am i ee

am i ee Jan 2016

3 am

waxing moon
high in sky
growing each night

empty roads
passing lights
cold frozen water
covering asphalt

water main break
a sign of cold winter

a fox sits off to
the side of the last street
eyes ablaze
yellow

hunting
watching
being

when will i
simply
be,

devoid of
the
mess
of
modern
civilization?

am i ee Jan 2016

untitled om

Om came in on the dog's nose

Jan 2016

Joy

funeral tunes

Stopped moving, final twitches -
****** dry -
Colorless -
Eyes still open, tongue hanging free -
"Dead as a dog" -
just cold.

No I don't want to linger on the cliche of death
But I still wonder how the life ebbs away, silently
How it unsticks itself
How the limbs, once stiff with life
Resign into the shadows
With that final sigh.

January, 2016

am i ee Jan 2016

owl hoots on this winter morn

morning coming
owl hoots

in the woods
out back in a tree

first heard
since puppyhead
died

been moving too fast
not stopping to pause

dear owl
how happy it makes
me to hear
your call

am i ee Jan 2016

i love the winter night

a few hours tucked under
Egyptian cotton white sheets
fluffy duvet
and fur coats
doubling as blankets

waking on a cold, cold
winter night
hot tea for warmth
legs tucked under

crossed in prepaation for
silent reflection
for silence

clouds obscuring the
bright stars and
moon's radiant light
of earlier

always a struggle
stay up with the night?
go to bed with the
stuffed animals?

these night's feel
desperately empty
without the soft breath
the soft snores
the soft padding of
little puppyhead

imbibed waaaaay
too much red vino
the other evening
watching Downton Abbey

drowning sorrow?
or simply quaffing
great red wine at the
pace of a thirsty being,
lapping and gulping
quickly and greedily

my guess is the latter
a bulk of drinking issues
stem from the pace of consumption

later that night,
startled awake by
uncomfortable tummy
sensations

crawled onto the deck
and hurled with
great gusto
wine and food

sweet memories flooding
this mind..
reminded of many a night
the sweet puppyheads
did the same

Ah... the sweet freedom
a good throw up brings

the goddesses and gods
taking pity upon
this suffering sad soul
reprised the moment
again later that night

crawling out onto cold
frozen wood
magnificent stars
the vast heaven above
looking down
smiling and laughing
stars twinkling with delight

hurling away
laughing at it so
in the midst,
feeling so close to
my sweet puppyheads
as i did

funny,
the little things
the quirky things
that make us laugh
that bring great
peace to our soul

what a blessing from
heaven to find myself
out in the yard
on all fours
on a gorgeous winter night
feeling so close to those
i miss so

don't ever stop laughing....
and crying....

you'll short your system out
and then you WILL have real
trouble on your hands.....

later the next day... a fox wandered up to the deck and took to eating the *****... my my what hilarious juxtapositions the divine provides... and that was one skinny little mangy fox that came calling.... i did put out some good left over meat later, not partially predigested this time....
even now peals of laughter ring out... still missing my puppyheads but now it is time to wander off ...to wander out into the night.......

Jan 2016

Walter W Hoelbling

winter sky

the lure
of the full moon’s light
in a frosty December night
is almost irresistible

it beckons to you
its pale radiance
   casts deep shadows
   full of unknown possibilities
that grow by the moment
and struggle to turn into words
   trying to grasp the cosmos
   the mystery of life

   amazing how the mere reflection
   of the sun’s brilliance
   can affect one so

it seems to ask you
to set a cool-hearted deed
make definite decisions
explore the blueprint of the universe
turn into a werewolf
dance with the dead

you look at the glimmering stars
   dotting the darkness
   left by the moon

delayed messengers
always too late

even with the speed of light
they only make us
   see the past
   mistake it for the present
   and build our future on it

the thoughts of a man staring at the sky
   in a frosty December night

deciding
to love on

* *

#life #stars #universe #meaning #moonlight #werewolfe #mystery #dead

Jan 2016

phil roberts

TO MY LONG DEAD MOTHER

How dark and long the night
Growing up in the care
Of you, my mother
Unstable and violent
With fists as fast as your hair-trigger temper
I was very young when I learned to take a punch
And fly across a room with the best of them

But you taught me to read before I started school
And you read Dickens to me for hours
Igniting my love of words and stories
But even then
The storm could crash at any time
"What a quiet, well-behaved little boy.
Isn't he shy?"

But the worst thing you ever did to me
You told a lie as big as the moon
You said that my real father, the gypsy
Was dead
When I met him, in my teens
The world lurched slightly
And never went back to normal
And the worst thing is
I was still too scared to call you a liar

By Phil Roberts

years later, my mother came to live with us when she was dying of cancer. she was a frightened little old woman and any residue hatred and anger that was left was replaced by compassion and i made my peace with her.