Friday, April 26, 2013
#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.
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
Umbrella.
Stand. Look at shadow.
Be the shadow’s shadow.
Stand. Look at shadow.
Be the shadow’s shadow.
Book.
Read. Dance in paragraphs.
Strip down to naked sentence.
Read. Dance in paragraphs.
Strip down to naked sentence.
Water.
Swim. Let go weight.
Fly in silver dreams.
Swim. Let go weight.
Fly in silver dreams.
Sleep.
Dream. Wear crazy coats.
Hand sew mad connections.
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.
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