reticulate

in dresses shiny
and shimmering
like fishes' scales
reticulate like mermaid tails
or full and billowy
like a ship's sails
the gals gown up
in glamour
put on their armour
and aspire
for more amore
Cinderellas awaiting
the stroke of midnight
hoping for a magic kiss,
or in lieu of this,
happily tipsy in a whirl of
friends, champagne and bliss

wormhole

wander the wilds
hoping to find
adventure & love & peace
a latter day Alice
not fallen but shoved
and the world
pattered by
in broken bits and pieces
as I tumbled down a tunnel
through a wormhole
to burst forth into a new land
stranger, full of danger,
and impossible things
before breakfast
and I wonder as I wander
if this land will be better
if I will be better
as I try to gain my bearings
and keep my head
in a world gone mad

petulant

snapshots of bliss
peppermint kisses
thickshakes with straws
petulant pouts and puckers
like breaking waves
of flower petals, dusky
soft and supple and scented
sneaky grins and smiles
stretched from ear to ear
pursed in consternation
undulating in conversation
a mouth in motion
and as another calendar
comes to a close
I remember the sensation
of those lips pressed to mine
in a New Year's midnight moment
unrepeatable, irretrievable
and I hope

kinesics

my body, my betrayer
each flush of anger
each blush of love
each rush of danger
all admitting of
every blasted emotion
ever so hard to hide
when your corporeal form
is never on your side
my kinesics are a signpost
for those who care to read
I wish I could disguise them-
not wear my heart upon my sleeve

favonian

a craggy mountaintop
and trees and peace
and things that speak in whispers
and lives that buzz and bark and snuffle
and have never seen pavement
and favonian breezes
singing in our ears
a mystery, an enchantment
and escape and retreat and space
these, these I repeat like a rosary
these I wish for you and me

belie

the smile in his eyes
belies the lies
you never recognize
how he'd aggrandize
and his little sighs
his happiness implies
as he tries to disguise
but you get wise
see how you compromise
and you agonize
and empathize
not wanting to jeopardize
and so internalize
until it will metastasize
this is how love dies

crèche

the churchyard is empty
bitter and cold
and in the center stands
a crèche
symbol of hope
and a world reborn
a world redeemed
behind the church
a graveyard
a ground of goodbyes
and lives unfinished
and in between the church
a sanctuary
for some who search
for peace in the journey
between the yards

aftermath

the words fly forth

unbidden and regrettable

unretractable

and in that moment

something turned

i blame myself

that bridge was burned

and in the aftermath

i can't recover

i showed the fissures

my imperfections

and they were seen as such

marry in haste

repent at leisure

so saying the saying goes

applicable to more

than matrimony

exorbitant

you pay the price
exorbitant
for those
who came before
you build up
your good credit
and then get
shown the door
the person next
in line gets
to reap your benefits
and the person
next you meet
pays off their deficits
it's devaluing - this cycle
no wonder some elect
to hide their treasure
in a sock drawer
and leave nothing
ever spent

cavil

days get frantic
sometimes I panic
in the cavalcade of care
I cavil over where
or whether silver linings
exist at all
but this holds ever true
I have a friend in you
and when the days
seem too long
when I am weak
and tired
sad and haggard
you are strong
you lift my spirits
dry my tears
and hand me
many, many beers
and together
I become greater
so that later
when the tides turn,
for we all are Fortune's fool,
I can do the same for you

invidious

they creep in
like weeds
ivy beautiful
but destructive
the thoughts
invidious and cruel
of all the things
we cannot change
for they are not
in our keeping
and we
poor fools
must tend this garden
vigilant
lest we be
overwhelmed
again

Gordian knot

A seething ball,
twisted and tied,
my heart is trussed
and hidden within
a Gordian knot.
I pick at the threads
trying to unravel -
no longer waiting
for an Alexander,
great or otherwise,
to slice through
and release me.

hidebound

he screams into the void
vehement and implacable
and ever provoked
hidebound in his hatreds
hardheaded and hardhearted
zealot of his own religion
the ever present I
surrounded by the same
bellowing bloviators
parroting party platitudes
and worshiping at the altars
of themselves

perpetuity

so history repeats
in perpetuity
with tiny little tweaks
of fluidity
like molecules of water
flowing down a river
never the same
but ever the same
so we all go
to the sea

unclubbable

wallflower melting into wallpaper
as the "hail fellow, well met"
hearty greetings of the others
flow past me like mercury,
deadly and uncatchable,
and I, unclubbable, shrink
into myself, paste my face
with a cheery grin to
deflect attention from
my darting eyes and sigh
as I calculate just how long
until I can leave without being rude

deference

onward, onward, onward
we must go
we carry our bundles,
our burdens, our bags
in bindles, in boxes,
in bunches of rags
we clutch them close to us
we hope we don't drop
something significant
we know we can't stop
to go back to retrieve
but onward must go
and some race
towards a finish line
no one can see
some lag and drag
lingering as long as they can
like children in a candy shop
eyes round and indecisive
but still
choices must be made for
onward, onward we must go
in deference to ones
who went before
who carved out the paths
we now traverse
we shut our mouths
"it could be worse"
so silently we march
with impedimenta
tailored to each
some through happy valleys
some over treacherous passes
but all roads lead
to the same sea in the end
there, where we set ourselves down
and in the ocean of time, we all drown

natatorial

arms ache
breath sticks
legs kick
as through molasses
natatorial talents
stretched so
thin and tenuous
certain to sink
and drown
in this morass
unless, at last,
and not too soon
solid ground

fulminate

she stews

and stirs

and fulminates

he rants 

and raves

against the fates

forced joined 

they fight the world

full of fire

and shared hates

syzygy

bodies astral
hurling through space
on our own trajectories
were never meant to be
but for a brief moment
of perfect syzygy
we aligned and learned
that even in harmony
one eclipses the other
and so back
to our separate orbits
perhaps to pass again
in later centuries
on our journeys round the sun
but not meant
to orbit each other
the gravity
not strong enough
to pull us together
for perpetuity

tawdry

hindsight is 20/20
so they say
they are wrong
it is a long look
down an ancient teleidoscope
everything broken and distorted
as the tube is twisted
the lens we look down
refracting and contracting
our visions
depending on where we focus
and how we twist
making the insignificant
all important
making the noblest intentions
tawdry and tainted
making mockery of memory
the things we wish were true
the things we wish were false
all things we'll never know
but this we do
in others memories
we are disfigured too

velleity

they run amok
trampling flowers
smashing and breaking
china shop bullyboys
never braking
in a flush/in a rush
full of big ideas that flash
and burst like fireworks
and then like fireworks
forgot
in the glow
of the next explosion
disregarding/disarming
ever, ever, ever so charming
these jukebox dancers
karaoke kings
mouthing promises
plucking strings
tumbling cartwheels
with jaunty hats
& silly songs
enjoy them now
but lightly
and let them go
before a velleity
sends them spinning
and their whirling winds
blow you away
a Dorothy without an Oz
in a broken house
in black and white reality
left with technicolor dreams

livid

casual cruelty
born of thoughtlessness
smug grin
complaint on complaint
she could not win
and she tried to be
impervious
to the slights
but loutishness
made vivid
after bourbons
made her livid
and finally she left

objet trouvé

some things
cannot be made
they must be found
objet trouvé
litter the landscape
waiting to be collected
and kept and treasured
we are all such
as we all search
a sea of sweeping eyes
seeing only debris
but one looks deeper
and sees me

adamantine

to cover the emptiness of the rhetoric,
the hollow squawk
of words said to not to convey
or communicate or connect

the posture of the "passionate":
vehement declarations of adamantine positions
repeated ad nauseum with fulminating exhortations
in vociferous cacophony

blowhards full of bloviating blather
getting louder and louder
to hide how little
they actually matter

