"generously" poems
They have spent their
content of simpering,
holding their lips this
and that way, winding
the lines between
their brows. Old folks
allow their bellies to jiggle like slow
tamborines.
The hollers
rise up and spill
over any way they want.
When old folks laugh, they free the world.
They turn slowly, slyly knowing
the best and the worst
of remembering.
Saliva glistens in
the corners of their mouths,
their heads wobble
on brittle necks, but
their laps
are filled with memories.
When old folks laugh, they consider the promise
of dear painless death, and generously
forgive life for happening
to them.
28k
*Blue is the boulder overlooking the bay
Loosely pocked by weather-worn stains
Unwavering guardian of all that lay
Enigmatic yet silently screaming its pains
Blue is the reflection dancing playfully
Laid generously by the twilight moon
Upon the vast canvas of the darkened sea
Elated ripples readily accepting such a boon
Blue is the halo encircling the moon
Lavish circlet gifted by the sun
Unnoticed by eyes that slumbered too soon
Evading the sands of time that run
Blue is the silhouette of a lone sailboat
Lurching and bobbing by will of the waves
Unknowingly catching the zephyrs that float
Eluding the fingers from watery graves
Blue is the man; perched upon the boulder
Lapping up the stars mirrored upon the sea
Usurped heart of his had never sung drearier
Ensnared by woeful wonderment...*
that man is me...
Mar 30, 2015
Mar 30, 2015 at 10:28 AM UTC
You are my dear, decadent desert,
My summer-thyme delight; Starlight.
Tonight’s your night, for you I write.
Radiant glow, fuzzed herbal hue.
My dear butterscotch icecream.
Sore arms churn thick, slick froth - Sauterne butter.
Gentle spread melts, dowsed in sweet, sugared innocence,
rich scents, then sits.
6 years pass quickly, youthhood gone;
My black swan, a third complete.
You, sauterne butter, mix with scotch -
Fermented, demented, invented to inebriate.
Golden brew dissociates reality -
Spinny, fuzzy, dizzy, funny… gone.
Go on again, dear fawn, 6 years pass,
Pant for the water, two-thirds complete.
12 years as toll to adolescence;
Icy, creamy, dreamy, element prepared.
Scoops of soft serve mix with years past - Angsty era.
Seductive spirits, beautiful brew.
At last, my summer-thyme delight dances with rhyme.
The lime-light shines; ten and eight.
Todays the date, stuff immaturity away.
Make room for the adulthoods’ good,
Scooped generously into a bowl
Shuttled and entrapped by me,
Melting, streaming, gleaming and freezing.
You awesome angel!
My pleasure supreme -
My dear butterscotch icecream.
Apr 22, 2017
Apr 22, 2017 at 6:43 PM UTC
The feds are making headway
(generously passing out their treats!)
*while the whistle blower
and his boon companion
hit the 22nd floor*
fiscal plans
are tidily falling into place
and the suits are all busy
chasing their dimes
dancing around the spire
full of wine and cheer
(seems the demand side imbalance
has got everyone doing the same old shimmy!)
they’re all studying their bollinger bands
MACD's, and treasuries
just like the good old days
santali would say
while capitol hill is busy
with its own pleasantries;
*repatriate that currency
hold those rates
bring the boys back home!*
the affirmations are robust
and filled with glee!
conspiracy thinkers
are busy in their own back rooms
initiating the trade
and building their counter claims
as pork bellies
and soybeans
continue to soar
(looks like eddy and the margin men
are at it again!)
what happened to that bear masquerade anyways?
they really were a band of brothers
colourful clowns
with big painted smiles
ready to lead in any parade
but they met with the resistance
a horned wall
satan’s horsemen riding high
with bags hung heavy
under dark squinting eyes
are we near an end?
the undertakers will say
it's only a blink of an eye
to the thin red line
where risk takers and front men
all jump ship
debt addiction is crippling
and hell breaks loose
when entitlements are out
and towels are thrown in
there’s a center piece here
those pugnacious statesmen
with invigorating tales
have had their place
time to clip them at the limbs
and pull the punch from the bowl
(sobriety has its merits you know!)
let’s head to the commission
and throw darts to the board ~
seems the moral blueprints are fading
Nov 11, 2017
Nov 11, 2017 at 5:47 PM UTC
Like a male monkey you rises up
And thumps hard your chest-it is you and you only!
O Man! You forgets, who you are and what you are is Nature’s
She generously gives and she avariciously takes-
Just a few chances she is giving you to repent before she ruthlessly returns
She is a sharp, doubled edged sword-merciful and merciless!
