"offsets" poems
A follow on poem to 'In the Sunroom (Suicide)" (1)
writ many years later...
~For MWK~
<>
A stray thought. a burring burrowing, thorny tawny:
A wish, yet to get, but vetted for each of us.
*This within, this redoubt, a contemplative oasis,
my indoor poet's nookery rookery sanctuary
each one, each is, deserves, all, one such,
a place holy filled, with lice and dirt of a life,
strained and trained for emission and transmission
of the best of the worst, and the triumphant emergent commission of
our individualized most excellent fresh best
where crumbs of apple crisp pie solidify, vanilla bean ice cream
melt offsets the oven heated warmth, and from this interactive
contrasts combative,
a poem pie reborn, newly disguised, familiar words,
yet unheard and before this very never,
went unspoken and now goes forth
svelte and unbroken
*rhymes of yore, forgot from a before, but making up the walls
of the here and now,
a sunroom to spread out the lit lights of egress and entrance,
of fire door no exits that now are chiseled closed,
lock in, lock up, and somehow, one, stills to learn from
the stilling quiet solitude.
to penetrate the prostrate kneeling grinning grief,
how to expel and spell the words
that grant
relief
visit my sunroom, though no fiction.
the sun rays *********** create the friction
of that which cannot ever be withered nor contained,
and your mouth opens wide and a poem birthed and delivered,
pastiche paste composted of truth and dreams of fiction, fine diction,
with a shrug, a smile, a satisfaction extracted extraordinary,
you garner moments of satisfaction but cloud cover returns,
and the process of sunrise exposition recommences,
and one revisits the elemental sequencing of
all the predecessor pain, but this time,
for gain, for gain,
<>
written this sabbath Saturday
12:38am EST
Sat Aug 2
2025
in the sunroom,
on Shelter Island
Aug 2, 2025
Aug 2, 2025 at 12:59 AM UTC
I am the Bird of Hermes,
I devoured my own wings,
And that is how I keep myself tamed.
Like a dark ghost you haunt me,
Wherever I go, your memories stalk me,
You think you knew me,
But the reality is far from the fantasy,
You have just seen the worst in me,
How would you look at me now?
A piller of strength,
One, with dangerous potential,
in the end, it's all sequential
Part of the tragedy is that life is unforgetful,
So strong that others fear my potential,
So dark and timid, yet so calm it offsets,
the storm that goes where I go,
To the point where I have to bite my wings,
And stop myself from soaring,
Cause this is not the story of Icarus,
But of the Fallen Bird that outgrew the master,
Yes, I am the Bird of Hermes,
And I devoured my own wings,
So that I remain tamed.
Feb 12, 2019
Feb 12, 2019 at 4:47 AM UTC
U will never find a Sunrise,
that Sunsets Her Treasured Smile.
U will never find a Season,
that Offsets Her Romancing Style.
Her Mind that races Faster,
has Hands that are often Kind.
Her Heart is always Forgiving,
with Generosity U will never Find.
She's your Shade, in sultry Summer
and your Blanket, when it's Cold.
Her Nights are lit with Passions,
with Desires Hot and Bold.
There's much more to a Woman,
than what's written on Her Face.
With Feelings that are Full of Life.
She will win any given Race.
Jun 18, 2022
Jun 18, 2022 at 10:42 AM UTC
some tongues are forever wagging
where it all comes from I do not know
and how the universe soaks it up
word by word and offsets it all
balancing with the silence of space
vast sump collecting all the chatter
storing and dissipating Earths gossip
Jun 15, 2014
Jun 15, 2014 at 11:48 AM UTC
My earthly desire is to have...
a woman comprised of softness,
both in flesh and soul.
Her presence offsets the hardness
of everyday living that bluntly smacks me.
To be with a spirit, overflowing with joy,
greeting me daily with unexpected sweetness,
soothes all internal bruises from
the day's accumulation of subtle brutality.
Rubies belie her value to me;
her natural radiance permeates my core,
allowing me to experience intimacy.