jackleg

a grand farrago
mosaics made up of
broken bits
jackleg jobs
done on the sly
configured
and rejiggered
on the fly
pastiche people
in hasty shanties
decorating
like magpies on acid
yet through this
mishmash mess
the patchwork perseverance
we see the beauty
in our duct-taped ingenuity
in our carry-on and can-do
in the glorious makeshift madness
of me and you

menorah

like a cheap and tacky
dollar store plug-in menorah
it represented the thing
but was not the thing
it offered a sad semblance
but no grandeur
a flickering plastic version
of hope
that lasted both
more and less
than eight nights
and while it would do
in a pinch
it couldn't hold a candle
to a real flame

repair

i retreat
repairing to a safe space
to repair myself
collecting all the bits and pieces
and a giant tube of krazy glue
(more crazy than glue)
to salvage, sort and stick
with spit and hope
and hope that it will hold
that the cracks and seams
will not seem so great
to the ones who see me after
or that they will find charm
in my antique finish
and if they fill
this empty vessel,
if they pour themselves,
their hope and love
to fill me up again
that I will hold
that my fissures
will not leak and seep
and spill their gifts
irretrievable

imprimatur

marking it with his scent
like an old tomcat
in a new house,
his imprimatur
he puts about the place
and settles in
gets cozy
by the fire
made up
of burning bridges
and memories

durable

skeptics mouthing an incantation
with no intonation
full of suspicion
are never surprised
when magic doesn't happen

to build from material ephemeral
something eternally durable
required an alchemy beyond us

so now I say a different spell
a sorcery for just me
a charm against the charming
against the face disarming
no curses or hexing
just a potion or three
in a glass raised to the world
ever perplexing
enchanting myself
if no one else

etymology

broken down
into component parts;
teasing out our history
from bits and pieces,
fits and starts.
seeing how this came to be:
a couple's etymology.

we roll the sounds around
our mouths
like marbles,
random vowels and consonants,
until they become merely
disassociated dissonance

or, like a child
dissecting an old clock,
we lay the bits of us
upon the table.
marvel at how
we're put together
and when we are all laid out,
springs and cogs
and promises,
when we are the parts
and not the whole;

that is when
we're asked the time

we scramble.
try to remember
what went where,
but despite our best efforts...
always tiny pieces left out,
ifs and ands and maybes,
our metal bent
ever so slightly
as we reassemble.

and though the hands
spin round the face,
our reconstruction
no longer keeps the pace.
time spins
in syncopated circles
until it stops
and we with it

consequential

time drags provincial

dust motes in the air dance sunlit songs

aeons pass
in the gaps between
your words
in the gaps between
ourselves

hidden in the couch
change
consequential
for which
calloused fingers dig

unable to melt
in a moment of content

they must search for the prize
and pull apart the peace
piece by piece

not even waiting for the end of the song 

paragon

The pedestal
you place her on
wobbles
and she is overcome
with vertigo.
She is no paragon,
no pinnacle,
no perfection;
nor wishes
to be.
You,
in your worship
place her high above -
thinking you honor her
instead of torture her.
A woman,
scared of heights,
is no less lovely
standing on the ground
and more accessible
by far.

emeritus

let go the role
no more yours
retire quietly
emeritus forevermore
going forward
will you be
never is it easy
relinquishing relevance
but better that with dignity
than some forced obsolescence
so it seems from this side
but how could we yet grasp
the intricate complexity
of knowing your last gasp

colligate

a button 
a pen
a picture of two
a ticket stub from
a museum
visited on a rainy day
a pillowcase
an unmatched sock
for a foot
far bigger than mine
a grocery list
memories all
colligate by virtue
of having once been
part of you
part of us
treasures or trash
I cannot say
but for today
I pack them away
back in the heart of me
holding them safe
awaiting another rainy day

minatory

my eyes open to the darkness
drink it in
it holds no more terrors
they are not without
the clattering of the train passing 
shattering the false peace 
in minatory tones
and I look beside
to see the empty bed
the solitary pillow
missing its head
and I pull it to me
folding myself
into myself
and around it
cushioning my heart
and hoping for sleep

Xanadu

with coffee cups and silver spoons
he builds a cozy castle
globes and record players
old stoves and new pictures
rag rugs and flag rugs
in disparate pieces
makes a whole
makes a home
weathered and tethered
to the world
with memories made
and yet to be
this Xanadu peopled
with a family
an assemblage
seemingly random
but as carefully collected
as the furnishings
greater than
the sum
of all
their parts

dyed-in-the-wool

The zealot flies; buoyed by the updraft of his certainty,
his passionate intensity, and a possible propensity for insensitivity.

And they,
staunch supporters,
dyed-in-the-wool devotees
are lifted too.

His flight carries all...until one disagrees
(variance causing imbalance)
and must dropped so the others may soar.

And the others cheer and jeer the plummeting figure,
and the next,
and the next,
and the next;
happy that it is not they,
only aware that as his load is lightened
they soar higher,
oxygen thinner,
until the irony cannot breathe.

henotheism

and so he was
shining in the sun
the brightest
in a pantheon
of bright young things
such was his power
a young Zeus
and she
high school Semele
worshipped him
above all
as she scribbled in her notebook
and sighed behind her braces
and glasses and fears
her henotheism myopic
but unshakable
doomed to be
immolated by doubt
burnt and broken
so it ever was

foreshorten

I wish I could
this time
abridge
or skip
right to the end
instead
poor student
that I am
I reread
this paragraph
uncomprehending
over and over
again
this time
is a novel
I cannot foreshorten
written in a language
I cannot fathom
on which I will be tested
but know not when

nebula

as macro
so micro

we explode
atoms rush and race and rage outward
then cool, contract
as we react

we are formed
and reformed

human nebula
universes circling
in dance hall patterns
ancient and lovely

as we collide and converge
temperaments emerge
order is found in the chaos
on a busy train platform
on a rainy Tuesday
morning
in the city

fulsome

the hyperbole
of hope
fulsome and gaudy
exaggerated
like new lovers
or old grudges
greatened and grander
by the bottle
we pour
we guzzle
taking courage
by the doubles
rattling
like ice cubes
in a glass
as empty
as our rhetoric
as hollow
as our hearts

vicinity

you sink
a semiplume
pruned, plucked
and floating through
the atmosphere
landing gently
in her hair
discarded from
the raptors
circling above
the detritus of the vicious

the world covers her
in greens and blues
and from
her fingertips
drips
petrichor dreams
that clean away
the salt water stench of
persistent tears

still lost
but in the vicinity
of hope

that once was

ruly

my butterfly eyes
don't see so good
but sparkle in the sun
like dewdrop lips
that taste of spring
hair of twined ivy
petal soft skin
somnolent sweet honey
that trickles over
in a drowsy fountain
painting lazy rivers
down my back
my heart
a riot of manic flowers
an exploding universe of
scintillating scents
enticing me onward
to leave behind forever
the ruly, mannered lawns
of my neighbors
for a wilderness all my own

onomastics

Lover's Tale

they lived in the land of nicknames
of "darling"s and "baby"s galore
these endearments endearing delighted
back when the whole thing was requited

their given names given a backseat
to sweetnesses only for two
onomastics love had then banished
at least until love then had vanished

that's how they then knew it was over
when formal their sentences ran
vocabulary changed
when they were estranged
no more with "my dear"
but only plain "here"
when the "lovely"s were gone
they knew it was wrong

now over and done
of nicknames they've none
but epithets not fit to print
if that gives you a sort of a hint

sadly, so often it's thus
but don't worry, my darling,
my lovely, my dear,
that could never,
no, never,
I promise not ever,
that could never
happen to us

inviolable

pillows and sheets
and hid beneath
spinning tales
magical and true
were we two
whispered incantations
a fortress made
inviolable against marauders
armies commanded
tribute demanded
benevolent or bloodthirsty
as we fancied
dictating a world
with gibberish and rubbish
and imagining
o'er which to reign
together

