Might it be blown
inside out

a stiff wind  
off a great lake

the cause of its new
shape

location identification
maybe clear

a place icy cold
urban

and the umbrella
still red

it's bright color
much needed to offset

the gray

whit howland © 2021

On the shelves they sit
this way and that

an untidy mass

some discernable
others abstract

conversations
with myself

or those
who are no longer here

cup a stein
a mug

a ballerina
folded hands

things to see things
to feed

our desire
to know more see more

metal army men
a die-cast VW Van

a dime a dozen a blessing
in disguise

a spacesuit
doll clothes

"Beware of looking for goals;
look for a way of life."

a cupie doll a shrunken
head

as someone once said

we are the things we gather
or in some cases

scatter

whit howland © 2021

Rattling
shaking
rumbling

convulsions
and unbalanced load

unbalanced



whit howland © 2021

Touching
a smudge of sky a splash
of sun

two metal halves
that'll connect as one
go

up and down
up and down

boats
barges
reflections and shadows

all pass through
for me but not
for you

whit howland © 2021

It's in their eyes
an expression

or mood

as if someone pulled on the switch
in the room or the mind

pastel baby blue

feelings over facts
abstract over concrete

whit howland © 2021

Copper
or maybe tin

on a ring like keys
to a kingdom

where life was once lived
in measured tones

and precise
rhythms

a sacrifice

whit howland © 2021

First gray clouds
then a rumble

a crash
and a flash

then torrent
after torrent of waterworks

followed by birds
chirping

sunshine
heat and steam rising

what's left to do but remove
the speck

from our own eye
so we can see clearly

to remove it from
others

whit howland © 2021

A clear blue sky
marbled with a wisp
of clouds

and the bubbles
how could we not remember
the bubbles

my tuxedo your dress
the chapel peopled with those we love
and other guests

the pictures the fountain of punch
the cake smeared
across our faces

a wise man once said
the most important thing
to remember

is not to forget

whit howland © 2021

it could be anything
shoe

or chest of drawers
just shovel in the dirt

light loamy
so there's drainage

water generously
with a hose can or pitcher

you pick

"Buy the ticket, take the ride"

"You may not control all the events that happen to you, but you can decide not to be reduced by them."

the plunge the leap
roots of caution

flash flood

washed down the street
the journey sans the pendant

learning and the trip
is a medal or medallion

unto itself

whit howland © 2021

Unexpected
not something expected

and I would add to that
unplanned

my title
and good name

are all that I have
you have

let the images
play out in your mind

whit howland © 2021

Rows of bright
red roses

violets tulips
or tomatoes turnips

and carrots
too

in brown loamy
soil

is there structure
or is it a pallet

of assorted
smudges

grays
or flash and colors

Giverny
or a Victory Garden

we are
what we cultivate

and what and who
we feed

whit howland © 2021

Bright orange
rubbery pliant
and dare I say

*******

danger Will Robinson

boundaries
hazardous conditions

the true rite of passage
is knowing where to draw the line

whit howland © 2021

white
thick over skim

not quite full
so no surface tension

in a cold sweat
I am connected

to you
I flow freely

for you with
you

whit howland © 2021

but feels like a crazy eight
with one day off

that was all that was
in the cards

and last weeks
drama

is this week's life
affirmation

it's the things we do
to clutch at straws

when we really want to use them
to slurp soda

whit howland © 2021

Baby blue
navy

bisect
or intersect?

there's
a difference

and I have to
get it right

this time
time

fleeting
or flying?