Man, Humanity is not hostility: Humanity is humility!
Like Sheol that is never satisfied you want to swallow the whole world
Like death you want to take everything, big-small-you want to stomach all
Everything you want to keep to yourself, to be to your entitlements
You take and leave nothing at all for the harmless hopeless-the voiceless
Yet you easily forgets, when the angel of death calls it’s only you and your soul in burials
Your ill amassed pride, wealth and health is not with you anywhere in this your brutal trials
Man, Humanity is not gullibility: Humanity is generosity!
O man! O man! You fills the whole world with mortality
You have killed the sole essence of the soul’s endless immortality
With your undignified dishonesty, your free-will to filthy immorality
War you begins wealthy to get-war is a supernormal profiting business
Man, Humanity souls has never been subjects to severity but sanctity!
Innocent-as little as little children-you murders-they were inevitable!
Common civilians’ deaths are collateral damages-inescapable!
You forgets who you are-you are a little loaned, little you returns for judgment
Here no allies to look after your backs, no cracks to corruption kickbacks-
It is the fairest of all hearings, a ***** for a ***** it is not for a big spoon!
Man, Humanity is not ignobility: Humanity is dignity!
What you are given to govern you governs not
What you are given to take care of you pilfers all
For you and your lineages eternal legacies-the richest ever to have graced the earth!
Yet you forgets, Master a little while returns to put you to a rigorous account
And whoever much is given-that much is also expected, what will be your report?
Man, Humanity is not royalty: Humanity is loyalty!
Humanity is a community, not a sorority of individuality!
Humanity is not infidelity: Humanity is honesty
Humanity is not how wealthy: Humanity is how a loyal legacy
Humanity is not how large is your multinationals entity:
Humanity is how huge is your small heart-its hospitality
Humanity is a humble history, a saintly story!
© Kìùra Kabiri. All rights reserved.
Feb 17, 2017
Feb 17, 2017 at 1:23 AM UTC
And when you give
Give like the widow would
Quietly and thoughtfully
Wholeheartedly and consciously
Like you know the value of costly
The value of giving til you laughingly
Really hurt in your fund for a holiday.
And when you give
Keep your other hand wondering
If it's sufficiently
Not knowing if it was slight of handedly
Or open handedly
So you're tempted into giving more
Than you intended previously.
And when you give
Give hilariously
Generously
Be gutsy til angels agree
On the degree
To which you plunge
The depths of your karki jeans
And if in doubt
Just focus on the tree
And the costly sacrifice
He willingly made
For you and me.
Give like the widow would -
Like it's just between you and God
And then you'll be free.
May 2, 2017
May 2, 2017 at 5:14 PM UTC
Hunting has a noble heritage, for sure
Bringing us together, it forged a species
Keen-eyed, communicative, feared by the fierce
So who am I to begrudge you your sport?
I, too, love wide open skies, tramping over bog and fen,
I even quite like dogs!
I imagine nature might reveal herself to you
In signs jealously guarded from the armchair carnivore.
I can almost reconcile your harsh percussion
With the croak of the raven, the sloshing tide
And the chewing and mooing of cattle.
But the pheasant! For the love of God, the pheasant?
It can hardly be a battle of wits!
I've seen him as he sits, a big, red bullseye
On fences and *****
Startled by every day he survives.
How stirring can it be,
Picking off the ones the cars and lorries never got?
When you carry him home,
Better off dead,
Hang him in your garage for a week
Feeling like Henry VIII,
Cut him down, slit him open and find the crop
Stuffed not with heather shoots and beetles
But with half a pound of store-bought grain
(Generously laced with antibiotics) -
I hope the realisation creeps up
That you may as well have asserted yourself
In the hen coop,
Blasting away at befuddled poultry
And saving yourself a walk.
Nov 24, 2010
Nov 24, 2010 at 1:33 AM UTC
I was waiting for him on the escalator on one side of the road
My Heart pumped at the highest rate when all at once realized abode.
Saw him looking generously dashing riding a scooter
He was wearing a white t-shirt and jeans and his hair were messy but modish.
And here I was standing in my usual tank top and jeans,
hair tied in a messy ponytail
just then He saw me, waved And parked his vehicle near my usual bus stop
I walked to his way with my bag full of books.
We sat on the bench and started random talks about everything except what we thought about.
He then started using his phone and I was beginning to feel ignored. He on a spur of moment stopped and stared me and mentioned about our chats and phone calls
"How it started"
"How it became more Frank and comfortable"
"How good friends we became online but never met in real life" strange isn't it?
