Much
of what confused me
I see today unravel

the big ball of rubber bands
now being fileted and
the strands laid out in precise rows

in the forest
mist shrouds some trees
and tries to screen some others

but again
my eyes peel away
the cloudy layers

even though
there is a steady stream
of tears

© Whit Howland 2019

crude
but the shape
of things to come

the Seine
Notre Dame
in pencil rubbings and erasures

the mind
a potter's wheel
with clay raw and ready to be tossed

Whit Howland © 2019

life made plain
and simple

the big blue marble
flattened

with a wooden
rolling pin

and the earth now
on a cookie sheet

for all to see
eat and digest

Whit Howland © 2019

As though you were still here
I hear you
your voice
somewhere
between honey-laced tea
coffee
and burnt toast
it's almost
like we converse
in notes then
the rug
or an uptown taxi
you're gone
it's hard
but please
never let these late
night visits ever end

Whit Howland © 2019

Much like Haiku
we are to let this flow

but
when we see

browns burnt orange
blues whites and pinks

our mind dumps
this box of color

out
onto a table like puzzle pieces

then
the work begins

of the painter
and the poet

drawing connecting
and composing

as we forget
once again this simple lesson

serenity comes
when you toss your brush

and put down
your paper and  your pen

© Whit Howland 2019

purple
slatted

they compliment
the window

boxes
of purple flowers

along the side
of a wall with sealed cracks

weathered wisened
though still beautiful

the future can come
none too soon

© Whit Howland 2019

Though photo real
it's really oil and acrylic

bathed
in thin sky blue

chipped
with splintered feet

it leans
against the moss-covered stone

side of a building
with an open window

and rickety shutters
that are pinned back like ears

a potted cactus rose and fern
descend its rungs

while our eyes blink and squint
until a conclusion is reached

we are somewhere
nowhere yet everywhere

© Whit Howland 2019

I always try to remember the good stuff
but it’s hard
to block out and forget the cold

it was cold and rainy that day
hop skipping
and jumping

to keep up with you
on bridges
over canals

through alleyways
and bicycles
oh how we parried

to dodge the bicycles
and how I’ve tarried
so long

to think about and make sense
of what
it all meant

but like I said
I just try to remember
the good stuff


Whit Howland © 2019

Not heaven
we think about

but earth
turned upside down

and not tears or sadness
more like sound

and fury spouting
up from the soul


© Whit Howland 2019

your face
in abstract shades

solid features like
eyes ears and nose

fell prey
to brush and blender

transformed now
into degrees of moon glow

Whit Howland © 2019