the window's
open

and in my hand
is an alarm clock

with two ringing
bells

like vibrating
mouse ears

I'm thinking I will
just sail it through

and that should
solve everything

whit howland © 2021

Sun
Summer

it is here

passive voice
and lazy days
in a hammock

as it is swinging


whit howland © 2021

True friendship takes us
by the hand
and shows us
we are not alone

on the front lawn
in tandem
they do a loose-jointed
shuffle

I never wanted anything
more in life
except to be your
everything

perched on a roof
with eyes a google
they honk
like feathered *******

remember the joy
forget all the pain
and the tears and sadness
will wash themselves away

a steady stream
from a thick rubber hose
is all it takes to blast
those geese droppings
from the dock


whit howland © 2021

We could blur the lines
of meaning

hot water beating the skin
hard or soft

steam rising clouds
on the glass

perspiration
or passion

morning ritual/routine
or Summer rain

but let's keep it simple
and start this day

with some cleaning
lay a foundation

and wash off the soot
from last night's mental

and spiritual
chimney sweeping

whit howland © 2021

deep in the mountains
a small town

the smell
of evergreen

Mainstreet
a square

a geodesic dome
undulating

on a crisp
sunny day but

was I really there
or was I lost in thought

a conversation
endless and breathless

whit howland © 2021

Keds and Converse
scrape the court
bathed in harsh light

the ball

bouncing
echoing

off the concrete

then arcing
toward the hoop
every shot now

counts

whit howland © 2021

Wry
or moreover

a sardonic smile
or eye

and it's not his

but your's
that's the joke

he merely
flicked the switch

and the glare
of the light made you run

and hide

like a roach
heading for a dusty corner

someplace
where it's dark

whit howland © 2021

We celebrate
our separation

from the mother ship
our first

independent breath
we are the seed

in pickled in animation
soon to have

dangling roots

whit howland © 2021

i sweep
the floor

i drag your valises
up to your room

I park your
cars

i avail
or profit from your loss

i am your worst nightmare
as i stamp out all existence of you

whit howland © 2021

Who can
how

can I
someone

put packets
of jelly in them

what can I do
to fill the holes

in the soles

did you try stuffing them
with the Sunday Funnies

whit howland © 2021

with an ivory handle
and so sharp

you cut like a knife
through butter

your tongue

shaving off minutes
from my life

almost
two at a time

whit howland © 2021

Will I remember this
day

ten years from
now

this lazy afternoon
where I slept late

because I was up
the night before

so much of my life
was spent

pushing the sun up
then shutting my eyes

to rise just in time
to see it bleed out

over the horizon

whit howland © 2021

as if every day
is a blood orange sunrise

sometimes we muddy the waters
just to see the silt finally settle

whit howland © 2021

Now
a faded pair
of blue jeans

that served us well
as shadows set in
and pretty soon

there'll be nothing to see
and not much to tell
other than what we can glean

by the cold light
of a glinting sharp
silvery moon

whit howland © 2021

balding head
crows feet
wisdom lines

this life my life
is light years away
as I sit on the edge of the boat

with feet on the dock
staring at it like Mars
Jupiter or maybe the moon

my mom my grandmother
and grandfather
still in tow

whit howland © 2021

Sometimes
it's just a gray

windswept day
and we do our best

to find the beauty
in the churning

roiling clouds
above

and the soggy

uneven earth
squishing

under our feet

whit howland © 2021

Every day I strive
to radiate

the power
of a thousand suns

I fight the good fight
no matter how much

my mind says
it's a losing battle

and tries to saddle me
with the yoke of self-doubt

whit howland © 2021

Quick
like quick

silver
winged feet

messenger
too fast to ****

whit howland © 2021

hung up
actually
specifically
snagged

on language
more pointedly
tangled in the use
of words

sharply

hooked
on the gears and wheels
of the mind
and how it works

words

without them
we falter
blunder
we fail

as admirals as captains
to map out our journey
to chart our voyage
our trek

to plot our course

whit howland © 2021

gray and beady-eyed
running along the base board
a morsel of cheese in it's mouth

or

is it a  plastic creature attached
to a cord
guiding you along a pixeled floor

which is it and why do we care

language
language
language

words
they mean things
significant things

whit howland © 2021

We sow it like the seeds
one would sow

if they were to grow
apple trees

but we do it to make
to make our lawns green

it seems we both want
the same thing

to run as fast as we can from barren land
and limp brown blades of grass

whit howland © 2021

We are

a silver hat,
or a silver shoe,

a still life
and one never fully realized

as we move around the board
so many times;

faces and names become
a blur.