talisman

i get lost
within the blue
flashes of fire
glimmer of magic
a promise held
talisman
treasure
tie to the past
hope for the future
my grandma's opal
my mother's opal
my opal
i reach for it
clutch it carefully
and dream
of dusty deserts
and beaches
and the smell
of eucalyptus
across the oceans deep
they reach
and wrap
envelope me
tethered ever
by the tear drop
that hangs
around my neck

purloin

with fluffy trickery
a conman
a conqueror
hearts purloined
deceived by
soft words
softer caress
hiding
claws that rend
teeth that bite
lulled into submission
until the time is ripe
slash and rip
precisely
then tidy
and move on
leaving corpses behind

equanimity

grace and equanimity

I fear that I have none

I started out so well

but since have come undone

I swore they'd be my watchwords

to get me through these days

but they have since deserted me

and in a darker phase

now I find I find myself

and still don't understand

it never should have come to this

it should have just been grand

but the darkness rises

now summer's come and gone

never did i foresee this

when you came along

bipartisan

our house divided
we could not stand
and so it is
we fell
so caught
in rhetoric
got lost
in being right
until common ground
merely small talk
as we sat across the table
over plates of dinner
cooling
our bipartisan effort
a resigned shrug
as we both reached
for the wine

sinecure

i build myself utopia
the world revolves
for me
all worries resolve
for me
a sinecure provides
but not demands
and so my art thrives
with time and plenty
on my hands
beloved by all
commended,
celebrated and adored
and as the cheering throngs
reverberate in my ears...
the phone rings
back to my
day job doldrums drawn
and with a fake and facile
"hello, how may I help you"
this life goes on

dewy

new formed
half-baked
we skated through
in pirouettes
like wobbly tops
easy and fearless
careless and clumsy
doe-eyed and dewy
ever so fresh
so beautiful
in ecstasy
in profligacy
in flagrancy
ever so unique
like every other
boundless
yet bound
to each other
we raced
ever so fast
through the world
careening towards
greatness
ever so proud
and now
ever so weary
slowed by friction
and entropy
we look behind
and laugh
that we were
ever so young
that we've come
ever so far
that we're still
ever so
even so

kangaroo court

search for justice
hard to find
when she's capricous
as well as blind
she's jury, judge
and executioner
for every quirk
of his minutiae
her kangaroo court
has deemed him lacking
and so it was
she sent him packing
then he goes on
to do the same
to the next contestant
in the dating game

umami

some are too sweet
cloying and saccharine
dripping with sugary words
but have no real substance
empty calories

some are too spicy
overwhelming and vibrant
but to the detriment of all else

some are salty
ribald and racy
but leave you parched

some are tart and tangy
some are bitter
some leave you bitter

give me an umami love
meaty and savory 
rich and round

the others are fine
for snacks
a desert
a starter

but make my meal umami
make my love umami
make my life umami
and I'll be satisfied

gadfly

I hear it
ringing in my ears
words spew forth
nitpicking recriminations
"why me's"
my own personal gadfly
the tinnitus of disappointment
and that is all I hear
until she whispers
he laughs
they play a song
we come together
a band of troubadours
singing in the darkness
drowning out the whine
in joyful bombast
and comraderie

absolve

Redemption comes but slowly 

It comes with moving on 

I wish I could have told me

Of the dark before the dawn

I wonder now what difference 

A warning would have brought 

And if I would have left before

Destruction had been wrought 

Of this I can't absolve me

All the things I cannot change

Though they never did involve me 

They haunt me just the same

Lucullan

mistress of all
the huntress queen
she reigns supreme
stretches languidly
on a Lucullan pillow
brushed and manicured
loved and tended
petted and feted
her subjects supplicate with
morsels tasty, toys, and treats
and a purr of content
or a hiss of disapproval
all the language she needs

williwaw

i let go the aching
i let go the bliss
into memory i pack them
done, for now, with this
the year is moving onward
my clock ticks up a notch
and calm becomes
a longed for friend
content, a treasured guest
the wild williwaws of my past
cyclonic whirling tempestuous tirades
have depleted me
and i look to the porch
to the morning bird
and a cup of tea
to restore myself to myself
sans the seesaw
of a mind frenzied
harried by the black dog
and the pecking crows
racing always to the cliff's edge
a heart that cannot do things by halves
but ever leaps with nary a look
and in the placid tinkle
of a teaspoon in a mug
serenity awaits

trepid

inward I retreat
ever incomplete
trepid of heart
finally fearfull
from the falls
the empty halls
that echo
reverberating
all my wrongs
back to me
in hollow song

confidant

rumpled and wrinkled
tattered and torn
with glass eyes you've seen
every tear shed
and sung me to sleep
as I clung for dear life
and never once judged
all my failings
hugged almost thin
weathered, careworn
as recompense
I've made repairs
resewn your ear
where the kitten had chewed
cleaned your countenance
smudged still
with remnants of nail polish
spilled years ago
a birthmark
I think
that I made you
my close confidant
you've kept every secret
listened to woes
repeated too frequent
your compatriots
have come and gone
but with life's blows
I return to you again
Bo the bear
ever dear
forever here
forever you'll remain

ruddy

there was a perfect moment once:

the sweetest words
I'd ever heard
your breath warm
against my cheek
and if I close my eyes
I still can feel
your forehead
against my temple
smell the mint and whisky
you whispered in my ear
my cheeks ruddy
as the blush rose
incredulous
that in a moment
I could believe
myself so beautiful
because you saw me so

microburst

all is calm and quiet
in the center of my storm
and, for the moment,
I can stand serene
until a small reminder
a tiny disturbance
breaks my peace
a picture or a song
you used to sing
and suddenly I'm flying
caught in a microburst
violent and blustery
my emotions
get the best of me
the worst of me
and raged and ravaged
by inner tempests
that no one else can see
I choke and sputter
drenched and bewildered
in a hurricane
of memory

ebullient

princesses aplenty
and ghosts and goblins too
superheroes resplendent
in their capes
the ghouls float by ebullient
tiny witches practice cackles
cats meow and wolfmen howl
all the people
incognito
cloaked in mystery
time creaks on
becoming history
the autumn carnivale
for the kiddies and us all
treats piled in their bags
the sugar high will last
until turkey
brings somnambulance
with winter and it's storms
a rehearsal for the years to come

underwhelm

so overwhelming the beginning...
so underwhelmed the end
the bang and then the whimper
TS got it right, my friend
no happy ever after
a pop and then a fizzle
fireworks set off
in a never-ending drizzle
and so it is and is again
anticipating joy
expect the least
and but hold on, hope...
here comes another boy

pellucid

grey dampness blankets
obscuring and blurring
making a washed out watercolor
of the world
milky nebulous shapes
drift past like dust motes
in the summer sun
diffuse and distorted
in stark contrast to you
a pellucid beacon
reflecting the best of me
back to me
the full moon
lighting up the darkness
turning the tides
I bask in you

delectation

a panoply, this menagerie
leaves whirl and swirl
like dervishes
in a plethora of possibility
they indulge delighted
banqueting on
the pumpkin autumn winds
cuddling in cardigans
with cider and sunset
for their delectation
and each other for exaltation

slapstick

with timing comically bad
and coordination tragically worse
I tumble and stumble
through this concrete jungle
bumbling at a breakneck pace
master of accidental slapstick
a giddy goof grinning and guffawing
to get through the day
til homeward bound
jostling against the other clowns
shoved in our subway clown car
the greasepaint weighs heavy
and we share a weary smile
to hold the tears at bay

victual

Instagram Food Porn 

it seems so silly -
our sustenance
in victual pixels,
a pictorial plenitude
of all our food,
tasty noms
and photo bombs,
and yet, the yum
I also snap
to make jealous
those who lack
the cooking savvy
to best my snacks -
with a hashtag
for hash-browns
my triumphs paraded
and my culinary failures
in compost degraded
unseen by the masses
so reputation unabated
for kitchen MacGuyvering
meals so inspiring
you'll all be wondering how
to get your hands on my
tasty, delicious, gorgeous, nutritious
delectable, savory, scrumptious, full-flavory
chow

