Friday, April 26, 2013

Poem # 24 Fishing in Heaven as a painting

#25 In love, memory

I painted this one on sign.

#24 Fishing in Heaven

This is a piece I'm incorporating into a painting.

Dear Lord,
Bless the dads that take their kids fishing.

That teach them slow in a fast world...

That show them love lasts longer than success...

That gives them wonder in a world that's often cruel.

Dear Lord, please make sure you take my dad fishing in heaven.

Tuesday, April 23, 2013

Poem #23: Eating Amsterdam

She woke up on the last day
after the tour
3 days past the coffee shop.
Running through the streets
she tasted the sea
felt the nautical ropes
the careless sea saying of old:
"only dead fish go with the tide..."
she ran past canals
felt the fatal architecture.
The witty gothic austerity
bounced off the dock
into her heart.
She left her luggage.

Poem #22 : Free Easy Getaways Being Still

Free Easy Getaways Being Still


Stand. Look at shadow.
Be the shadow’s shadow.

Read. Dance in paragraphs.
Strip down to naked sentence.

Swim. Let go weight.
Fly in silver dreams.

Dream. Wear crazy coats.
Hand sew mad connections.
IMAGE: Dali | Imaginations and Objects in the Future, 1975.

Poem 21 : Tour of My Lifetime

Tour Of My Lifetime

First, let’s look at the humble ant under grass blades on the old farm.

It said – live the life of the mind.

I kinda did. I sorta didn’t.

What does a 5 year know of minds..mine fields..walking through.

Then there was the forest that burned, that I mistook for the entire world.

A bittersweet poem resulted.  Embarrassing.

See, nothing ended. Goats live there. Coyotes. Probably a hash crop.

I keep thinking it is the end.

Not yet. Not yet.

He hit me hard – in the head –

With a champagne cork.

That night baby, began the dance of my life. THAT love.

Bubbly. That dance, my blood.  Longing and desire found a soul mate.

He came back years later to be mean.

The sweet dance said, I told you so and we swam sweetly in many calms seas.

My roads less traveled are covered in the unmistakable polka dots of high heels.

What do you expect at the end of the tour

But to go back

Spend more time at the places

Where life can be drank like blood through the heart

Like a grinning saint with the golden soul of a tourist the last night in town.

Poem 20 : The Mermaid I Should Paint

The Mermaid I Need to Paint

She’s helpless you see, in a STRONG way.

She’s got heavy ruby red nipples pierced with regret.

Her sighs tie whale songs into balloon knots.

Disney shudders to imagine her.

Graceless, cursing, drunk like a fish.

More sexual than sexy, more salty than the sea.

She’d have nothing good to say of dolphins or sharks other than…

They both taste like starfish

With just the tiniest hint

Of drowning fishermen.

Poem 19: Whiskey Obsession

Whiskey Obsession


It begins with the garter, a flutter against his right cheek.

I have to imagine,

The girl is honey toned and heavy.

The light goes right through her.

She tastes on his tongue like the laughter of centuries of wicked, aimless women.

There’s a revenge for this.

A sting.

He pats her on her tight ass.

One more. Just one more.

Poem 18 : Silence of My Father

Silence of My Father


Tip toe around the volcano,

That’s ice cold hot air frozen.

Still. So. Still.

A show of strength

Turns out

To be no show.

No. Show.

At all.

But the silent, invisible shimmer of heat coming off the asphalt on a Florida late summer.

---  Poem about my Father and the way he dealt with anger. Quiet. One sentence. Then silence.  I love and miss my father.