Life provides the contours, poets provide the shading and color ~ r

Rick Richardson
All rights reserved.
Life provides the contours, poets provide the shading and color ~ r

Rick Richardson
All rights reserved.
1 day ago

When I go out at night
trying to sweep up the stars
my woman grows weary
of the cold weather in me
she thinks I am with someone
else, but it is midnight
and I am alone with the moon
that woman in a red dress
standing on the beach
but you see, it is an empty
plate with no supper, or
maybe a piece of stationery
without a lover's phone number.

Feb 14

Here I am

by the sea


from the mountains

a long ways

from loving

let the record read

I'm damned if I don't

and damned if I do

and let the moon

hide in my boot.

And damned if I know. :)
Feb 11

I listened to the iron rooster
spinning in the wind wondering
who would climb the roof
and take him in, or would he roost
with strangers in the house

It was so cold
the chicken water froze over

The women made coffee
and the men went out to the shed
to look over the tools

No one would sit in her black chair
because it was a bear
that might wake up anytime

She died in the middle of the night

The doctor said her heart blew out
like a jar of preserves

Before dawn I laid my head
on the hard couch by the cast iron
stove and heard her coming down
the stairs with her cane and her teeth
in a glass on the way to the outhouse
saying Who took my flashlight?

Feb 6

I said
Baby, I've run out of words
All the old writers took the good ones

She said
I'm sorry, suga
They're such big selfish turds...

Why don't you post that one I like
You know, of cloudless climes and starry skies..

I said,
Baby, I can't plagiarize
Especially Lord Byron
He's a famous poet

She said,
I know it, honeybun
But your old stuff's gittin' tirin'.

Creeker notes.  :)
Feb 4

Walking home
ripped I tripped
on a dead dog
half-in the ditch
hard as a log
and stinking.

I said Scoot over bro,
come morning
there won't be a spit
of difference between
you and I in the eyes
of the buzzards
and the beholders.

Creeker notes.
Jan 31

Yes, tell us
of your Trump love,
your tough love;
shout it from the rooftops
while encouraging murder
in a mosque.

Tell us how poetic you are,
you the rearguard
of fascist white power
as worshippers are showered
with bullets from above.

You want to talk about cowards,
or standing with the Sioux
at Standing Rock?

Let me hear your hypocrisy
little miss sunshine,
just one more time.

And you, the defenders
of ignorance,
can kiss my po ass
along with the dumbass
wannabe poets
who hate the truth
when it shines.

Jan 30

My problem
isn't with the philo-
sophical side,
but lies more 
in the how
and the when and
the courage

#camus   #dormant   #katz  
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