Category: Poetry

Categories
Poetry Thirsty Thursday

Thirsty Thursday | The Heat

Is only intolerable in the city

In the country it is relished
Under the shade of friends
Oak, sycamore and cedar

(If only I could be near her)

The heat
Is only intolerable
In the skyscraped city

Though sometimes pretty
Reflecting sunlight and cloud
Against brilliant glass backdrops

The perfect selfie studio
Good cell reception
Radiating from magnetic towers

(I still smell her flowers)

In the forest it is relished,
And we see life grow,
Hiking through heavy fragrance
                      just hanging
                                          in the air
Without a care, afternoons
                                          permeated with water breaks
        we didn’t all die from
   the heat
                                          but there were other dangers

(The loss is difficult to bear)

The heat is
                 only intolerable
                                           in the city

Where it clings to and delivers
Dumpster smells, sidewalk-fried vomit
Makes that much more objectionable
The masturbation in the subway
And the skin-pressed embrace of the public transit stranger
                                                                        or do we see that anymore?

It has us hidden away in homes,
And air conditioned cafes
Appearing separate and unhappy
though we suffer sweaty swamp-ass
just the same – begging for marketers
to quench our summer-thirst,
                          cool?

(Missing mindfulness, I am the fool)

By the lakeside, the heat is relished
Finally the sun forgives bathers,
Bestowing hot sand and tanlines, 
Quick dry towels and the joy of popsicles
Everything cold is that much more enjoyed,
Pleasure derived from sticky drippings
Freezies, creamsicles, ice cream cones – 
Eleven dollar lemonade is for the city-sufferers

(Again, I would suffer her)

The heat is only intolerable in the city
without natural escape
Less those that die, burdened by
The thick, hot weight of smoggy air
Suffocating dwellers here
Folks willing to pay anything for different external conditions
Desperate to escape
                 to another’s arms, bearing summer’s dawn
    to a heat that’s loved, cherished in evening’s temperate shadow
                                               cast long over the fire pit,       as memories
                                    toasting marshmallows late into the night
Sleeping under the stars, 
                                waking in the dew

(A fire still burns for you)

A little playlist for when life gets too hot and hard to bear
Categories
Philosophy Poetry

Close Only Counts

Close doesn’t cut it
for a swing and a miss
a near hit can’t
bring the runner home

Close doesn’t count
t’ward an orange flagged fall
a slipped push kick never
nets the ball, missed point

Just out of bounds, nearly there
it’s not – kind of like a heart attack
without the big ol’ clot

A close call, one number off
never got the message ‘cross

A close shave, still breathing now,
never put me in the grave

They say, close only matters in
horseshoes and hand grenades
guess that’s why it’s easier today
to be okay with how it’s shaken out
now I see, certainly in matters of
the heart, close really
doesn’t count

Categories
Buddhism Monday Motivation Poetry

What ho!

I am utterly transformed
I can never again see with false eyes
I have abandoned many fears

Never again can I commit tyranny
unable to slay a foe without mercy
still a warrior, dedicated practiced

Once, my armor gleamed in the sun
now, it is bloodstained, tarnished with use
a hero’s pay is his next adventure

As I sit atop the lower falls, and
waking dream what now I see
remembering how this came to be

Observe not one, but many parts
not one singularity exists,
trunks turn out branches bearing leaves
which nestle insects or yield to mites
though some call it chaos mistakenly

I now see the forest for the trees
fragmented phenomena, often
incorrectly imputed as one object

How can it exist but in name?
Dependent relationships
making us dependent people,
striving for independence from
everyone but our own false self

Not anymore

Now when I feel autumn stretch her
roots into August mornings, shrinking daylight
when I feel her come in on the breeze
I know the tears that fall are but
impressions of the misdeeds long past done
just re-emerging memories unsettled in
summer’s dry heat, like dust

Now, clarity.

Lower Falls
Categories
Poetry

Curious Delusion

Am I curious again?

Let me stay in the stage of discovering

Don’t let it end

Happiest I am dancing through the maze

Don’t let it end

I’m content being lost as long as I’m left here

Don’t let it end

In Samsara’s pleasure garden, no one wishes for

the end of the line

I’m satisfied to discover new suffering

Don’t let it end

Categories
Poetry Saturday Expressions

The world tears open | Session 9

Today, the world is tearing open

Everyone I know is crying
women, men
this is what our anger becomes
when our fire runs out and
we realize what we’ve done

This is how we bare our souls
with honest feeling
in safety
why should we alone endure our gief?

In the fray, the pages rend –
this time not my hand to blame –
yet the rip reveals remembrance
that recollection cannot heal

Bearing loss, the heartache felt
heavy as a pack
carried uphill over many days
heavier now,
as if weight was added still

Sorrow, the melancholy blues
I haven’t felt you in a while
and here you are anew

We may wallow in anguish, woe —
briefly — as we fall into
the cracks
as night chases the sun away
we can wish for tomorrow’s gift:
a day that destroys our dismay

permanently. 

Categories
Love Letters Poetry Thirsty Thursday

How Now, My Lord | Letter 7

Dearest Othello,

How do I write this now? How now, my Lord, after all that’s become of us?

How do I tell you what’s become of me?