"That was so long ago...

I barely remember yesterday"

she said.

whit howland © 2021

What is it about your shoes?

No matter how hard I try,
they never seem to fit.

Every time I attempt to be you,
I get lost

in an ocean of problems
with no solution...

Note to self:
must cancel out the noise,

and go my own way.

whit howland © 2021

You say I say
my wife

told me to stop
impersonating

a flamingo
I had to put my foot down

you see a sad face
but it's only a facade

I went shopping for some camouflage pants
but couldn't find any

the tears flow in puddles
but they are not that of a clown

why

you ask

because he already died
laughing

(rimshot)

the last time I heard that one
cars had fins

and scales

(honk honk}

I was wondering why the frisbee
kept getting bigger and bigger

and then it hit me
I keep staring at the phone

hoping you will call
and explain why you left

all those years ago

whit howland © 2021

Your eyes are the color
of old copper

brown
with a tint of light green

you are amongst many
shiny pennies in the jar

and the mirror
does not lie

whit howland © 2021

bloodless knuckles
as we grip the sides

a clanky chain
pulling us to the precipice

the drop

stomachs to our knees
and me and my brother

knowing we will never
live this day again

the memory placed
on the spindle with the rest

much like you and me
and Paris

with tearstained
napkins

whit howland © 2021

It's what it's not

your last nerve
frayed

or  your life like a baby tooth
hanging by a thread

or the train wreck or
the accident on the highway

you cannot
look away from

and it is not and never will be
staring into the abyss

with no light
at the end of the tunnel

whit howland © 2021

And with skies
the color of stainless steel
you confound me

hot

then cold then hot
again

blooming pink flowers
with snow falling and sticking
to the grass

streets now slick
with ice
and tomorrow ice

melting
in the sun

maybe

and with the skies
the color of stainless steel
you still confound me

whit howland © 2021

This melancholic music
in a twelve-bar sequence

my baby left town
and left me nothing
but my sneakers and her wedding gown

this melancholic music
in a twelve-bar sequence

my cat is scratching  at my bedroom door
I can't give her any more
than I gave her last night or before

this melancholic music
in a twelve-bar sequence

whit howland © 2021

a fleshy formless blob
pickled in plasma
under glass

I've long ago stopped wondering
where the time went
stopped

planning
dreaming
stopped

things meant to come will come
things meant to be
will be

stopped

a fleshy formless blob
pickled in plasma
under glass

whit howland © 2021

dry clean only

pigtails
in an inkwell

baptism
sacrament

see label for care

sing
"Shove it"

purify
ritual purification

use bleach
rinse and repeat

wasted on Saturday
Sunday we pray

flagellation

free from sin

the pulley squeaks
as we  take the clean clothes off the line

whit howland © 2021

We say we don't
but we do

things don't just fall from the sky
but they do

suction
the production

of a partial vacuum
by the removal of air in order to force

fluid into a vacant space
or procure adhesion

that night those things you said
where did they come from

whit howland © 2021

Without it
we are pedestrians

at a crosswalk with a redlight
that never changes

awash in petty laws
and ordinances

always afraid to risk
the tightrope of absurdity

but with it
the sky's the limit

and we can shed things
like old and tired cliches

the way we do clothes
that have long gone out of fashion

whit howland © 2021

stark

raw

naked lunch

loss

just words

they stare at me
every day

and I am still here
but you are gone

yet you are everywhere
now a conundrum

a Gordian Knot

whit howland © 2021

A wind-up
tin soldier
walks across

the table stopped
only
by a jar of marbles

some clear some
opaque
some milky white

we can't change it
but perhaps we can
sweep it up

(but not under the rug)

tomorrow
will be a very
special day

whit howland © 2021

Thick nimbus clouds
against patches of white sky

more rain maybe
but either way gray

a bright red rubber ball
rolls down the street

still slick
from last night's storm

makes me think
of Superman's boots

our yard looks like
a lake

no matter how hard I try
I can't keep the basement from flooding

whit howland © 2021