impeccable

require the ideal
and disappointed be
the impeccable
is regrettable
it is an end, a wall
flawless is finished
is cold, is distant
unforgiving

messy embraces
and encases
us all

be the best
of your worsts

so you may be you
so I may, too
so we may amalgamate
and incorporate
and make
glorious the indecorous
flauntingly flawed
bodacious and odd
and delight as we err
ever human

flimflam

"it pays to be cautious,
careful and kind"
the mantra she speaks
to herself
after going full-throttle
with choices she ought to
have calmly considered
and guarded against
with common-sense

but here she goes again
despite the evidence
the awful consequence
of an open heart
flimflammed
and scammed
because the alternative
is too much to bear
a jaded life where
the joy depleted
she retreats defeated

better to believe
and be deceived
than never achieve
the soaring bliss
of hope

googol

there is no number great enough

a googol wouldn't cut it

to quantify the moment

we first kissed

a million billion
stars exploding

on a quantum level

when atoms smashed
and quiet dashed

electrons jumped 

for joy
the universe 

expanded

when your lips 

so softly landed

on my own

on a new york city street

the epic and prosaic meet

there and then

and once again
until the end 

replete

In memory, a haven:
a hodge-podge warren
of tumbled jumbled
twenty-somethings
fumbling forward
towards glory.
A bubbling pot of
potential and catastrophe
replete with the requisite
friendships and fights
and flirting and fussing and fun...
and that we are, all,
so many years along,
that we are - 
so far from where we were -
that we are yet,
still, friends
(though time and distance
and commitments dilute)
friends, still,
though friendship now measured
in texts and messages and emoji
instead of daily beers and brawls
and bawling and falling down laughing
and such, and so
my heart with fullness knows
friends we are
haven we were
still home we ever will be

nocebo

These moments haunt,
the ghosts of failures
float above and whisper
pernicious.

Bitter pills,
these words ambiguous
become superstition unshared.
A prayer to no one,
sans rosary,
repeated ad infinitum.

Each conversation dissected;
appraised, every kiss.
And you get lost in this:
are they are innocuous?
Nocebos made sinister by self?

A look, a tone, a smile inscrutable:
signs ignored or imagined?
Self perpetuating paranoiac myth
or innate inevitable mistake?
Was it always so
or did you make him go?

Correlation or causation
you wonder sans cessation
and, either way, he's gone -
a new ghost in your retinue
susurrating. 

capitulate

he carries it with him
like a penance

it bends his back
and slows his step
as he wraps it
around himself

a coarse and cumbersome coat
made of sodden wool
it clings
damp and heavy

he trudges stoically
the weight willing him
to the ground

if only he'd capitulate

and she marches
next to him
through summer
in solidarity

encouraging
cajoling
entreating
imploring
at every step
for him to, please,
please, look up
release the cloth
which burdens him so
to see the sunshine
and feel the warmth of it
on his skin

if only he'd capitulate

but he will not let go
for it guards him
from a winter
she cannot see

oldster

born curmudgeon
with crinkly grin
and wrinkled twinkling eyes
grown into age gracefully
oldster now
old soulster always
shaking your fists
and shouting with aplomb
finally and forevermore
"Get off my lawn!"

blithesome

the lovers kiss on the platform
blithesome and darling and free
enveloped in the invisible
oblivious to the trains
roaring past and bellowing
locked in a moment
lost in each other
we unwitting voyeurs
smile wistfully
as the carriage rolls past
in memory
that kisses
are also
a promise
in memory
of our own
long forgotten love
long forgiven lies
and because
we long
for young lovers' bliss

jurisprudence

the room is filled with the exhausted
the harried and resigned
awaiting with their numbers
and hoping they're declined
my day of jury duty
left me sad for all the rest
when the lawyers
did their voire dire
and then sifted through the mess
in the course of jurisprudence
on a day that never ends
they share their deepest secrets
and hope the judge
them homeward sends
and I sat my fate awaiting
until I was homeward set
for having once been robbed
justice for me never met
and so I've never sat a jury
though fair I hope I'd be
I guess in seven years
we'll have another chance to see

tremulous

i am an autumn leaf
no longer green
and busily bursting forth
hopefully reaching for the sun
time has turned me
i am transfigured into
a darker hue
in amber and russet
i rustle
attached but tenuously
tremulous and unready
to let go
 

miasma

In dank and gloom
the creature creeps
through broken stones
and creaking trees.
It stalks the silly
thrill-seekers
wandering its lot
in the midnight hour
oblivious to shadows;
closing in
on youthful idiocy
and its bottle of gin.
And so it begins
when for them it ends.
A scream unanswered.
A body found,
a bloodied pile
on the ground.
Teens spouting
improbable babble
ignored by authority
as cockamamie twaddle.
So a swirling miasma
of fog and decay,
of distrust and delay
fills the air
rank and noxious -
a portent
of days to come
as one by one
the monster feeds.

affluent

we watch the race from the sidelines
having no wish to run it

who can be
the prettiest
the thinnest
the richest
the most

with all the things
upon their backs
to weight them

these Joneses keep
on running
til their feet
are bloodied stumps

the zombie marathon
rushes past

my friends and I
sip our lemonade
and enjoy the parade
affluent in a different currency

proclivity

kindred spirits: hard to find
glorious weirdos who respond in kind.
sweeter still shared proclivity
discovered in close proximity.
untrammeled joy is ever fleeting.
très triste, was your retreating.
duration brief makes wistful smile;
mischievous eyes shine sans guile.
an open book, pages left blank
i am become yet humbly thank
you for the chapter you helped write.
ephemeral is all delight.
i could have wished it lasted longer
i still could wish that it were stronger
so many caveats i could append
but never "wish it never happened"

delve

into the depths
where demons dwell
we delve deleterious
digging up devils
best left alone
clawing back strata
clumps of muck
to unearth our worst
most vile
decaying and rotted
corpses
the shells of
our previous selves
our basest villains
and in exhumation
hope to purge and burn
and end the scourge
we have become

luminary

diamond
on jeweler's velvet

twinkling flashing

against the inky black

she shines

refracts 

reflects 

luminous luminary 

lead the way

speak for those

too hoarse

to raise their voice

I watch to

see the life 

ahead
of her

remember
the life
in back
of me

and
regret

wooden

i see them at their ease amongst the crowd
the sparkling, glamorous extroverts
and i stand aside;
longing for a book and pajamas
making friends with the wall
the floorboards less wooden than my repartee
and wonder if i would have fit better
in the drawing rooms of old

Jane Austen likely would not have it so

incidence

in a maelstrom
of calamitous catastrophe
the rate of incidence
so commonplace
it's a disgrace
repeated over and over
all the word over
they flee
the storms
the warlords
the massacres
to survive
some even thrive
clinging on to each other
clinging on to hope
in a leaky boat
in a dusty desert
on foot
in hiding
in a search
for a better life
a longer life
a life
undefined by fear
redefined by love
defiant and proud or
broken and bowed
hounded and cowed
they all search
for refuge
for freedom
for a future
and who are you
to tell them no
no
my ancestors escaped
to arrive and thrive
but you must go
no
no
no




To help refugees, please donate to UNHCR
http://donate.unhcr.org/international/general

manqué

i have tried
tried on hats
and costumes
i have dressed
dressed for jobs i wanted
and jobs i took
done what it takes
to pay the bills
pay my dues
pay my debts
taken up the mantel
until I have become
none
but noughts
an actor manqué
a writer manqué
a lover manqué
a fighter manqué
i fall
and fail
and try again
happy in this
in my own way
in being in becoming
being on my own
my own terms
mine

reprise

and so it is again
we take out the script
and run our lines
mouthing the words
reprising our roles
sans conviction
locked in this
kitchen sink drama
we hit our marks
and each other
with insults
and crockery
and snark
and wonder
how did we get here
and how do we leave 

xeric

prickly cacti
standing apart
pointedly
guarding your heart
xeric and wry
your sense of humour
in matters romantic
a rather late bloomer
the most vibrant of flowers
you'll eventually display
after the showers
have come your way
affection discouraged
I'm waiting until
the rains show the world
you bloom lovely still

bailiwick

A hush,
a rustle,
the curtain twitches
and you are home.
This is your bailiwick -
an empty stage
waiting to be peopled
by the multitudes within
for the gratification
of the multitudes without.
Surrounded by your fellows,
well met
and in concert,
you tell truths
wrapped and unwrapped
in fabrication and elocution
for delectation and edification
and applause
and that moment
where words on a page
become a life lived
in acts.
 

