#stuffing
Stale breadcrumb soaked in chicken stock
Simmered in a ceramic crock
Soon softens and absorbs
Lush butter and fresh herbs.
And all from bread as dry as chalk.
Jun 10, 2025
Jun 10, 2025 at 7:17 PM UTC
a tall masted sailboat plods its way
across the picture window, under power, moving slow, 5 minute mile,
seagulls trail behind, periodically dive bombing the roiled wake, thinking, surely, men’s finding machinery may better than their own,
we,
taking anything to make the new days poems & troubles easier
so it goes, the interplay between man and a natural world,
so it goes, finding fish, our sustenances, a dance perpetual,
so it goes, divining spirits sensing a vision, bring me music,
a spiritual so apropos that who can doubt God’s existence?
**”With the water
Sweet water, wash me down
Come on, water
Sweet water, wash me down**
**Tried my hand at the Bible
Tried my hand at prayer
But now, nothing but the water
Is gonna bring my soul to bear”^**
so the birth-day begins, sunrise poems & troubles sure to follow,
in serenity commences, perhaps a sunset bookend to match,
but in between, surely poems & troubles, all of life’s stuffing,
signs and guides, surely, at least, the day’s poem is completed...
—————————————-
^ Nothing But the Water (II)
Grace Potter and the Nocturnals
Sep 11, 2020
Sep 11, 2020 at 8:05 AM UTC
Thank you
For pushing my stuffing
Back in place
When I have one of
Those days
I would do it myself
But I can’t reach
It means more
Coming from you anyway
We will find our needle
And thread someday
Love,
Your grumpy
Brown eyed bear
Apr 21, 2020
Apr 21, 2020 at 10:47 PM UTC
There's a tear in my soul
And the stuffing's falling out
Surprised you're not surprised
I was never real
Eyes of glass
Heart of gold
My flesh is made from silicone
Imperfect, blemishes and wrong
Hands are cold
Warm as stone
I was never real
Yet I still feel alone
I need this lie
To bleed itself out
And cut through this flesh
Of silicone
Jun 25, 2019
Jun 25, 2019 at 10:18 PM UTC
Obsessively focused on black ink swimming from my pen
Keep me floating in this storm
When writing stops, this craft sinks into the frothing waves
Poseiden's domain, beckoning.
Compelled to cling, to coping that only works temporarily
For this well now springs forward only from time spent held back
Dammed up, concrete walls held strong, but defective
This flood
This Flood
THIS FLOOD
I flee, not fight, furtive failings of final flips into the film
Thin membrane, now breached and spilling
Oh god why can't I stop this?
Oh god why can't YOU stop this?
I am done.
Despite dealing with doom, with despair
How strong the maelstrom I now succumb to
Jan 17, 2019
Jan 17, 2019 at 4:58 PM UTC
Remember
How you became
When you wanted
To hurt me
The souvenirs
On my skin
Red, purple
And black
The truth is
I would have
Worn the bruises
As a jewel
Gifted by you
But not anymore
As I pulled out
All the stuffing
From inside of you
Like a rag doll
And rested you
Deep…
Down…
Dec 1, 2018
Dec 1, 2018 at 6:20 AM UTC
Spending it to make it?
Now that’s money
Consumable and hoardable
folly’s quest yet necessary evil
How much is enough?
Too little?
Too great?
Does anyone deserve it
can you earn it and be happy
or is it all together absurd?
Aug 7, 2018
Aug 7, 2018 at 10:59 AM UTC
I watch as you make a hole
in my skin
Obsessively pulling out
my stuffing
I can see the fascination in your eyes
as you keep on going
Till I am as hollow
as that teddy bear you always carried around as a kid
The one that was super skinny
because you had hugged it too tight
too often
The one you once joked
had anorexia
As I laughed
even though
I didn’t find it funny
Because I love you
as much as that teddy bear loved you
And because I know
I too will end up like a faded photograph
In an album no one ever looks at
Because everything is digital nowadays
Even memories
Dec 2, 2014
Dec 2, 2014 at 5:03 PM UTC