in cold base dirt
high over the familiar bush and shrub
proud crimson blooms pine for love
Where their sacred beauty sings to my heart
they call forth the lovely nightingale
high in their cloudless summer sky
to sweetly sing their longing song
There, I too confess a secret yearning
silent hidden d...
Friday 17th May 2019 1:39 pm
Between the last customer
and morning light
in the parking lot of the Korean Gentleman's Club,
he picks lilacs for me.
Standing high against a warehouse wall,
these always bloom early, and
he goes annually, covertly, in the still dark,
unsure of welcome by the
He fills the car.
I imagine that damp, spring-scented ride home,
his fantasy of be...
Wednesday 27th March 2019 11:39 pm
Rumor has it, the story
went like this...
back in the '60s, baby Isaac
had just turned three,
waving the classified section
of a discarded newspaper
like a flag, but giggling
way too close to the heater.
That's all it takes
to turn ordinary days into tragedy.
Heater met paper;
paper, overheated, touched his shirt;
shirt mindlessly took in the flame...
Monday 11th February 2019 5:05 pm
I liked the way he looked at me
Like I was the only thing he could see
or that was worth looking at.
I liked the smile he made for me
A tailored face, specifically
to tell me what he couldn't say.
I liked the things that went unsaid
The message in the nod, the tilt of his head,
the eye contact held too long.
I liked his arms, skin brushing skin
Friday 18th January 2019 6:05 pm