Blog Archives

B&W Autograph

His smile
Blunted and shunted off to the corner of a face
The eyes
Hooded, angry, pleading—
A cold Covington, LA winter day,
But Bright Sunny,
But not his smile;
Peacoat buttoned up,
Chin up,
Wondering—
Why was he caged in his playpen inside the chickenWireFence?
Years later they’d say it was to
Keep out the snakes,
But the trauma was past and present,
He had boldly wandered into realms beyond a childhood safe and simple,
In the Brownie black and white photo he kept,
To remember,
To hope,
To repair,
Kept for his own sake
And proof:
QED

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Sky Too Green

Sky so green
Grass too blue
What I may tell you
May not be too necessarily true
Poets often wrinkle
And scurry over the rhyme
So sue me tangential
Versification has never been a capital crime
Riddle me plastic
Cauterize those peeps of joy
Life tarries aslantlike
I hope they have a baby boy
Roses be red
For her with eyes so too blue
Oh, another butterfly release—
Could you free me one day too?

Hope and Future and Chance

The pain of his past rested on the front of his eyes,
Memory tempted then mocked and let loose in droplets.
Where now can pale usefulness express its wont?
How will tomorrow find reason inside old couplets?

Full-time folly found rest upon the other slack shoulder,
And swirling, the promise and the lie presented opportunely;
Yet a path coursed beyond the copse, bidding one to follow;
New memory scorned to breach history, to grow jejunely.

An old minstrel parsed a chord, and improved;
The song of song that choirs failed yet chimed aloud;
While pan wrens sauntered and soared ever above,
Dodging the eagles, falling, sprinting to eclipse yon cloud.

Tears will dry with hope and future and chance rekindled;
Goats may prance upon thatched roofs, high and mighty,
But the parson-chaplain rises early to great the new day,
And pale usefulness finds expression, keen and rightly.

A Great Beginning

Remember when too much was a great beginning
We’re so mature now
Remember how we fell for their sparkling eyes
We’re so much more mature now
Remember when buying the next album was SO TERRIBLY IMPORTANT
We’re so so mature now
Now Mama’s in hospice
Such a really nice place
Cannot remember the room number
She cannot remember my face
Remember Mama’s own too good recipe for love
We’re so getting mature now
Remember that parking space up behind the levee
Oh, too mature for all that now
Remember that first Domilisies’s half-oyster with a Barq’s
But finally I’ve achieved maturity now
One day I’ll be in hospice
Hope it’ll have a really nice place
Cannot find my Medical Power Of Attorney
Cannot find my Advanced Directives any place
But never will I forget those sparkling eyes
Oh but, now so mature and wise
“Beatles’ new record’s a GAS…”

Make A Difference

Of course
I know I’m crazy—
It comes as no surprise:
Some say it’s in my dancing,
You claim it’s in my eyes.
Certainly
The heats now all back.
How many merlot glasses
Will put off my next fatal heart attack?
Whatever:
I’m employee #1 engaged!
Boss Lady don’t give a fig about abused consultants:
Who’s next to get pure and outraged?
I’m sure
The bottom line won’t budge:
What’s in your action plan?
Sadie is preactively actively dying—
Time to earn my token as your Angel man.

Pas De Deux

Stepping out onto the bare cliff face
The windswept girl looked askance:
Been a while since Cajun land
And firing up that two-step dance.
The poet reached out his one good hand,
But missy just followed the sun—
Watched it all the way to the evenset;
He wondered if all was over and done.
Chances are and chances’ll be
Swirling all about with the wind;
While Cajun girl browns look away
From the boy whose hazels seem kind.

Sweet Potato Praline 71

Insinuating bubbles emanated from the scuppered dragon
A fool’s bargain of untendered origin led us to just here
A poet’s lazily pulled rhymes flailed aloof on page one
A new path was desired, that much was perfectly clear

Could you loan me your smile since you’re not using it
Since my mood is lost in translation or nixed in transit

The meme of my distant daughter swears I haven’t Alzheimer’s
My phytonutrients seek softened skins and perplexity
Slices of hard orange sweet potato seek out boiling waters
But speeling is an acquired taste, marble at my dyslexity

Would you loan me your arms since you’re not using them
I’ve this tightness that rattles along with this morning’s phlegm

Heading happy back eastward on a defogged highway 71
Pralines and tourist cup delivered recorded on every tablet mile
But the aimless poet still cannot get off the floor of page one
Freezing rain means we’ll all meet here for quite a while

Could you loan me your eyes since you insist on not seeing
My arms and smile reaching for my most favorite human being

Diddybop Tag

Diddybob down the sidewalk.
Haven’t got a clue;
Tootsie Roll Pop or broccoli;
How’re things with you?
Sun is warm today.
What can you afford?
Beatles on the stereo,
Crafting words to the blackboard.
Got the second job.
Haven’t got a clue
What were those words?
Lagniappe, turkey, and glue.
Itty bitty kitty paw prints
Tracking off in the snow.
Feeling pretty good today.
Well whattayaknow:
Faith lingers at the edge,
Rush to chance a storm’s breath,
Foreign eyes play and snuggle,
Harrass despair to revel with the essence underneath.