True magic's not in books, but rhythm has
It's own reward. Words waiting for a song
Are no more use than rocks laid out of place
And I have no more words to tell you why
The rocks are lately misarranged or where
We left the path, how you were once a song
And I a misplaced stone, who never cared
For anything so much as hearing you.

the moon dilutes
and frights brass-warmed stars, the
crab apples of your story

fall, so let me hide you in
a box under sticky earth.
You are eyeless and unsighted;

rain falls like dog's gravel
and all these short days
are scattered and running,

the wind pushes you aside

Paint a picture for me -
Brush strokes in elephant blood
     of corrupted soil and
     toxic waterways,
     sunless air hanging over
     bombed-out orphanages -
But create with these elements
An image positive
In tone and direction
Framed by youthful vision -
Paint for me a picture
     of possibilities -
Convince me there is a way out...





- fr

They were always coming in late,
Being young.  I used to do it too.
That night I'd fallen asleep,  not
Waiting up just watching reruns
Of a stupid show from nineteen
Sixty-eight & he said downtown
Is burning.  One side of the court
Square, it turned out, which is about
All there is of downtown any
More & she went to bed,
Her mother already sleeping,
Then he and I walked up the street
Three blocks and watched the buildings burn.

Firemen sprayed water & cops watched
And we watched the cops and the fire
And the firemen, and of course they
Had been fighting again, not much
To say about it.  I'd covered
That ground before, enough to know
It was like the fire and wouldn't
Get better, so we didn't talk.
Two in the morning, town mostly
Asleep and this amazing show
Inadvertently in my backyard
And their lives changing, separately.

Friend one:
Reads "Rotten Tomatoes"
Always early, parks in a handicap zone

Friend two:
quietly disapproves
knows Friend one walked her dog a mile earlier

Friend one:
moves her car
digs out two waters, chocolate
and back pillow
buys peace and tickets

Friend two:
catches sneeze with *** of tissue
aggravated exchange:
about walking too fast ahead.
“Are you not my friend?  Walk with me!”
Buys popcorn

Friend one: 
  wants seats on the end
for handy bathroom runs

Friend two:
does not want “the blow by blow” of reasons
just not in rafters
sneezes, and says so
trips
spills popcorn on the stairs

Friend one:
Sets up “camp”

Friend two:
holds crap

Friend one:  
Settles in, builds her "nest"
opens water bottles
arranges back pillow
half-a-million napkins
“Want your jacket?”

Friend two:
holds popcorn, helps Friend one with jacket

Friend one: 
  pushes button for her seat back
seat sounds like a ****.

Friend two:
says so, both laugh like fools  
Friend two sneezes loudly, rubs her eyes
loses self in movie

Friend one:
starts to snore quietly

Friend two:
nudges her

Friend one:
(Who is never really snoozing)
runs out to restroom
misses best part of movie
Comes back,
“What happened?”
What happened?”

Friend two:
aggravated
hushes her
takes allergy pill

Friend one:
weeping at the end, watches all the credits
starts her review
apologizing to the kids of theater-cleaning-crew
popcorn, napkins, tissues everywhere

Friend two:  
Sneezes yet again

Friend one:
Knows all the stars--
of friendship

being how she is one :)

& would this or that have.made it better?

With eyes mistaking order for the truth,
Another generation
Scrubbed clean behind those eyes,
Teeth set on edge--
Should all the world be gained,
A poor exchange.
We gone these days, kingdom come again,
Dot arrives before the eye. Once more
The seeing could not convince.
You understand how
                            it is for anyone
Inconceivable
                                  to make a world
Of words
And yet
A paper-thin foundation
May be all
We have.

Have you ever seen a sunflower reaching out to the sun, following him wherever he goes?

Or an evening water lily shying away and blushing under her lovely pink at all times when the sun is in the sky?

Have you ever seen a dandelion break herself into countless little pieces and fly away to places unbeknownst, just to make herself full again?

Have you ever seen a rose, apprehensive of what might destroy him, guarding himself with numerous thorns, yet so beautiful that you can’t help but ignore his thorns?

Have you ever seen daisies growing through the cracks in the sidewalk, reminding you to look for beauty even when you can’t?

Have you ever seen flowers? Then you have seen love; for flowers are nothing, but love.

Autumn moonlight--
  a worm digs silently
    into the chestnut.

each day slips into next
much like a quarter into a vibrating bed
the novelty lasting just long enough
then a stillness of familiar support,
prone acceptance that things are
soft, hard, textured in finite ways
and your control is remote
with many channels chose
yet each similar in prospect and tone

this elastic quality to distinguish inwardness
from external extractions is appealing
as we climb on and off our routine
seeking comfort from complexities
that may end our curiosities
but for our ability to lay still,
patient, and await morning's due diligence
and night's turbulent sleep
as the quarter rattles into the box

-cec