Then I told him I have to leave and the 'awkward silent moment' and he finally spoke "yeah"
We shook our hand and he refused to let me go
So I smiled and left his hand and eye contact and stood in the row
The bus started moving and I saw him standing there only, shrugging his shoulder and leaving that place.
That was my first and last with him or anyone!!
Mar 16, 2018
Mar 16, 2018 at 4:07 AM UTC
‘A festive song for thy ears’,
Sang the jovial busker;
Brimming with gratitude,
With pennies of silver
Or the coppers from well-worked hands,
The heavy gold of the rich;
Once weighed down pockets
Generously giving.
‘A festive song for thy hearts’,
Sang the jovial busker;
Playing with precision,
With clarity and care
Or the subtlety of pristine art,
The blending sound of the voice
Soothingly warming.
Feb 5, 2022
Feb 5, 2022 at 12:50 PM UTC
She whispered to me "Be good to me and I will be bad for you"
i smiled at her
generously it seemed
She blindfolded me
With scarf she has been wearing
She had her **** neck in my lips
I could feel it
The motion slowly increased
My hands were now tied
with the shirt she wore that night
She sat on me
giving me a little tease
Un buttoning the remaining
She had my mouth shut
I accepted her order
I felt dominated but
she was doing it better
I,on the other hand
Learning to catch her
That pace, that trick
She used on me to lure
How did she got it all, I wonder
every little joy she tenders
She was my first
I tried my best to hold her
I failed, she giggled
I could not see anything except for darkness
& her soul that loved me at very best
Every time she holds that thing of mine
I forgot every single dime, I paid her to be mine
Dec 20, 2014
Dec 20, 2014 at 11:24 AM UTC
My face tells me nothing. Not nothing but nothing useful,
the complications of ageing humorously but not how to avoid
injury.
Permanent injury is a now popular cliché. At this age any injury
could result in pneumonia, pain in bitterness for your peers,
your jury.
What a headache I have! And never forget injury provokes
at best only pity. Friends are merely friendly, they belong to the
majority.
They forget your name and so should you, who are you? Even you
don't know for sure. In relation to community, no change was noted in
the
registry.
Still, man's mercy, economy's ecology, there's some joy in being small,
some joy in staying strong, and keeping death before you without
perjury.
Unsafe to run the wind. A big stick might hit your head. Then
the hip and heart and head will hurt, all three. Un-
fortunately.
I like a strong wind. Dangerous to go out in. As a fire or flood.
I like the way we are at risk, not a risk-averse weasel. A carnivore,
very hungry.
Pay money, take chances. Yo's an elegant contraction of you.
Cool. Message from street to board: mongrels rule. Democracy or
tyranny.
Scared to die? Why? Take appropriate measures, descend through
meditation. Be empty, rest. And to your friends and sons be as
gravity.
Tired of death. It's what it is. Let's play sports, have *** kayak
to the huckleberries, fish for marvelous fish, live a wonderful life, give
generously.
Done blowing, O wild wind? Not yet? So be it. I lay my head
in your felt hands. The motion of the branches, evolutionary branches,
are my
guarantee.
That's all folks, 7:30. The sky is clear, the crows are out. The clouds
are with my mood commensurate. I should shout, having lived
prodigiously.
Aug 11, 2015
Aug 11, 2015 at 10:38 AM UTC
The bar behind the theatre was nearly empty apart from a couple of gay boys.
Well, it was a gay bar, so no ******* surprise there.
I glanced at the fat one and decided, 'No thank you very much,'
as I have noticed fat people often smell unpleasantly,
maybe it's the sweat trapped between their ********** that does it.
But the other one was very cute and I decided I would have him.
In those days, it was regarded as 'de rigeur' to buy a lad a lager and lime
before dragging him home with you for some nookie,
so I coughed up for a half pint with charm and grace.
Sadly, he was no great shakes in the conversational stakes,
but was I after intellectual stimulation? No, I ******* wasn't.
Anyway, once I'd checked his passport to ensure he was over-age
(no one wants any ******* trouble from the bigoted morality squad)
I dragged him back to my elegant bachelor orgy-pad
and stripped him off to investigate his lithe little body;
a nice smooth little **** and a reasonably clean ****
What more can you want from a one night stand?
After a bit of a damp snog and a good old *****
I lubed him up and gave his *** a right good poking.
He moaned a bit, but then who wouldn't moan,
with seven and a half inches of thick gristle shoved
all the way up their sphincter? I know I would.
