You say it's late
maybe too late

to save this and you add
it's a sinking ship

and that there was never
any luster

or gild on the lily
so what do I say

AHH

it's what I ask that's the real
kicker

how does a ship sink
when it's never left the bottle

whit howland © 2021

A plate of milk curds
sweetened

and served with fruit
at yours and my expense

but what is the cost
of this journey

though delectable

some say is dicey
and existential

at best

whit howland © 2021

Short and heavy
it soars through the air

or does it slide into
the lock

it's what you do to me
crossing my wires

one minute I want to fly
be free

and the next
I want to slide in and lock this

us

up forever

whit howland © 2021

A hazy day in summer
with cicadas
buzzing

we swing

on an old tire
slung over a tree branch
getting lost in an afternoon

so long ago

whit howland © 2021

Not half full
but cheap

in fact
so cheap

it wouldn't even make
a sound

when it shattered

smudges
grudges

daily drudgery

and spots
lots of spots

whit howland © 2021

The sun beats down on the street
like a rented mule

not even a stormy Monday
for me

just hot
and getting hotter

maybe I'll thank you
somewhere down the road

but right now

the sun beats down on the street
like a rented mule

whit howland © 2021

rubber souls
frayed laces
and a hole in the toe

a whiff of sock
was enough for you

get to stepping
you said

and stepping I did

whit howland © 2021

Red
and festive

yep that's me
and it is all because of you

top of the world
or

at the very least
atop a  roof

as a weathervane

whit howland © 2021

A full moon shines though
a louvered window

as I eat ice cream
over the sink

while thinking about
the many times

I've been burned when someone
has told me

IT

tastes like chicken
fried or otherwise

whit howland © 2021

A handheld bakelite
transistor radio

cream colored
the music coming through

on a small speaker
yes

that's the first time
I heard it

where is she now
does she still know who I am

sometimes goodbye
does mean forever

whit howland © 2021

fast-moving train
leaving on a jet plane

don't know
but I do

a magic afternoon
Almost Heaven

I said I'd be home
by seven

I let you down
I know

it was never
my intention

whit howland © 2021

Bubbles
run up the sides
of the polished
green glass

and another pressed record drops
as the diamond needle
scratches
across its surface

music to our ears

that if we allow it
will find its way
to our hearts and fill our heads
with delectable food for thought

whit howland © 2021

Chicken Soup
for the Soul

why

who knew the Soul
had a cold

I guess that explains
all those aches and pains

it was you it
always has been you

tugging
at my heartstrings

is if I were a violin bass
or steel guitar

whit howland © 2021

Still water runs deep
sitting here on top
of this hill

what are you
thinking

not really thinking
as much as crying
over spilled milk

whit howland © 2021

glossy
and mostly
sepia-toned

and now more
then a touch of gray
as we grow old

so much stuff
has happened along
the way

the smell of burnt hair
on a curling iron
still lingers in the hall

you sleep and snore
in the room
next door

and I'm grateful
for the two times
I got smart in our lives

plip plop
ploppitty
plop

the late
March rain
taps against our roof

whit howland © 2021

Not fit for a feast
just a functional meal

the glint lost long ago
now dull stainless steel

where refueling
is the aim

for a nameless cog
in the machine

that runs so quiet
and smoothly


whit howland © 2021

I have to strain
to remember what
your voice still sounds like

your tone your cadence

I figure
if I dig around on the dial
for a little while

it will come through
scratchy

at best

whit howland © 2021

A clown's makeup
cascading down his face
under a hot spotlight

your call so long ago
a Dear John Letter
mostly in audio

a broken vase
with its ceramic pieces
fanned out across the floor

thumbing through
a high school yearbook
and a picture of me and you

no logic no rhyme
no major scoop
to stop the presses

life
just goes on
in one eternal loop

whit howland © 2021

Let's not assume
this to be about
exposing the truth

and how the naked light
makes the roaches
scatter

we're talking about
quotidian madness
and how one can float above it

and remain detached
and simplify the confusion
and complete the task

whit howland © 2021

No bright green trees
no description of the sun

no turn of phrase about sadness
or a melancholy mood

sorry

just rude granite
and colored geegaws

that resemble outcroppings
and stones

there for you
and only you

because in the end
it always is and always will be

all

you

whit howland © 2021

I could kid myself
and say that you are in me
but really

I am just trying
to force the issue by attempting
to conjure you

as well as delay the inevitable  

waterworks the aching
sickness
and the pain

so with that said
it is time to give you
and me the much needed

punctuation
we deserve
and just

end this!