extradite

Though he wronged me long ago
I find myself still troubled so.
The faceless monster he became
in memory, is still the same.
I'd extradite him, if I could
from my mind. He does no good
there clogging up my heart with fear,
fending off those who'd hold me dear.
I'd banish and send him to justice
but I cannot seem to trust this.
He built a wall I cannot climb
and oh, so slowly, over time
I've struggled at it, brick and mortar,
to tear it down, give him no quarter,
but still he blocks me, here and there,
encumbrances me everywhere.

haplology

some could call it lazy
the way you abbreviate
the short cuts you took
from you and me to we
but the australian in me
loved your haplology
as we raced headlong
barreling forward together
like children running
with no time for proper form
for diction or elocution
the correct replaced
by merry momentum
and our delight in it all

spontaneous

we collide
like atoms smashing
with words rapturous
and kiss spontaneous
electrons jumping
in exuberant
yet elegiac form
an explosion
of creation
heralding a universe
expanding ever outward
until the stars die
and we with them

consternation

sits at the table
feet swinging below their perch
hand grips crayon
determination radiates outward
tiny face scrunched
in adorable consternation
at the lines
to be colored within

the attempt
at conformity
soon abandoned
for raucous
wild scribble

so the tone set
for a life to come

I see it all
in a faded
photograph
of a you
i never knew

but have always
always known

paroxysm

it creeps and crawls
and pounces

predator on prey

and i am shaken
in its grasp

paralyzed
by paroxysms
of longing
for ages past

before the murky present
when youthful exuberance
bested all fears and foes

and yet
always this

nostalgia lies

there never was
a clear path

just myopia

askew

drowsing in the backseat
armrest as pillow
the world askew
rushes past
in streaks of color
shifting perspective
tilted billboards
and azure sky
as miles race
the asphalt underneath
and we race
the sun
on a roadtrip
to nowhere

vilipend

I hold my worth
cupped in my hands
and watch it drip
escaping my
imperfect vessel
I long for
another to catch
the fleeing rivulets
of my greatness
before they fall
onto the scorched earth
below
irretrievable
seeing them wasted
I vilipend
myself more
virulently than
the most caustic critic
fall to my knees
kiss the parched
and barren land
searching for
refreshment
redemption
requiescence
and for my pains
ashes and dust
inhale

catbird seat

it's lofty there
it must be nice
to know what's best
never thinking twice
and you look down
from your heights
so high
that we all look like ants
to you

oh, you rant and rave
and issue your decrees
and you believe
we should be on our knees
from that catbird seat
from your gilded throne
we just all look like ants
to you

with our tiny problems
and our tiny fears
you can't hear our pleas
with your deafened ears
and you wonder why
you feel so alone
but inside your heart you know
yes, you know

we just all look like ants
to you

limpid

in limpid pool
she stares
and sees her face
reflected there
shimmering above
the fishes below
and seeing her thus
she knows
they are made
of the same stuff
as are we all
and we are enough

morphemes

in flux
always
from our beginnings
as we begin
to mix and match
our morphemes
like children playing dress up
we switch our tenses
and ourselves
from -ings to -eds
and back again
breaking down
and building up
through all the days
in myriad ways
until the time
when all our particples
are past

timeless

we withdraw
and create a world
for none but we

and in that world
we are all that
we could wish for

we are carpenters
we are kings
we are masters

of all the things
we lead the dance
and win the race

and never wonder
where our place
in the world may be

in our world
we are timeless
we are new and ancient

and we are eternal
in this world
this world we created together

with trinkets and toys
and imagining
we are forever

equinox

as the days shrink
and the air cools,
so do I.

the autumnal equinox approaches.

in solitary rambles
I walk through brambles
beneath the changing leaves
letting go of summer
in orange and ochre endings.
prepare for winter's hibernation;
a well deserved rest.

know as the globe
tilts and turns,
so do I.

my spring
will come again

binary

there.
then gone.
i see you
leave
behind
your eyes.
there.
gone.
there.
gone.
strobe light
flashes
of you
in morse code
that i
can't read.
nots & noughts
and
i am one.
no longer
part of
the binary
we
but
yet again
solitary
me.

war story

dank church basement
the air adorned with
the smell of
stale coffee and despair
and there they share
one by one
each war story told
accompanied
by nods and day old doughnuts
and in each other
find communion greater
than any wafer

peruse

anticipation
expectation
tips of fingers
over spines
peruse the shelves
and judge

in one moment
decisions
can become
revisions
and maybes
may be made
yays or nays
with a chance glance
at a row of Rands
or a stack of unhelpfully
titled self-helps

or so it was
once upon a time
a long time ago
when books
were tangible
and relationships
frangible

incandescent

it arrived all unexpected
a startling surprise
a flash of recognition
when she looked into his eyes
in moment of connection
on a day now long ago
she found passion incandescent
and was warmed within its glow
but a fever is a warning
and a conflagration burns
until all that's left is embers
so every camper learns
you have to feed and bank it
to protect tomorrow's blaze
else striking flint and hoping
ends up filling all your days
better still a hearth to build
better yet to build a home
and within it house the fire
make it evermore your own
such advice she wasn't given
so the pyre flamed and flared
and she watched her love cremated
not bit of it was spared
then she sifted through the ashes
for the pieces of her heart
a bit of future kindling
for another fire's start
'til she found a tiny cinder
with a dull and muted spark
and she whispered to it softly
to shine brighter in the dark
shine brighter than a lantern
shine brighter than the sun
burn bright in perpetuity
until I find the one
who happily fuels my fire
and adds it to his own
so our love becomes a beacon
and a lighthouse thus our home

circumlocution

Around and around,
up and then down
the words flow;
a stream of teaming tourists
get on the rollercoaster.
They take their turn
to speed and scream
before a hurky-jerky stop
to tumble off and
let the new alight.
And always,
the cavalcade queuing,
stretched into the distance.
A column of bored enthusiasts
impatient for their time
off the line
jostle and jitter.
So his words spew forth,
in the circumlocution
of barroom blather,
a rush of vehement intensity
never going anywhere;
a conversational ouroboros
of florid vocabulary
riding hurly-burly and
trapped in
the theme park
that is him.
And she,
a reluctant safety inspector
watches in morbid facination
for the inevitable derailment.

quondam

photographs
scattered across the floor
pieces of a puzzle
make a map
a crooked course
through a labyrinthine life
following a pattern
indiscernible
to the untrained eye
but hid within
the capricious clues
of quondam selves,
twists and turns,
various versions
of perpetual personas
in exploratory exaltation
lies the answer
of a self
becoming

haptic

a hand brushes
across my cheek
and tucks a stray hair
behind my ear
so does my cat
twine about my legs
in haptic communion
to tell me wordlessly
that she loves
and so wordlessly, did he
on a New York City sidewalk
on a blustery winter day
a lifetime ago

modicum

the snowflake
with its pristine pattern
floating in a
crystalline ballet
may look perfect
be perfect
do not try to catch it -
a modicum of warmth
melts it
corrupts its beauty
better let it float free
in this moment
sharing its glory
a little longer
though destined still
to muddy up the ground
in later days

neoteric

a clever contradiction
a teleporter in a junkshop
an abacus internet
this steampunk aesthetic
of our own devising
old-fashioned/newfangled
at once
together
we are
a melange
of abstruse nostalgia
mixt in a mishmash
with neoteric revelry
constructing
our history
in a compostion
an orchestration
building and rebuilding
exploding, expanding
theme upon theme
rework the old
to create anew
this is friendship
long weathered
much treasured
nothing better
me and you

druthers

if I were an emperor
the monarch of all
the world would be different
I tells ya
courtesy would be currency
so jerk-faces were poor
and all the big bullies
would be shown the door
we'd send them to
Antarctica to fight
with the seals
and only have
krill for their fishy meals
yes, people'd be nicer
and not once or twice-er
but all of the time
I'd decree it
oh,  and if I had my druthers
the men would be mothers
like seahorses
kinda
well maybe
but definitely
that first part
with all of my heart
my scepter and crown
I'd never lay down
my subjects would smile
and be greatly cheered
cuz the bestest of all monarchs
(that's me) had appeared!