Mar 30, 2012
Mar 30, 2012 at 11:03 AM UTC
You won't remember all the fuss you
cause, my precious microcosm
This strange bewildering exhausting
global economy you dwell in
Apparently the lease expired and your time has come
Driven by grievance more than strategy
It sets the stage for fireworks and confusion
In one dizzying morning into afternoon
I'm searching for who to blame
Histories on the episode may well spend a chapter on
your mother's unhinged notions née crazy talk
It becomes clear in real time how the risks
of an escalating trade war
give a centimeter, take a centimeter
And the fraying of longstanding ties
Could quickly outpace the ability to evict you
As your mother, the normal first responder
to your distress, I can do
Absolutely nothing about it but push
In what seems a shoot-first approach to such
a delicate moment
The escalation, the unpredictability, the erratic
nature of developments
Is central to what is going on
Something is breaking
That something is me!
Our world is on edge
Looking for a sign of what to do next
The labor market drops and you're crowned
a royal pain
Peace is found, it's proportional
And by all measures you're quite hale
quite beautiful!
This offsets the damage of a messy exit
The disconnect I incessantly prayed for offers
melancholy over relief
In our opening act you're already moving
away from me
While the female body is a powerful tool
It cannot provide a settled rule book for
such internal battle
Still, this adventure, scary and catastrophic as
it was, is well-suited to the wonders that I am
For that I'm grateful to my Creator
The lesson of the last several hours is that forces are unfolding
that we can't do much to contain
We're merely nesting passengers en route to
a foreign destination
Oct 18, 2019
Oct 18, 2019 at 6:00 PM UTC
Did she notice,
when she walked down into my eyes
that my sight stole my voice?
To return in stuttered, half compliments
of flitting words.
too flimsy to hold the heart.
Did she notice my staring gaze,
my eyes, casting timid glances
while I searched myself for eloquent words
to tell her my knees were weak,
and my heart was beating
with good dishonourable intentions.
Wrapped in midnight
and pink hued sunset horizons.
Hiding some and alluding to others,
the woman curved beneath the clothes.
Her hair up, in golden silk curls
to celebrate tonight
with full passioned lips
smacking of sultry invitations,
and drowning deep sea eyes.
Sporting a breathless smile
and black heels.
While I feel so ordinary and tedious,
dressed in my fine suit
and matching offsets.
She takes my hand
so everyone can see
that she is mine.
And now I am alive.
How beautifully she shines;
beyond the limit of the eyes
to the scope of the heart
and the extent of the soul,
that see in different dimensions
than sights' perception can go.
To unmask the splendor
behind the face.
For this is what pulls the strings
of my surrendering;
A man and clothes
may make each other,
but a woman
will make him feel it.
Sep 10, 2024
Sep 10, 2024 at 11:57 AM UTC
We pick up where we left off
Those deep brown eyes
And that side slide smile
My heart offsets its rhythm
Your arms wrapped around me
And it feels like perfection
A completed puzzle
Of lust and safety
Never-ending summer evenings
It feels like home
And I think you feel it too
Jun 8, 2018
Jun 8, 2018 at 2:12 PM UTC
Three climb the hill behind the house:
my master with the yearling cow and
me. The dawn-light
glinting sidelong off the heifer's glossy
hide is a memory of the morning star
reflecting its own shadow. As we
walk out past the fence gate posts
into the winter pasture (now in bloom), the gray
grass swells in the fickle breeze.
I hear the sea swells move across the grain
and splash against my side unrhythmically.
The man, who walks with purpose in his stride,
holds limply wood and steel there at his side
or shifts the load to point into the sky.
The quiet beast, chewing, climbs the hill
from sunrise-side toward its falling down.
I guess she thinks this Eden, (this meadowland
unspoiled) and she the sole inheritor
of a paradise of grain.
But here where we can see the earth
stretch out beyond itself, we pause and tie
the yearling cow to some eternal oak.
The dawn-light in crescendo
echoes off her onyx hide. A crimson sky
offsets a gem of silver on the rise. Now
wood and steel rise coldly through
the chilled mid-morning air. Chewing she
stares down at me her sombre bovine stare.
He raises up his single arm and heavily exhales.
Her stare now without object falls
beside the hallowed tree in rippling
peals of thunder that vibrate
through the dew. She lies where she
belongs upon the earth, black
hide and life-blood mingle with the dirt.
Now two descend the hill into the yard.
My master's path is to the barn
to finish what's been done while I
wrack my mind for how
she might have sinned.
I don't think I will climb that hill again.
I don't think I will climb that hill again...
May 15, 2017
May 15, 2017 at 7:54 PM UTC
Shift left to center self
Dodge right and slight movement offsets imbalance
Center, focus on your breath
Jul 7, 2016
Jul 7, 2016 at 11:57 AM UTC