After I had filled his rear end with love juice a couple of times,
I felt that kicking out was the name of the game.
Generously, I gave him a half-crown for his bus fare
as he said he was a bit short of cash, being unemployed.
It was the least I could do, as he had three miles to go home,
and it was raining cats and ******* dogs outside.
After he'd left, I checked out the bed sheets (as you would)
and was irritated to find a few skidmarks there,
or they may have been where I wiped my fingers
after having eaten a bar of Cadbury's Dairy Milk.
A quick sniff confirmed my worst suspicions though.
'Ah well, true love always comes at a price', I reflected,
as I scraped the worst bits off with a nail file.
May 1, 2015
May 1, 2015 at 11:49 AM UTC
His ***********
Purloined my desire
Stole, requested expectations
My boyhood kidnapped and
Fed secrets for other
Purposes
Blue eyes, pieces of
An unsolved jig-saw
Slotted into my need
Such theft, such theft
Such theft, such theft
So generously given.
Mar 1, 2012
Mar 1, 2012 at 3:12 PM UTC
There is a certain sadness
found deep within happiness.
Although happiness is the best to be,
there are a few downfalls to it once it's been discovered.
To be truly happy,
you have to feel the pain of sadness first.
You eventually get use to this feeling,
you develop an attachment to it.
Once you discover happiness,
the attachment is not easily broken.
It's not impossible to break,
but it is quite difficult.
First you might struggle with your daily routine.
You have to learn how to wake up smiling,
thinking of the day as a new day
instead of just another day to fight through.
Then those songs you've always related to,
become so pointless and you can't relate.
There lyrics are now just words.
They are now just remnants of your past.
After awhile,
you begin to change into someone new.
But don't let this destroy your positive state of mind.
Change isn't always so bad.
That attachment will eventually fade into oblivion.
The happiness you feel will fill it's spot more generously.
It will remind you that even when we become attached to negativity,
there's always a positive alternative waiting to be discovered.
Apr 24, 2014
Apr 24, 2014 at 4:37 PM UTC
Sweet, smooth, bright-green beauty,
Chunks of chocolate perfection
Generously swept through the soft swirls.
An ******** minty dessert.
Jun 21, 2010
Jun 21, 2010 at 7:16 PM UTC
We give thanks for all who have
enriched our lives with their presence;
may we honor them
by always being present for others.
We give thanks for those who
selflessly serve in our armed forces,
for the quiet sacrifices
of their family and friends
and for those who witness for peace
and work to end the conflicts of war.
We are thankful for the tears of the poor
and their example of fortitude
in the daily struggle to live
and for those that extend a hand
and offer a vision of hope
and a pathway to advancement.
We are thankful for our rich abundance
and the blessed spirit that leads us
to generously share it with others.
We are thankful for wise thoughtful teachers
and students that are eager
to use that wisdom to better the world.
We are thankful for courageous truth tellers
and the hard truths they speak
and to people of good will that are open
and willing to listen and act on those truths.
We are thankful for the care givers
and their veneration of life
and to those who receive care
and fill the heart of the giver
with fathomless gratitude.
We are thankful for people
of humility and good will
and their blessed example
of quiet service and grace.
We are thankful for children
as an embodiment of our hopes
and the future flowering
of our greatest aspirations.
We are thankful for
our animal friends
and their example
of trusted companionship
and unconditional love.
We are thankful for sobriety
and our ability to discern,
see, discover and experience
the daily grace life confers upon us.
We are thankful for those
who are no longer with us,
may our time on earth be
a blessing to others
as they were to us.
We are thankful to
a higher power
that keeps us right sized,
humble and grateful for
one more day on life's path.
Selah
Wishing All the Beloved
a Happy Thanksgiving
Peace and Prayers
Music Selection:
Shirley Horn, Here's To Life
Oakland
11/25/09
jbm
Nov 27, 2013
Nov 27, 2013 at 2:23 PM UTC
*Spread love like an infectious disease,
To rid malice, strife and negativity with ease,
Let your light shine like the summers rays,
Embracing your fellow man creating better days,
For starters pay it forward without acknowledgement or compensation,
Spread this germ generously and watch the loving mutation.*
Love Wins…..