scupper

the life we build
the love we seek
the homes
the hearts
the hands
reach out
to grasp at straws
but look around and see
that bombs are dropped
waters rise
tempests rage
and we,
we are subject to them all
as the universe demands
and all it takes is just one day
to scupper all our plans
we are not our circumstance
we are not the fall
we are the phoenix
if so we choose to be
yet while we know
that we will rise
the flames burn terribly
to make us ash
in preparation
but this we must endure
to fly again

obverse

every moment
the world begins anew

at least, so it seems to me

trapped in my forth dimension
that only goes in one direction

and tethered here
I think I see the road ahead
I think I know the road behind

but both are warped
(by anticipation or recollection)

each step progressing
as I proceed
informed by steps preceding

each step prior
colored in memory
by desired destination

yes,
every moment
the world begins anew

but the obverse also true

trapped forever
as in amber
always, always, always
the now

ersatz

wake up
every morning
get dressed
go to work
chip away at the day
till the clock strikes right
and homeward bound again

going through the motions
with a mannequin smile
a tilt of the head
and still all the while
autopilot engaged
in an ersatz life
in a makeshift world
insubstantial enough
to seem
like a dream
if dreams were dull

I thought
I woke
once
only to find
a dream within a dream
"too flattering sweet
to be substantial"

so slept I again
so sleep I still
awaiting a prince's kiss
or Morpheus' pill

foodie

it rummages through
each memory
every reminiscence
with long skeletal fingers
pawing
squeezing
testing
every heirloom

it plucks
the best
the most beautiful
ripe and lovely
delicate
pure

and it
cuts and chops
skewers or stirs
mixes or melds
simmers or sears
roasts or ragouts
but always reduces

most enthusiastic foodie
it devours
this gruesome beast
ravenous
insatiable
forever lean and hungry
forever gnawing
until nothing is left
and it starves

contiguous

they curl up
interlocking pieces
in this puzzle
her head rests
on his hip
as on
the softest pillow
his arm
contiguous
against her arm
atop the length
of his leg
a jumble of limbs
on this futon
intertwined
and swaddled
in each other
they found
a fragile peace

ampersand

Somewhere along the way
we lost the ampersand
that connected you & I
into an us.
I thought it was just a pause,
comma, but
now it's over
Period.
No hope for an ellipses....
(Parenthetically, you whispered goodbye
as an aside - dash it all!)
and I am left with
crooked question marks
hunched over in thought
and asking, "what the -?"
But don't quote me on that.

turbid

trepidatiously
i parse
the past
pour over
turbid recollections
aswirl
in roiling rapids
and as
slippery
as fish
to find
the unmomentous
moment
of release

gargoyle

The Gargoyle

The twisted face upon the wall
looks down in judgement on us all.
It sees our triumphs and our wins.
It sees our failings and our sins.
Its stony grimace there decries
our disappointments and our lies.
'Gainst evil spirits does it guard
and when the rain comes down so hard
it spouts out water thus to cleanse
and baptized, we begin again.

affront

the anesthesia cannot last
even rationed
it diminishes
and in it
I'm diminished
I retreat back behind
a transparent facade
hiding ludicrously
in plain view
but still unfound
unlooked for
unwanted
trying to build
with fumbling hands
my own indifference
to match
your structure
of enviable apathy
which towers above
blocks out the sun
and affronts
my front
of insouciance

bluestocking

imagine
her
a first lady of letters
a difficult, lonely woman
who bested her "betters"
lovely, sharp and clever
living with regrets and regretters


imagine
me
precocious child
future bluestocking
smoking and drinking and wild
wishing to be:
not queen of the playground
(always too riled)
not Arthur's round table
(never so mild)
but the Algonquin's
beguiling and beguiled

immaculate

the sky fell down
crushing us
in shades of blue
we swam
infused
among the roots
of sheltering trees
in a lake of tea
long hair fanned out
on the soft waters
afloat and weightless
with the buoyancy of youth
an immaculate memory
of a pristine day
decades ago
but also
always
yesterday

rigmarole

checking off the boxes
ticking off the list 
running through the rigmarole
is how we cope with this

we have our little rituals
we say our little prayers
we organize our spaces
we settle our affairs

we take control where we can
and let go all the rest
this is how we move along
this is our progress

it's very incremental
and seems ever, oh, so slow
but we have no choice in it
for this is how we grow

vaudeville

she puts on her smile
like pancake makeup
thick and obscuring
she memorized her lines
has self-deprecating jokes
at the ready
no vaudeville veteran
is more prepared than she
to face the hecklers
with a wink and a nod
and a silent curse
the stage set
the spotlight on
she enters the party alone
no longer a double-act
and begins

moot

I labored
under a presumption
that is true
a plausible premise
but built not
by me alone

bricks of
"I would never"
"we should next time"
"someday we can"
"one day we will"
were baked
and laid
and mortared
not by me

but the structure
rendered moot
abandoned now
like a half finished highway/
a bridge to nowhere/
a rainy day castle
made of lego
once the sun's come out -

yet desolately resolute
I break it down
to use each
segment, slab & stone
and build a shelter
of mine own

testimonial

like a late night infomercial testimonial

full of promise 

there was nothing it couldn't do

nowhere it couldn't go

it was (like everything in an infomercial) the stuff of legend

sold with sizzle and song

but buyer beware

there is no magic in the "magic" blender

no wisdom in your "smart" mop

nothing eggs-traordinary about your cooker

shipping will cost dearly

take forever 

and when it finally comes around 

the box may as well be empty

prevaricate

the biggest lie
we tell ourselves
is that the lies
we tell ourselves
hurt no one
but ourselves
when truthfully
we prevaricate
perilously
for we have
so oft repeated
our own
mendacious myths
that now they are
our truth
and so become
the world's truth
seen warped and wavy
through our lens
foggy with the
cataracts of self-doubt
and self-hate
and, rarer, self-love
our light
reflected in a funhouse mirror
and myopically focused
pinpointed through a prism
that refracts
a distracting rainbow
of revisionism
so that we
and the world
miss the larger picture
that would show
the dissonance
of our distortions
and wreck the
solid certainty
we repeat
I & I & I

sycophant

they are left 

or left feeling

like sycophants.

afraid to say no 

for if they say no

they know you will go,

exiled dissenters

or

servile asskissers. 

