Wednesday, September 30, 2009

She Said to Me

At the bar, she said to me, drunkenly, "If you think this is easy, try being the Eiffel Tower....ALL THE TIME!!!!"

Poem - why do they do this

why do they do this
they don't think why

pick up the guns
their rifles are not rifles

more like branches in the hope
to keep from drowning

they kill everyone around them
not to drown

Monday, September 28, 2009

One Upon a Time

(A work in progress. I needed to start it -- then edit it.)

Once upon a time, not long ago, there was a lonely western town, without a name. It was out in Arizona, in the desert. It was on the edge of a vast wasteland of endless sand, salt, and rocks. The sun shown down, hard and bright, most every day.

One evening, when the sun was going down, in the color blue, rode into town Cowboy Blue. The people of the town saw him coming in the evening. His hat was blue. His clothes were blue. His boots were blue. And his guns were blue. When Cowboy Blue stayed at the hotel of his liking, on the edge of town, it appeared blue.

People of the town wondered what might happen. They had all heard of Cowboy Blue, who rode in Blue.

Then one day, not much later, Cowboy Green rode into the town, in the color of green. People of the town saw him coming in the late afternoon. His hat was green. His clothes were green. His boots were green. His guns were green. When Cowboy Green stayed at the boardinghouse of Miss. McNabb, on the edge of town, it appeared green.

People of the town wondered what might happen. They had all heard of Cowboy Green, who rode in Green.

Then came Cowboy Red. He arrived in the town, after the dawn, riding in red. Like the other cowboys, his hat was red, his clothes were of red, his boots were red, and his guns were red. When he stayed with Ms. Mae in the Rising Sun, the place became all of the color red.

And everyone of the town wondered who would come next, and what might happen.

Then on noon, of the next day, rode in Cowboy White. He rode in the color of blinding white. His hat was white. His clothes were of white. His boots were of white. His rifle was of pure white. It was told that Cowboy White was the fastest gunslinger in the west, save possibly one other. When Cowboy White stayed at the best hotel in town, it became as white.

On midmorning of the next day, the cowboys met in the square, under the oldest tree, a cottonwood.

“What brings you here, my brothers?” asked Cowboy White.
“Seeking.” Said Cowboy Blue.
“Tracking.” Said Cowboy Green.
“Looking.” Said Cowboy Red.
“For whom?”
“You know.” They replied.
“For Cowboy Black.”
“Yes.” They replied.
“Sometimes he comes through these places at this time of year, when autumn begins to fall.”
“Indeed.” They replied.
“Sometimes it is best to stay put and wait, and see.”
“Very well.” Was the response.

Poem - oh look another surprise gift

i think it is enough
i have today and tomorrow

in the middle i have dreams
surprising dreams

revelations about the past
the present the future

i didn't expect it
to be this way

oh look another
surprise gift

masquerading as the
happening moment now


N. Lombard Street
Oak Park

Wednesday, September 23, 2009

That Wishing Well...

What one, i' faith?

That I wish well. 'Tis pity—

What's pity?

That wishing well had not a body in't,
Which might be felt; that we, the poorer born,
Whose baser stars do shut us up in wishes,
Might with effects of them follow our friends,
And show what we alone must think, which never
Return us thanks.

fall is here

fall is here
leaves turn red and yellow

startle & start to fall
without a sound

scattered bits of color
over the whole village

slight now later
full and deep

Friday, September 11, 2009

Poem - sometimes

i cannot have you
you cannot possess me
that was our mistake

i cannot make sense to you
you cannot get through to me
no one ever does all the way

time rolls on things come & go
friends enter then depart
each in their own way


i cannot help but stand by the door
think here is where they stood
there is where they left


it is irresistible to try to scan distances
knowing it will never be seen or detected
but they are out there somewhere

Poem - and so/ innocent and perfectly fine

cat on the evening of the day
you were killed by a car

first we grieved over you
then gave you back to the earth

what was left was a smooth mound
a small one with some flowers

the blossoms of course signifying
eternal hope and joy

then on the night of the day
in dreams i saw you

and so
innocent and perfectly fine


for "Bubbles"
Toughest Cat there Ever Was

Wednesday, September 02, 2009

Poem - be free with me

be free with me
let's go

off over the oceans
silly little boat

there is the fixed star
navigate the way

most people stay
and rather pray