A gorgeous sunrise
makes me glad for this lifetime,
strikes me stone grateful.
  Jan 10 Joel M Frye
1Woman
Tragic and tender
ends magical December
and I eat it,
the dark cherry
of a year to remember

Poignant and creamy
like a smoothie rendered,
twelve months
slides down my throat
unhindered

Bracing and blue,
a year brand-new
comes in the night
to **** my life
and I surrender

Brazen and unsentimental,
a deconstruction again
for me to blend,
seeds of dark cherry
in hard January.
Joel M Frye Dec 2018
I remember passion fondly,
sepia-toned snapshots
of vaguely familiar faces,
preposterous poses
grinning at memory's camera.
Such children we were,
bloated with self-importance
raring to be loosed
upon an unsuspecting world
     (they'll never know what hit'em).
Battered by time,
small success and major failures,
a one-sided smile
crawls up my face today
as I pray
for a fragment of that fire,
a torch
to light the rest of my days.
Joel M Frye Oct 2018
So cliche to say
"your whole future is before you"
when we are rooted
in the soul of your childhood.
Better we should wish you
safe journey, safe home
whenever you might
find your way back.
It simply can't be already....
  Oct 2018 Joel M Frye
Nat Lipstadt
a television interview, Oct. 2018  with Sir Paul McCartney

~for all of us, forever~


<•>

**** you Paul, old man
you trying to make us all look bad?
guess you’re just another
‘miner for a thousand years’
or more,
cause we haven’t seen a reason why the vein should run dry,
for the stolid earth resupplies endless old metal and the liquid veins
supply the need, the urgency of a warm gun of composition,
a drug nonpareil

and the things that provoke,
still provoke once more and again,
love and need, even memories,
petri dish cell regrown,
breathing atmospheric nutrients in the hotheaded hothouse air
of the human farm

‘tis why I paean you at 4:25am understanding full well,
better than most, for once I wrote,
it’s always the next one, that will be,
the flawless poem,
that will permit the laying down of the pen, the guitar

but even flawless is not
“good enough yet”
for all of us, forever


for “yet,”
even more than forever,

is the most unlimited word we share

~

5:02am 10/17/18
  Aug 2018 Joel M Frye
Nat Lipstadt
3 X 5 index card poems

3 smallish poems in five minutes
~
reheating

honey can I make you something to eat?

no babe, you know I hate to see you cooking, frying
standing over pots and stirring sauces
trying to brush
wisps of bangs from your eyes
  while wearing kitchen mitts


What I would prefer is something leftover,
reheated served with a smiling grin from my ear
to wayover down under there,
next to you

<•>
old words are better than than new ones

hey, hi! how you doing, old friend?

“yo, out of the hospital feeling so much better;
had some kind of ‘itis’ which they cured with an ‘yisis’!”

glad to hear; impressed by all those new big scientific words;
frankly preferred your old ones,  that were rediscovered and
reoriented in new ways in your poems verses;

me?
never better cause to hear from a man
whose optimism has yet to meet a
match
that he can’t best,


heals all our wounds

<|>

if you told me

that I could spend three successive rainy days in almost all silence, perfectly contented by myself,
i’d said you crazy,


isn’t that true babe?
Joel M Frye Jul 2018
Steady, jagged line
paves a smoother path to a
possible future.
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