And I wonder, 

how are you 

served by either?

draconian

recess rebels
they reject
the tiny tyranny
of a draconian dictator
arms akimbo
they do not do
what Simon says
they will not
duck and dodge
or tether balls
today they do not
skip or swing
instead
supinely sprawled
they hold hands
and whisper
and paint dragons
on the sky

grog

after two small drinks
the curtain fell and
like drunken pirates
casks deep in grog
we stumbled through the
cool autumn streets
in a terrifying yet halcyon haze
thanking all the world
we had each other
and the wherewithall
to leave
clutching each other
and curious
easy prey
but for each other
blessed are the idiots
the naive, bumbling fools
that we were
(and perhaps still are)
safe in each other
with each other
for each other

cannibalize

the whole is less
than the sum of its parts
2+2=3
at least,
that's what they see
so rip and rend
pilfer and pillage
cannibalize
until we can't
be recognized
what does it matter

broken
and scrapped

in the end
to them
less valued,
worth more

ever the score

august

the summer smiles
in shining rays
upon our joyful
sacred days
a hallowed space
we here have made
on verdant hills
in dappled glade
an august church
of vaulting trees
a choir of
the humming bees
no stony walls
are needed by us
to sing together
in glorious chorus
we raise our voices
to the sky
the land, the wind
and you and I

Netiquette

the things we say

when no one knows 

who we are

is who we are

not etiquette 

before the queen

but netiquette 

behind the screen 

the mask reveals

the man beneath 

beholden

and i am beholden
to arms that hold me
and fill the hole
towards wholeness

exquisite agony
the rending of a heart
i sat cross-legged
on the cool tile floor
arms wrapped
in a solo hug
and rocked
snotty and sobbing
and certain
i could never
i would never
nothing ever
would be whole again

and i am beholden
to arms that hold me
and fill the hole
towards wholeness 

i nursed the emptiness
and cleansed it
hollowed out
an empty vessel
until you came
and poured
thick golden
honey-molasses hope
coating the sides
filling me up

and i am beholden
to arms that hold me
and fill the hole
towards wholeness 

obeisance

they clamor
and flutter
around him
black-clad
glamorous moths
beating their wings
in the warmth of his flame
showing obeisance
with offerings
drinks and drugs and swag and sex
and praises raised to the heavens
which he accepts or rejects
with the slightest of nods
as fancy takes him
this fancy-man
glowing with
his 15 minutes
and trembling beneath
in fear of the day
his cool facade
crumbles

exculpatory

she searched and scrutinized and sweated
every moment/detail/alibi/lie
mining for the exculpatory
something/anything
that might come to light
and save her

the world would see
what was convenient/easy/lazy
and not what she knew
in her heart to be true

no ill intent there harboured
just malcontent with her lot
and in bettering herself
she'd worsened her chances

called out
all the names
the ages had handed down
for women
with thoughts
"above their station"
harlot
witch
bitch
the world built a niche
and shoved you in it
and when you didn't fit...
she closed her eyes
and prayed, "acquit"

jog trot

around and around
we run the gamut
wearing out circles
in an incessant jog trot
steady with the
exhaustion
of the chased
who no longer
care if they're caught
but can't seem to stop
never realizing that
shadow behind us
is our own

refractory

It's all manufactured.
Affected outrage
just hot air,
but hot air
can burn
and blister
and bake.
Bellicose but brave,
buffeted by the storm,
facing into the wind
of their scandalized scorn;
refractory, we
refuse to be bowed
by withering looks
and fetid gusts
of foul rumor.
Staunch,
we stand together
and fight.
But the wind takes no notice.
You can't punch the wind.

shill

they shout and tout
proclaiming and declaiming
they shill for the grand
and the grands
and the tv ratings
and we are lost
adrift in a murky basin
of half-truths
dank and dripping
in their gobbledygook
sifting through the muck
for an honest moment

lodestone

an empty stage
hushed and darkened
the air above it
full of invention and possibility
a lodestone
for a ragtag
group of ragamuffins
a disparate mass of youth
and there we met
and there were friendships forged
and there we knew for once
that we were not alone

quaggy

a step
carefully placed
a word
carefully phrased
a pause
of Pinteresque proportions
this quaggy terra firma
full of terror
and not so firma
in uncharted territory
we fight
to find our footing
search for respite
on solid ground
but none is found
so onward we trek
avoiding the dreck
as best we can
but uncertain
we navigate
this morass
and doing so
find progress made
hand in hand
or not at all

contumely

eyes cast downward
daunted and humiliated
the contumely spewed forth
as the bullies drew near
her shield
the cover of a book
her comfort
its pages
the words on the paper
made whole in her head
blocked out the sound
of their jeers
her "peers"
and to other worlds
she'd disappear

kindred

i watch the news
and wonder, why?
i do not see my life
reflected there.
i walk the streets,
so crowded i must
dart and weave
through thronging masses
and i feel annoyed
and peevish
and feel my failings.


i should care for all of them.
i should care for all the world.
and in a vague, amorphous way
it's true.
doggedly and dutifully
exhausted and exhaustively
i do.


and then there's you.


from the first smile
i knew
a kindred spirit found
a whimsy shared
an analogous point of view
and when the world
wears me down
when the pap and pablum
weary me so
that i do not know
how to even start the day...

you text me just to say, "hey"
and i find that it's okay.
in my automatic smile
it's true.
in a reverie of cardigans and kisses
i find my faith in the world renewed.
i do.

 

zydeco

faded leather
on crumbled cobbles
she wanders
hips swaying
to the zydeco beats
as sultry sunlight
dances in the narrow streets
the air peppered with chicory
and memory
a shimmer of breeze
on caramel skin
as he leaned in to whisper
"je ne regrette rien"
and she shivers
in the sticky heat
drawn back in
to yesterdays

multifarious

the world keeps getting smaller
though distance remains great
and dauntless ones
traverse its varied realms
intrepid explorers
on multifarious quests
with windmills to tilt at
and mountains to climb
and oceans to sail
and swim
each new day
a journey for those
with the right eyes
each new interaction
a meeting of a mysterious
and mythical peoples
though those
with the wrong eyes
can only see
the commute
your ocean voyage -
a ferry ride,
the Orient Express -
just the D train,
and the markets of Marrakesh -
only a Starbucks.

Pseudonym

Clandestine 

Covert

You elude detection 

Your ruse for defection 

A clever attraction 

Full of distraction 

With slight of hand 

And pseudonym 

You mislead 

By intrigues 

And leave

As mysterious

As you came

Abstain

The train rattles

and shakes

Background noise 

to the couple

In the corner

In noisy refrain 

airing their dirty laundry

And we transitters

Strangers in 

Empathetic Embarrassment 

Share a subdued smile

And wish they would abstain

From what is clearly 

Common practice.

euphemism

our story
burgeoning
beautiful repartee
swaddled in
delicious euphemism
behatted in
metaphorical millinery
a verbal
pas de deux
in fancy dress
from hellos
to whoas
to ohs

titanic

moments magnified
world a'swirl
tumbling and crumbling
and i never even
knew you
at all
our instant kinship
and years of friendship
discarded
with no preamble
and i've racked my brain
for a catalyst
a thing i missed
but no error so titanic
that wholesale destruction,
the sinking of
so grand an enterprise
as we were,
could be warranted
that i can find
and i cannot lie
i mind
it bothers me
it niggles
even now
years later
when repair
or reparations are
impossible
were we even
accidentally to meet
for i still twinge
at your memory

like an old scar
it itches

hermitage

the city swirls around me
glorious chaos
in clangs and whistles
alarms and bells
it sings its
punk rock anthems
and inwardly I dance
yet still remains a longing
for cool breezes
and quietude
a lullaby
remote and serene
I would go there
if I could
a hermitage
apart
aloof
a pendulum swing
from this
for just a little bit
before the chorus

infrangible

they longed for the shiny
so dismally distractable
and obdurately fickle
impracticably intractable

my questionable choices
those diffident starts
incongruous partners
with infrangible hearts

yet my heart kept breaking
until it was dust
a jagged old tin can
in rain left to rust

i entreat and cajole
and beg providence
that this time be different
my fears to dispense

attempt and endeavor
to muster up hope
yet wonder if hoping
just makes me a dope

the scene still familiar
though the actors are changed
will this mean the outcome
might be rearranged

or am i a fractal
repeating repeating
to end up repenting
to end up retreating

to begin afresh frightens
for love is capricious
disenchantment pervasive
and ardor suspicious

there is no forecasting
no augury viable
i simply must live it
though life's unreliable

doppelgänger

I catch a glimpse,
the back of her head ahead of me.
I've been told about her before.
She glides though life
with ease and grace,
quicker to laugh
and fairer of face.
She is me,
just a little bit better,
a little bit thinner
yet fuller of sweater.
More easily liked,
her feet stride confidently
above the earth,
whereas mine get stuck
in mud...or my mouth
with a twist of phrase or ankle.
My doppelgänger,
she is beloved
and never left,
she does the leaving
but never leaves them grieving.
She needs no one
and so, has everyone.
I see her head ahead of me
and hate her,
just a little bit. 

