Random Stuff

It’s Time

the smell of burning leaves says it’s time–
bring me soup spoons!
feed me a cronut
and let’s drink to that
no more hide-and-seek
[we've greased the sun] and it has gone
to recharge like a Prius plugged in at Pollo Loco

Prompt #168 at Creative Bloomings

My Poems and Stuff

Fun With Poetry

my tree
doesn’t have to
look like a tree–
that’s the rule!

in the artery place
i meet my others
and make things up
better than I know

i jump a train
escape the fog
fly higher than
golden gate’s cable

i wink and wave
am generally brave
despite the shouts, hey
what are you doing?

My Poems and Stuff

The Artist

Dad buys
A pair of football cleats
With sharp little tacks
To hold himself upright
In the steep dirt ravine
Behind his brand new house

Dad tills
The ground, rearranges
Trees and plants colors
In eye-pleasing rhythm
Until it looks– he says
Like a Thomas Kinkade

Dad builds
A gazebo with fire light
In the middle of the dogwood
Introducing bushes bright
To burn his long shadow
Before the first Kansas snow

Dad says
If there’s one thing
He wishes he could do
He wishes he could paint
Pictures –deciding (if he could)
Where to put dark and light

{For my sixty-nine year old father
who labors to make beautiful things}

Gazebo of Prayer by Thomas Kinkade

Gazebo of Prayer by Thomas Kinkade

My Poems and Stuff

Trying to Get Through This

I find myself in this space
Of post-its on the wall of
Where, when and why
/ch/ /sh/ taped to a window
Backlit by leaves which (are)
(Not is) another word for freedom

(Silent sigh) Do you hear it?
My anemic grapes hiding in
A drawer so not to break code
Repeat after me: We will hear,
Produce and tell the difference
Between sounds in English

I put Spanish subtitles on:
Este es tu problema. Feliz?
What is life? Beside this grammar
Wall,  unsharpened No. 2 pencils,
Office Depot standard pads,
Deadbeat teacher in mustard chair?