I'm so tired
of the mental chatter

the clutter the spatter
of spilled paint

it's a peace I seek
and order

over quiet but

nothing forced

just the structure
of natural patterns
color

and a staff of musical
notes

Whit Howland © 2020

Someone
once told me

that the law
could be pared down to  one
simple fact

there is a limited supply
of wealth and

an overabundance
of desperate souls
clawing

for that wealth

thus
the need for laws

another simple fact

the world

outside

is a sturdy
limitless canvas

and

you can paint anything
you want on it

I recommend
miles and miles

of virile savage
purple grapes


and bright orange
citrus groves

Whit Howland © 2020

despite a sky
rubbed gray
and trees being bare

we are in a February thaw

although
we didn't get here by accident

it was something we didn't wait for
but decided upon

sometimes thinking isn't
thinking at all

it's listening
and trusting the message

in concert
with the search
for the highest expression

against council
and my better judgment

I have deleted many
of my cherished poems

some I would call
my darlings

Whit Howland © 2020

I have the urge
to tweak
better yet

subvert
the dominant
paradigm

out on the open
ocean
is a boat

painted blue
like the water
which is calm
actually

it's placid

the yellow sun
reflects
off the water if

you were in that boat
you might get what is called
a blue water tan

we are happy
moreover
we are jubilant

not sad

Whit Howland © 2020

we live
and move
through

blue skies
fog
and rain

our minds
taking what's
solid

concrete

chopping
pureeing
blending

baking

an expressive
edible feast

Whit Howland © 2020

Can you see what
I hear

the more we
talk

the more anguish
comes

in torrents
as we

continue
to search for

that ever-elusive
eye

Whit Howland © 2020