brusque

it came in
like a tidal wave
overwhelming all before it
drowning all doubt
submerging all fear
throwing all order asunder
once ebullient and effusive
now bluntly brusque
the tide has turned
rushing back to sea
leaving confusion
in its wake
nature's force
deployed and recalled
and I sit on the shore
and hope
awaiting the next high tide

skulduggery

we roamed the night like ninjas
whispers in the dark
shadows cloaked
in mist and mysticism
no skulduggery or dark deeds
just blending into the background
a fading and hiding
as we fall away from the world
invisible
to all except each other
a feral pack of cats
stalking the city streets
in Doc Martins
dodging into alleys
after curfew

vilify

a hot damp wind blows
vengeful mosquitos
dive bomb
in vicious formation
while gentler lightning bugs
float in luminescent harmony
fragments of sky
reflect in the dirty sheen
on the pavement
and vilify
the moon's reflection
in greasy puddles
as steam rises
from the baked earth
the passing shower
not enough
to have driven off the bugs
or the heat
but like bent glass
refract and distort it

grandiloquence

nervous and bashful,
i tend to blather,
i ramble
rambunctiously
with nary a breath,
i do my best to be heard,
it's not affectation
or arrogance
that makes me
bombastically
barrel along,
grandiloquence
my watchword,
filling up the void
with orotundity,
my words
as semaphore,
frantically waving giant flags
from their imagined arms,
but merely
a desire
for commiseration
and community,
likemindedness,
and similar,
and so
my eyes dart
from listener to listener
in a relay race
for recognition
and my mouth
runs
a circumloquacious obstacle course,
and i hope
desperately
that i am not
seen as pompous
but am
accepted
well enough
that i can pause











before
my mouth
runs
away from me
again

indomitable

fierce and capable
joyful, serene
she stalks the world
like the most regal queen
indomitable of spirit
and whimsically free
she knows in herself
how simply to be
head held high
and chin jutted out
she need only whisper
she never need shout
she radiates power
she emanates poise
her worth is her own
not granted by boys
I look in the mirror
and hope her to find
staring right back
so lovely, refined
I catch only glimpses
but I know she's there
a warrior princess
fiery and fair

pachyderm

she carries her own trunk of baggage,
an elephant, she'll never forget.
betrayal caused her to pack it in,
that pachyderm you'll always regret.

she would have been loyal forever
and led you cross deserts to green,
to flood plains where you could recover
in water and pastures serene.

the Okavango Delta calls to her
and for months she'd have led you along
to a magical mystical wetland
where finally you'd seem to belong.

but instead you went and you ruined it,
so now, you'll have to find your own way,
you made your own desert, now lie in it -
trudging alone day after day after day.



 

yaw

somewhere along the way
I skipped and yawed
careening wildly

devious deviation 
hampered 

by unknowns

do I dare

and if I do

what derring-do

do I do

continue on or
cut and run
set on course
give up an 

unknown destination
I presumed 

I thought 

I wanted
for another 

unknowable 

how far down the track 

makes turning back 

untenable 

what is lost 

and what gained 

and in the end

will it

or I

have mattered 

Abulia

I dithered

and dallied

and dawdled

and dwindled

patience perforce.

It wasn't a choice

not making a choice. 

And I know you'd rejoice

if I'd uttered full voice
a definitive 

yes

or

no,

but I couldn't and so

the abundance of abulia 

justly annoyed. 

You thought that

I toyed,
when I tried to avoid
a result.
And as a result
it's now all my fault
that you left,
but though I didn't say yes,
I did not say no
but still you would go...
and though I understand why
it still makes me sigh...
so, belatedly,
here's my goodbye.

dubious

In darkness he skulks 

A shadow in a doorway 

A pulp novel parody

Of third rate detective 

And he watches the window 

Hoping to feel foolish 

Instead of betrayed 

Dubious of her loyalty 

Yet dazzled by her 

Our Phillip Marlow in the making 

Waits

Umbra

Larger than life

and brighter than the sun

You throw all else into shadow 

A supernova 

Exploding and burning 

Destroying in a blaze

I lived in the glare of you

Until I left for relief 

The umbra of another 

Protecting me in 

their cool shade

meticulous

you weigh and measure
each little thing
with meticulous care
if i do this, can i do that
if i have this, can i have that
and inch by inch you close the gap
the gaping maw of debt
threatening to rend you
a Sisyphean stone
accrued foolishly in youth and
treacherously in toil
bit by bit, accumulating 
this
dragged and pushed and shoved
uphill
and suddenly,
emergency!
the jaws snap shut
the boulder escapes your grip
and all the scrimping and saving
just for repaying
seems for nought
as in one moment
the chasm reopens
a miserable fissure
beneath you
ready to swallow you whole

octothorpe

Well aren't we the fancy ones

we might as well wear stoles
and elbow length gloves
and smoke from long gold holders
in top hats and tails

we are the bon vivants
we are Waugh's Bright Young Things
writ new

we flit and flutter
social media butterflys
flying by
with
twaddle on twitter
that makes us
giggle and titter

on the search
for the next best thing

we voraciously consume
wanting the shinies
the sparklies
the tinselly tinkly twinkly things

all for ourselves

and once
the tinkly twinklies
trickle down
we drop them

apart from the proles
and the trolls
is how we roll

and we publish
our findings/our failings/our futures
with brevity and emoji and an octothorpe
and think
Oscar Wilde
has got nothing on us
#LOL :)

truculent

under violent clouds

I stomp and rage

each step percussion 

to my inner soundtrack

a deafening thud thud thud

of heart racing

and bellowing 

and pounding 

sky above darkening

without matching within

and truculent I long

for the thunder

booming and bruising

the plummeting crash

explosions rending the heavens 

as I would the world 

and sans umbrella 

I will the rains to come

longanimity

a darkened room
soft breathing beside her
and she stares

                                            a fixed point

willing herself to sleep
        so weary
                                  but so restless
trying not to jostle
but wanting to
crawl
out of her skin

focusing on a dot on the ceiling
reviewing:
her day/
her month/
her year/
her life

embarrassed by:
    her own longanimity in her thankless job
    for her faceless corporate overlords
    slaving away for little pay
         ridiculously thinking
              effort and innovation
                   will be rewarded
                        instead of ignored
                            or pilfered
     years of sending resumes
                  cover letters galore
                               interviews even
     and always
        in the end
           it turns out
               there is no escape
                   from this rut
                       her wheels spin
                                                       her mind spins out
embarrassed by:
     her body
          which betrays her
                  feeling so heavy that each step exhausts
                      though she knows when she exercises
                         she sleeps
                             and so, ends up less exhausted
                                  but overwhelmed by the effort of beginning again
embarrassed by:
      her mind
           clever enough in its own way
                but to what end
                     it only serves to make her
                                  aware of her poor choices
                                  aware of her failures
                                  aware of her peers' success
                                  aware of all the should haves and could haves
                                              and didn'ts and couldn'ts
                     
embarrassed by:
      her hope
         her optimism
            her joy
               all of which have fled in the face of this abyss
                    this black hole of a dot on the ceiling
                        sucking
                           sucking
                              sucking all but cynicism
                                
and she stares

a fixed point

and the soft breathing beside her
mocks

rue

a life lived without regret
i don't know how that's done
there's things i rue most every day
words left unsaid, songs left unsung
good deeds postponed, anger let rise,
a snarky tone, hasty replies

it's hard to know sometimes
the thing that's true and right
and what i feel at break of day
i may not feel that night
and though my crimes are never large
quite oft my guilt exceeds the charge

but lest you think i wallow here
my comfort lies in knowing this
i do my best to make things right
and others' plights not to dismiss
in empathy is solace found
for there we all have common ground