whit howland © 2021

The bristles
on my toothbrush

are ragged
and that's a fact

as well as my chipped tooth
that sometimes slices

my tongue

whit howland © 2021

red

delectable
plump

augmented with a swirl
of whip cream


and life clicks by
like a carousel

way too fast

whit howland © 2021

drops of rain on the roof
sound like the pitter-patter

of little feet

you say there's water
collecting in the backyard

and we might need a French Drain
I say baby

we made it

whit howland © 2021

Something to remind me
of you

a bottle blue
that just sits
on the kitchen counter

I never touch the stuff
it could never do the things
that you used to do to me

whit howland © 2021

What is life
but one I never
knew

without
a stray bolt
or ball bearing

rattling
around
inside my head

whit howland © 2021

This poem
is about

a rouge
blushy
flushed
sunrise

and lots
of red
lipstick

and no cigarettes left
in the last
cigarette machine

known to

woman


it's six am
and yes

I am wide
awake

whit howland © 2021

In the morning I wake
to the beginnings
of a mid to late
March day

and that morning
muted like a trumpet
is sepia with snares and cymbals
coloring

the seconds
the minutes
the hours
with an improvisational crayon


whit howland © 2021

To God
only known
we are

unknown
to everyone else

you are seeing
what  no one else
can view

thus

you now know
what he can only
know

sublime

whit howland © 2021

silver tin can
on thick

rubber wheels
frayed velvet seats

raw deal
memories

regrets
are plenty

nowhere
to go no sense

of place
or belonging

whit howland © 2021

A moon not pale
but robust

or

dare I say
voluptuous

it's still snowy
in Wintertime

through this mountain
pass

so long ago

and I'm still crying
over spilled milk

whit howland © 2021

Slithering
gummy worms

a cricket
with a bad case
of the sniffles

and not a swatch
of tissue in sight

a marvelous tin windup
robot that squawks
DANGER

so loud it'll power wash the freckles
off your face

bubbly brown-colored soda
in a sweating glass
no

not a frosty mug
that says Pepsi

COKE

because
things always go better
with Coke


whit howland © 2021

Where are we going
nowhere it seems

brown foam pouring
over the glass

a scoop of vanilla
slowly turning

to ice

as cream
mixes with soda

a rhyme without a reason
or perhaps no rhyme at all

shape form
or resolution

a treat

maybe egress
an exit

an escape?

whit howland © 2021

Bonded paper
ballpoint pen

so much to write to you
about

although

the wherefores
and the whys

still inconclusive

sorry to leave you hanging
like this

maybe someday
we'll both understand

whit howland © 2021

blue VW bug with
a tiny dent in the front fender
starting to rust

the scrapbook
on your front seat
and some canceled checks

fanned out
like a poker hand
I followed you

chased you
maybe stalked you
over hill over dale

not because
I was crazy
in a bad way

it was because
in those days
love didn't come so easily for me

until I learned
the rules of the game
those being very simple

love
is no game at all
it is serious business

whit howland © 2021

I climb in and out of you
like a jungle gym
slide down your slide
spin on your merry go round

what makes you tick

passion and intensity
is something I get

but the other part
is just so foreign to me

whit howland © 2021

something to swivel
in my mouth

to use to pick out
food for thought

lodged
between my teeth

before I whittle
it/you down to size

then sweep away
the splinters

with my tongue

whit howland © 2021

Once popping crackling
flashing

now burning down
to an orange ember

soon to be spritzed
followed by hissing

then sputtering
what just happened

we had so much
promise

whit howland © 2021

Close my eyes
let go of fear?

I fear

if I do,

I will look up above
and see

a black anvil
hanging  by a  thread

over me.

whit howland © 2021

All it took
was a March
Chicago wind

to turn you
inside out
and show you

how fragile
you really were
but not us

not you
and not us
I'm not talking

about us

no

maybe I am
about how it will
take more than

a stupid icy wind
to tear us
asunder

whit howland © 2021

just one minute
in the microwave

and watch it bubble and
sizzle

greasy

slabs of fat
and all

Lord please

let me be forever
guilty

and gladly  and
eternally

doing
my penance


whit howland © 2021

the crack that started
as a chip
is fast running
up the side

and there's a rattle
in the hub cap
like a ball bearing
going round and round

good problems
so they say

whit howland © 2021

Rainy

again
and they're calling for more


and they say
it will be this way
all week

but like every other time
I will do my best
to beat back

the blue Monday

as well as continue
to try and keep

in front of the eightball

whit howland © 2021

these fits
of cognitive dissonance

we're having

from exposure
to the snow and sun

egads

we have way too much more
to explore

about each other

whit howland © 2021

Bubbly soda
fizzing
to the top
and up over the lip

of the glass

so much poured in
and so much gushing
forth

but

why stop there
why let this just float off

into the beyond or the

ether

whit howland © 2021

Oh how you ran the bow
across my strings

how your voice
was silky smooth

and how even though
I was a fish

out of water
you convinced me

I was right where I
belonged

but you were wrong
and so was I

the fool that I will always
be

whit howland © 2021

No more test patterns
at 2 am

or TV Snow

the world
is open all night

a convenience store
for the mind

replete with chips
Ding Dongs Twinkies

and don't forget
soda pop

whit howland © 2021

One of up on high
where I look down

and people cars and other
things

seem like plastic
figurines

and all that troubled me
now distant

or shall we say far
far away

whit howland © 2021

a miss miss miss

fire

a dis dis dis

connection

snow falls and looks like
puffy fluffy cotton
on the ground

do i stststutter do i
do i have a sspppeeeech impede

impediment

ssstop stopp the the
world the world
from sppininng

I want to get off

impediment

the pipes clank
and the sink drips

in a syncopated
rhythm

whit howland © 2021

If we just start
the conversation
you have my word

that all will be
okay
one day at a time

we can and will
stitch and suture
sweep

and broom away
the broken
pieces

I swear

whit howland © 2021