"windsurf" poems
Pulled by sounds of the inner ear
My mouth it trembles, it inches near
to whisper nothings in her ear
to expose my inner fear
The sounds aloud say "Enter Dear"
but I don't think i'll windsurf here
I find it clear that Winter's near
Retreat outside this inner ear!
I run and dive and disappear
in the desert in the clear
where nothing tries to interfere
to be alone and chin the tears
to sway and pass the spinning years
to dance and bow and give my cheers
I know I am the winner here
Feb 11, 2014
Feb 11, 2014 at 2:41 PM UTC
I loved a man named Alex once
was a kiteboard instructor in Hood River.
Things are sour now,
Real fuckin' bad.
But he makes an appearance every so often.
Met a man at the bar tonight
introduced himself as Alex,
strike one.
Said he was visiting from Hood River,
strike two.
Asked: "you windsurf?"
Said: "no, kite."
****
Oct 8, 2015
Oct 8, 2015 at 4:55 PM UTC
Dried leaves can windsurf
Dead trees rollick in the breeze
My ashes will dance
Oct 1, 2021
Oct 1, 2021 at 10:58 AM UTC