Poem #24-2010

Random
randy
Tongue-tied in a hair forest
jacked off
pulled out
put away

Trespassing with permission

No man's land
a forbidden spot
pleading for abandon

There is no saving yourself
nor vindication beyond
damp pleasure

Poem #23-2010

Chickadee,
despite your omnipresent ubiquitousness
(redundancy for the redundant)
I marvel:
at your heartiness in Maine winter
at your persistent gatherings
at your fierce social order
at your voracious appetite
(for insects, but most of us don't know that)

For most watchers
thrills are reserved for the uncommon -
cardinal, grosbeak, pileated woodpecker

But I thrill to see you
I thrill to see life lived
and need no comparisons

Such only make me a warmonger

Life Lines wins Writer's Digest Award!

My friend Charlie's book, Life Lines, has won the poetry category in the 18th Annual Writer's Digest Self-Published Book Awards. That is big news! I hope you'll be persuaded to pick up a copy or two from Amazon.

Poem #22-2010

Been away awhile
Been grooving on skillet time
wavy gravy dishes
What's left
in the cupboard?
Always sumpin
even canned punkin
beats a fine-spirited emptiness
So light a candle
and dig in
Dig dig dig
There has to be one more
bite, else
fade to black

Poem #21-2010

Heat

I am warm
here, in this place
Outside, rain falls relentlessly
yet I am warm
From where comes this warmth?
My coffee?
The surfing young man seated nearby?
The fleeting thought of her vagina?
Or is it much more real than that
(and therefore much more powerful)?

Keith calls
vans without windows
“child molester vans”
Thoughts are the same:
Dangerous to self and others
when kept on a leash with
nowhere to go but in

Poem #20-2010

White Isn't Always Good

Dark soldier
suffering silently
who knows no promise
I would hear your oath,
hold it safe until your
return

It’s all nonsense
The seabreeze channel
is locked and blocked
There’s a bomb in the
flower girl’s bouquet
and in the House
we speak of peace

This poem contributed to
dVersePoets Open Link Night #9
Follow them on Twitter @dVersePoets.

Poem #19-2010

Fragments

Born in the disinfectant sunlight
fog-turning apple by-ways
– a wordslinger
Tombstone words?
Green Maine rain
Sunny Slingerland – Sonia
(college roommate fragments)
One hundred K
exactly on the nose
“Moose . . . Indian”
Thoreau said
on his deathbed
And it’s all a happy strangeness
Leftover soup
and warm whiskey to forget

It is a sin to collect so much
and hide it from others
Turn on the spigot
Let flow the teeming water

Do not fear –
it’s just a poem