always  

it seems that much of my memories
are played on a scratchy
transistor radio

where music and songs
shine
despite their audio flaws

but the tough
and salted ones

exist within
some painful pieces
of geography

places where words
phrases
and sentences

dare not go

Whit Howland © 2020

The muse calls

for a painting
a poem

capturing the orange
of this sunset
slowly fading out

and the lights of fireflies

floating
and blinking
on and off

or could it be another voice

lately
I've been trying not to come

every time she blows the whistle
only I can hear

I'm not a dog folks

Whit Howland © 2020

I'll love you

if you want
our lives
can be inter-twined

no beginning
no end

and our earth will be
round

not flat

and our happiness

and our sadness

will whip up the most spectacular
storms

complete with churning
clouds

and waving sheets
of rain

that will water us

and make it grow

Whit Howland © 2020

trying
the same thing over
and over

expecting
a different result

and in this case
thinking you’ll stop

at a different station
in a different town

but who am I to say
differently

I’m definitely not
a thief

or someone to rob you
of your dreams

besides
it could possibly be

this thin strip
of crazy glue

that is holding it all
in check

Whit Howland © 2020

and it's your definition
of idle

much like that of
wrong

that troubles me

but then again
I'm a poet

so all of this becomes
dully
academic

but since I'm a poet
and I'm not being falsely
humble

I'm really that  of
the dimestore
variety

and this is something
I've struggled with
all throughout my life
and verse

the question of what
work really looks like

and who decides on meanings
of words and other things

but now I  can proudly say
I have finally found it

the confidence that is

to tell both the Devil
and God and

I love one over
the other I swear

I do I do

**** out

that's as nice
and as Christianly
as I can put it

Whit Howland © 2020

I like to think of
life

as drops of rain

and how those drops
eventually

form patterns

on the surface
of things

like window glass
and tabletops

and how events
both good

and bad
become sequential

leading to one
grand reveal

or master plan

Whit Howland © 2020