Dec 6, 2016
Dec 6, 2016 at 10:02 AM UTC
If this is your definition of a nightmare, then please don’t wake up
If you were to offer a trade, I would generously decline
I’ll keep the cryptic terrors encased in my mind
And if you declare that life isn’t fair
What isn’t fair is being trapped inside my own cage
Leave me to deal with these chaotic demons
The ones I suppress for your sake
I wouldn’t dare release them
For the fear of losing you is all too great
Nov 2, 2014
Nov 2, 2014 at 7:47 PM UTC
Lost, yet found. The birth of her image evolves into a smile.
Generously pouring herself into my soul.
Where she dances to the rhythm of my heart,
composing every beat with her natural style.
As the kindness of her soul glows with each breath she takes,
all that is left: I am but a witness.
A witness to…. what she breathes, to what lies beneath,
a compassionate, warm-loving, blessed and able heart.
One that most dream about, some talk about and few meet.
Her thumping heart breathes into the lives around her, filling the air with joy and truth.
Sep 6, 2016
Sep 6, 2016 at 9:10 PM UTC
Sa kasaysayan ng aking bukas na pagkamulat
Hindi lamang kaalamang pang-ibabaw kundi pati panloob nami’y binulabog
Hindi lang hinayaang sumakay sa bangka kundi pati pagsagwa’y itinuro
Binuksan ang inaakalang hindi na mahihigilap o matatagpuan man
Pero higit pang liwanag ang iyong ipinadama, at ipinahamon sa dilim na nagtuturo
Binusog mo kami ng kasaganaang higit pa sa inaasahan
Sa yakap ng pag-irog, pang-unawa at pagtuklas
Pamilyang naging karamay sa bawat hirap, gutom at pagsubok
Tunay na tahanan ng mga propeta, tunay na naging huwaran sa aming kalagitnaan
Hinubog mo kami ng may pagkakakilanlan buhat sa aming pagkakaiba’t iba
Kinalampag mo hindi lamang ang aming tenga, bibig at mata
Ngunit buong pandama nami’y iyong ginigising
Pati ang kaibuturan ng aming mga laman at buto
Inilubog kami sa karanasang nakakapagpabago
Upang konkretong sumaksi na may tapang at dangal
At dahil dito, sama-sama’t magkaagapay tayong kumikilos
Nakikiisa sa tanging layon ng Kristong sinusundan
Ang bukal ng kasaganaan at kahulugan ng buhay
Patuloy na bibigyang kulay at padadaluyin sa ugat’ dugo ng pakikibaka
Hayagang ipalalaganap at isasabog sa buong sangnilikha
Na may pagkilala sa Diyos na Buhay, ng Kasaysayan, Kaayusan, at Pag-ibig
Pagpupugay sa Tahanan ng mga Propeta, Union Theological Seminary!
Sa Sampung Dekada at Labindalwang Taon
“Masaganang Nananahan,
Buong Diwang Sumasaksi,
Bukas-palad na Naglilingkod!”
Nov 21, 2019
Nov 21, 2019 at 4:16 AM UTC
Your smile is like the scent
of a wildflower; you give
it generously and graciously to all;
like a flower you wear beauty
Marvelously; that is why designers
made you their abode;
the bees (journalist) and beetles (fans) of the
concrete jungle love your sweet nature,
which is like that of a flower;
that is why your name is
on their lips and they chase
you wherever you go.
You are the most gorgeous flower
with the most captivating blush
and beautiful stalk;
you make the world blissful by
allowing our eyes to drink your
beauty till we stagger drunk with it.
By Jove! Everything about you is
wild, charming, and down to earth,
like a wildflower in the spring.
May 11, 2019
May 11, 2019 at 10:35 PM UTC
The young maiden,
with eyes the color of the green-blue sea,
porcelain skin,
and the face of an angel.
She had a hyacinth in her flaxen hair.
She is the hyacinth girl,
with beauty words can't describe,
and the grace of a princess.
Today somebody called me the hyacinth girl,
words nobody has ever said to me.
Glancing at the image in the mirror,
I didn't believe her words.
grotesque,
revolting,
and disappointing.
are all compliments that I have received generously.
hyacinths - however, I have never received.
"words with malicious intent, were never actually intended maliciously", they said.
they led me to believe,
that I could never be the hyacinth girl,
that I see deep inside of me.
Aug 15, 2013
Aug 15, 2013 at 4:06 AM UTC
We give thanks for all who have
enriched our lives with their presence;
may we honor them
by always being present for others.
We give thanks for those who
selflessly serve in our armed forces,
for the quiet sacrifices
of their family and friends
and for those who witness for peace
and work to end the conflicts of war.
We are thankful for the tears of the poor
and their example of fortitude
in the daily struggle to live
and for those that extend a hand
and offer a vision of hope
and a pathway to advancement.
