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IT IS THIS TIME OF YEAR

in the bowl
on the table contains
the last of this seasons fruit
laying this way and that
puckered and pruny, they go
uneaten, they wilt in silence
unable to provoke an appetite
in anyone in the house
who happens to walk by, so they
remain unattended, staying put daily
as they bear witness to a souless sun
as it listlessly tries peeking
through the window hoping
to shed some light on a situation
beyond it's control
still it is unable  to withstand
the whole day, it is this
time of year when
the sun fades quickly
seeming in retreat always, as
the stars once again
remind who is in charge

By Michael Perry
Michael Perry Sep 12
ALTERNATIVE PERFORMANCE

we pulled into the parking spot
a piece of grass under a halogen light
hanging over head
we were early or just in time to
pop open several cans of beer
to get ready for the times ahead
putting us in the mood, mellow but
not overly so, we made our way
up the stairs to the amphitheater
it was a nice night, soft breezes
sweet sour smells of *** patchouli
and perspiration wafting through the air, as we
made our way to the seats- looking forward
and all around you could feel
the anticipation build as the crowd got
ready to party the night away
the lights went down, the crowd hushed
a spot light pinned, center stage
the performer walked in, the crowd
went wild, building intensity
the performer raised his finger to his mouth
and went, SHHHHHHH- then, it went quiet, hushed
the performer went on, you
looking at all the adoring fans
yes you, are the problem, he howled, raising his
whiskey tinged voice to the rafters
I have had enough, he growled, he continued
I am not going to
give you what you want- he turned
his back to the audience
the beam of light went out, the place was left
in pitch darkness, the crowd went wild
thinking this was part of the performance, because
the performer was known for his antics
the crowd clapped and yelled thinking
there would be  more,  several minutes went by
nothing happened, we sat there, eating
our cheese steaks and drinking more beer, we
were in our own little world- soon out of
nowhere from within the darkness, someone
started singing, one and then more of the performers
songs, not as good as the performer
but still he gave it his best shot, singing a cappella
he sang song after song without stopping
to the enthusiasm of the crowd who
enjoyed the alternative show, without any
theater lights on everyone turned
their cell  phones on making thousands of pinpoints of light
reach and focus- to make everything better,  
enhanced, and in some ways it did, we never
missed the  real thing, we enjoyed the show ad hoc as it were
and gave the anonymous man in the crowd a standing
ovation after he was done, we walked away
satisfied, feeling we got our monies worth.

By Michael Perry
SEASONAL SEGUE

as with anything, a season is no different
coming to it's end, the august summer heat
subtle, stagnant, mixed with dried hay grass
partially burnt and scattered to the corners  
under a stifling, stillness, ready now, to
leave tendrils of each day more shortened
while the reds and oranges of sunset, begin to
purple like a bruise, the darkness rising, cloaked
ready to take possession of each passing day

by Michael Perry
THE FLOWER-a Haiku
a faded flower
needing water and sunshine
recovers quickly

by Michael Perry
SITTING ON THE PORCH

we are sitting side by side, in our chairs on the porch
enjoying the late afternoon, sipping sweet tea, cool
and refreshing- it was another hot day, the mosquitos
quit buzzing  once the fans began pushing the air
around it was then, i reached over for her hand, thinking
it the right compliment to end the day, she quickly
slapped my hand away, a sudden rebuff of my gesture
i tried again, and she did the same, i was taken aback
she looked at me as if i were a stranger- then went inside
i suddenly remembered something the doctor had said at one
of her last doctor visits- at some point she will not remember
even who you are, with that the triggers in my brain reacted
anew, as the night of the day took hold and swallowed me up

by Michael Perry
TO MY SON, WHO TURNED 30

you are most like me, really, sometimes
it's like looking in the mirror, we have  
the same kind of self-effacing smile, our
ability to think of everyone but ourselves
our hearts in the right place, we show it
often, others might take offense, thinking
it to be overbearing, we mean well, it's our
way, which i hope will not be your burden
if anything, to be helpful to you, so on this day
it got me thinking, of the things i wish i could
have changed about me to be better for you, like
me not being there,  when you  needed me most
school events, your ball games, i wish i could
turn back the clock, on your disappointment in me
and my nonchalance about other things being more
important than you,  i should have made the time
also i wish i told you how much i love you, as i cherish
you  now, as the person you are, and the man you
have become; yes, we say it to each other now on
the phone, because we live so far apart,  but i believe
we truly mean it when we say it , so i am writing this
so that one day, when i am gone, and you look ahead
with your own children, you will  see what it all means
everything becomes so crystal clear, your eyes open  
wide and you accept the new reality that you have
a family,  i did that at first, but lost track of space and time
thinking, there was always next time, and next, so as
you read  my words, don't take anything for granted
because you will miss out on so much- be less like me
and more like you don't hold back, cherish the moments
budget your time, ask questions, follow through, learn
from your mistakes for there is nothing wrong with
having what you want, you are honest to a fault
you wear your heart on your sleeve it's your
badge of honor, cherish it, claim it, live life
fully, follow your dreams, be happy, go where
life takes you, cherish even the tiniest of
insignificant things before they are gone
so don't be like me-old and wishing what if, be
like you, forever looking forward with never a regret

by Michael Perry
Michael Perry Jul 21
I WATCH

i watch, from my window
as the winds begin to pickup
off the bay, to rise and swirl
in clouds of dust and speck
gritty and pinging through the eaves
of this old house, forever battered
and weathered year and year
from storm after storm but still
regardless of the storm or the season
i watch, as the power lines whip and crackle
like strands of tormented licorice, as the lights
in the room, flicker off and on, i prepare
myself once more for the onslaught that is natures
way of giving everyone the *******, and still
i cant help myself, i take the abuse and i watch

by Michael Perry
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