I’ve been sun-kissed and wave-licked
I’ve been rolling in the dirt
I’ve slapped a horse’s ass, cherry picked
and I’ve spit creek water to the earth

I’ve seen snakes in grass
and long thin worms, and sometimes chubby slugs
the forest yields such photographs
beetles, spiders, bugs

Moths and butterflies have pressed me
with silken, pollened wings
while no bee nor wasp has ever stung me
as the dog-day cicada sings

A cricket symphony has often put me ‘lone to sleep
under starry skies, dry eyes wake damp with dew
out here I do not care to weep – 
a tear outside was never shed, except those I shed with you

If I never loved another, Desdemona be my name
I have never touched another, yet an Othello I have made
I have never laid another, but you laid me with the blame.

Oh, poor Othello! Confused with talk
fed into ear by Iago’s mouth, untamed and tainted
with mirthful, selfish motivation, to destroy love! Revenge!

Was my mistake the one she missed?
The one where I fought back?
For though I’m fair, when I get pissed
boundaries up and eyes go black

Not so passive, lacking grace
I begged and pleaded and tempted fate
with tearful eyes and ruddy face
now there’s nothing to investigate

I’ve not strayed, and still I wait
as Desdemona would have done
had Othello spared her life and run
her story, I do speculate, and mine

Would be as one.

So though leaves have stroked my arms
And brooks have soaked my pants,
No other man has ever stirred me
Woodsy tickles come from spiders, ants

Still, the forest gets me going,
More stagged than sumac sprigs
How then I touch myself knowing
I’ve never caved to pleasure twigs

Right now, I cannot know your mind
How now, my Lord, I’m feeling blind!
So, in ignorance I must declare:

I will never sacrifice my virtue
To die upon a kiss
Know, still, I’m saved for you.

Love, Desdemona

If that the earth could teem with woman’s tears, each drop she falls would prove a crocodile.
Categories
Poetry

Womb of Time

It seems silly to confess such a vision
now, after so much time has passed

But such an image must be released

Like milk gone sour in the fridge,
flushed chunky down the john

How I would have followed you endlessly
how I’m built to follow, as a soldier
chivalrous in bruised armor, undefeated

Though appearing a king, I act a knight —
two forward and one over, L for loser
let’s invent our own games instead

How in my dreams, I submit my strength
in trusted servitude, loyal to my last breath
I am the lion that lays with the lamb

I follow you through fields, under stars, three hours
from home, flashlight in hand, owl calls on a speaker
hung from the lower branches of the pine

The air, cold and damp, presses us together
in scientific embrace and present ecstasy
end of winter love, blooming with spring

I follow you into the tent each night,
our bodies pressing squeaky air out of the mattress,
our throats downing iced coconut water, before each other

Our fingers feed furred friends before midnight,
Touch each other until dawn, pop and squeeze
tickle, tease, and cook together each morn

I follow you across the province,
each step a wish for you to accomplish your dreams
in my fantasy you have aspirations, and you name each one

Before bed each night, you whisper fairy tales to my closed eyes
All the places we’ll live and all the beings we’ll help
the examples we’ll set – no one will kill a spider again!

I follow you to a reinvented world, our happiness laid
bare and bearing only arms of peace, love
the kindness of your hand on my face,
              the warmth of your embrace

I follow you from lake to lake –
I pack dinner for us to take and barbeque
watching the sunset over rough waves
                            washed smooth in the dusk

Though the water’s cold, and I know not its depths
my hand in yours, I dive, snorkeling for the first time,
submerged skin sensations new to my airy nature

I follow you down sandy coastlines,
metal detecting or searching for pretty stones
collecting materials, like magpies, for our nest

I follow you through ups and downs, hardships and
some celebrations do offer return on investment
I like you just the way you are, in spite of anxiety

I follow you until it’s dark, and you begin to fade away
and when this imagination ends, I know you do not stay

Because it was my vision, not yours

Categories
Poetry

Frankenstein

Was I truly a monster?

Having to beg for love crumbs
is ugly

I am not a villain anymore
I don’t steal scraps

And I don’t blame you

For reanimating my heart

When I lay as a corpse on the table

My virgin lips begging for it

Stitched to a rotting head

Jolted to life by your lightning touch

Addicted, attached to your light

Poisoned, angry when left in the dark

The literature you wrote warned others

Stay away from the beast
Science went wrong with this one

So alone I wait
for my doctor to return
with a cure

Not knowing
he got lost along the way

Following lamp light into the marsh
and voices into the mist:

Don’t go home. Play with us.

Is your happiness a monster?
Did you find your truth?

Categories
Poetry

The Only Constant

Different times of day yield
different colours,

Different satisfactions of experience,
clocked shadows, dancing
patches of sun

Yet your embrace
erased such time
coloured everything bright

And our discoveries seemed to
pass us by in a now faded flash

Though the memories
cling like stickseed

Only a dull heat lingers in my womb
creator of gross images,
art and stories, sometimes still of us

All while my subtle winds
carry mournful breaths, poisoned
with attachment

All while my very subtle mind
offers peaceful release, renunciation
accepted, finally

I let you go

Categories
Poetry

Dog Man Grew Up With Cats

The dog boy grew up with cats
they told him he was a cat
spoke to him like a cat
groomed him as a cat
and even though he still became
Dog Man
this pack creature
is unceasingly drawn to felines
their foreplay familiar 
dogs something foreign and rarely
brought round for fun

Dog Man is sensitive and he longs
for a good belly rub
but kitties have dirty claws 
and would rather receive
their own scratch behind the ears
the pissing in a box thing?
not so clean – an illusion
but one puss in the box
is worth two dogs in the woods
so is spoken
so Dog Man clings
like a kitten to the curtains

Dog Man clings
and he won’t run with wolves
he barks with fear 
and he can’t let go