We are thankful for our rich abundance
and the blessed spirit that leads us
to generously share it with others.
We are thankful for wise thoughtful teachers
and students that are eager
to use that wisdom to better the world.
We are thankful for courageous truth tellers
and the hard truths they speak
and to people of good will that are open
and willing to listen and act on those truths.
We are thankful for the care givers
and their veneration of life
and to those who receive care
and fill the heart of the giver
with fathomless gratitude.
We are thankful for people
of humility and good will
and their blessed example
of quiet service and grace.
We are thankful for children
as an embodiment of our hopes
and the future flowering
of our greatest aspirations.
We are thankful for
our animal friends
and their example
of trusted companionship
and unconditional love.
We are thankful for sobriety
and our ability to discern,
see, discover and experience
the daily grace life confers upon us.
We are thankful for those
who are no longer with us,
may our time on earth be
a blessing to others
as they were to us.
We are thankful to
a higher power
that keeps us right sized,
humble and grateful for
one more day on life's path.
Selah
Wishing All the Beloved
a Happy Thanksgiving
Peace and Prayers
Music Selection:
Shirley Horn, Here's To Life
Oakland
11/25/09
jbm
Nov 23, 2011
Nov 23, 2011 at 12:05 PM UTC
As quiet, sleek and sophisticated as they are.
Cats speak volumes
In meow tunes..to the nation of humans.
In the space they consume...
Cats speaks..uniquely thank you's in cat chat hues..
Colored as colorful as the rainbows...
loving to hide where nobody knows
Cats walk with confidences,, able to leap high over fences..
Able to hold their own.. able to freely roam..
A cat can cruise in packs..... or walk solo as a matter of fact.
They don't need man to tell them they are royal
you can see this in their stroll.
Deep down in their being.. so noble,, mankind is blessed to behold..
The animal kingdom fashioned purposefully..
Striking divinity blessing mankind usefully.
Needed generously..Well now if your
sharing space with a cat do it graciously.
Being gentle feline Angels..even when naughty enough to scold.
A cat has a unique role...Even with their pampered attitudes..
If your cats is giving you attitude and acting rude.
There's logic behind those actions and moods..
Get yourself on over to cats school and learn cats 101.
Figure out the madness causing this sadness.
Don't be a quitter.. never hit him/her...
Do no harm.. Or heavens bells will ring a alarm.
Know your attending heavenly royalty keep your blessings flowing.
Cats walk and move softly gently with grace...
Your blessed when a cats in your place.
Show them love..don't bring about disgrace.
Proverbs 12:10 A righteous man regards the life of his animal.
By HeavensRosePoet aka selinarose!
Feb 19, 2018
Feb 19, 2018 at 5:42 PM UTC
Night beckons to strange people.
Actually, if you can accept this premise,
then the mind makes everyone strange.
And still yet, there is something specific about darkness,
I cannot put my finger on it,
that sends odd sparks of real life
on a mission to city street corners.
I hide in my car after leaving the café
with the hope of seeing, "The Pigtailed Man."
This isn't his name.
However, I need say no more to any stranger
for him to envision my character.
We objectify him and his image becomes clear
even when spotted in narrowed alleyway darkness.
He has a beautiful wife
with locks past her shoulder
of auburn and lillies,
and two wonderfully bright children
who sit on his knee when listening
to nighty-night, bedtime stories.
Their ringing laughter illuminates
the darkest corners of their happy home.
They'll never know why he needs
to go bye-bye at dangerous evening hours,
hunting sour scowls from passers-by.
He's unkempt: legs unshaven, chin covered
by midnight shadow, beer belly hanging over his
plaid picnic-basket red schoolgirl skirt,
and his face sags as if a topical novocaine
was applied generously to his chubby, rosy cheeks.
Upon seeing his aimless strut
and dead-to-self eyes, I wonder: Where does he dress?
Does he put his outfit on from plastic grocery bag
around the block from the lamp-lit looks of
the neighbors' friendly daytime greetings?
More importantly, if I were friend
and was to catch him in the act,
would I say anything?
Darkness calls out the most intriguing creatures.
We're afraid to call them "human beings,"
because being human most certainly
does not look like this.
Or, does it not look like this?
Shadows claw walls around all
because not one body projects light.
There are some who know, and some who appease.
The pigtails hang to his knees as he stares
at the mannequins of pretty women
in the window of the closed department store.
Aug 17, 2012
Aug 17, 2012 at 4:05 AM UTC