hark back

i wonder
if you
ever wonder
what we
could be
could we
hark back
to the early days
and incrementally
change our ways
would we still
end up at the end
of our days
where we did
or would we
have ended up
married with a kid
silly to brood
on a brood unbred
but that's just how it is
inside my head

obdurate

years like lacquer
overlay all in sepia
sense of self somehow
as obdurate as if
trapped in amber
awaiting a blast sander
to erode the varnish
of ego and return
to unfinished nature

fulcrum

the year turns
and in the turning
all the futures wait
upon the fulcrum
to find which way
the thing will swing

canorous

sweet nothings are as nothing
'gainst his dulcet timbre
for when drifting off
in slumber's piece of day
I have found no better way
than the canorous chords
of one Sir David Attenborough
singing me sweetly to sleep
descanting savanna songs
or arias of the arctic
engaging my mind in his
sonorous kind voice
and delightfully distracting
from the act of re-acting out
every conversation and blunder
that I have ever had
from the day that I was born
until the moment I go under

enervate

Loneliness: a succubus.
She comes in dark of night
& steals your soul,
enervates you so
before the dawn
you lie in exhausted wakefulness
murmuring wearied incantations
to exhort you into day.

utmost

though I have
done my utmost
to do the things
I thought I ought
somehow I
muddled am still
I evermore am
stood stuck
staring down
the crossroads
and dithering

benison

the world indeed is frightening
and full of chaos crumbling
but still in times of strife
there is hope where there is life
and tiny beinsons beget
greater kindnesses still yet
so be grateful and be grand
now the year's end close at hand

grinch

I love
your misanthropic mind
and see
myself reflected
Great grinches
we combine
to grouse
in harmony sublime

assuage

the yuletide carols
ring melancholy
in my ears this year
family far flung
and friends afield
easy ‘tis to lose
oneself in reverie
and muse upon
the might have beens
the chances
wished revised
and yet I would be
well advised to hold
dear to heart in hand
for in the knowing
that distance
relative remains
so uneasy soul
assuaged and the miles
are but as an inch
for in my heart
their love
all time resides

compendious

verbosity a masque
made to shroud the truth
the most compendious
commentary created
summarizes as
simply this
I love you

solstice

magic happens
at the thin times
on the edges 
when things are
neither one
nor t'other
solstices and
old/new moons
as the world dies
and is reborn
fish with lungs
or fish that fly
and don't
get me started
on the playtpus
only magic
could explain
the what or why

frenetic

as does a puppy,
upon seeing the leash
taken off the hook,
so does my heart
leap and dance and jig
with frenetic joy
when I see you

tchotchke

he has many names

he collects broken souls

shines them up
and displays them
behind closed glass doors
on antique shelves

as a doily-covered dowager
treasures her tchotchkes

so does he his souvenirs:
     first kisses
     last goodbyes
     bottled laughter
     decanted tears

millefleur

she lonely sits
among the stars
embroidering new worlds
with millefleur patterns
for the fields unfurled
she spins and sews and
stitches up the universe
it is her blessing
it is her curse

epitome

set up
for catastrophe
the epitome
of ignominy
perfect exemplar
of disgrace
shamefacedly
again abased

vitiate

all my good graces
my hard work lost
and all it took
was the wrong word
blurted in the wrong way
to vitiate it all
all my good graces
my love given grateful
and all it took
was a moment uncouth
and in that one moment
I learned the truth
that one thread pulled
unravels it all
to believe otherwise
I was a fool

nidus

youth to city flee

seeking the pulsing beat

nidus of creation dreaming 

hopes born in the rocking 

subway car of possibility 

and confidence multiply 

with others yearning 

with each new year

a new crop anew

zibeline

in woolly headed
sickness sorrow
staved off
in a blanket
of zibeline
comfort
honey tea
blankets and
a sighing purr

perennial

each

year around

this time I post

(I say each year but

each is too broad but still

you understand) each year

around this time I post a picture

of me as munchkin when I was

but wee, perennial favorite of me

and my

brother,

arm in

arm in

front of

the Christmas tree

from maybe 1983

lunette

you held
my hand
so tight
you left
a pattern
of lunettes
upon the skin
just as
you left
your mark
upon my heart

immure

origami girl
I fold in
upon myself
immured by the
uncertainties of
multitudinous maybes
make my paper limbs
crease and crinkle
tucked and turned
until I am
a paper box
built around
this tissue heart

repartee

smile and nod with grin affixed
searching for something new to say
"no, not going anywhere for the holiday.
not going anywhere at all,
no, no plans, just a quiet one,"
and try not to feel small.
"Bermuda...that sounds nice,
Pittsburgh...that sounds nice,
Hawaii...that sounds nice.
Sorry to hear to
Joey came with lice.
How's the baby,
how's your mother,
how's grad school,
how's the promotion?"
I go through the all motions:
I dole out the banter,
even some witty repartee,
all the time wondering
when I can sneak away.

galumph

amongst the midnight whispers 

the cacophony crashes 

as hope galumphs into the room 

stumbling through inebriation 

before flinging itself into

an uneasy dream of tomorrow 

approbation

need food and air 

for sure and shelter too

but after those are settled

who doesn't also long

for the approbation of our peers

a smile at the end of days

a hand to hold to calm our fears

a light in someone's eye

that lit up just for you

something about which to dream

something to look forward to

within we ache for all

we survive without

sandbag

macro made by micro
dust dance immobilized
sneezing in succession
sandbagged by sensation
trapped inside explosions

dossier

i study
the crinkle
in the corner
of your eyes
when you smile
as though i would
compile a dossier
detailing every little
line of delight so
on some far off night
i could pull out your file
and find you again
in the pages and
revisit that smile
for the ages

abandon

you'd have had
me always be
a floppy-eared,
big-pawed puppy
running in clumsy joy
with heedless abandon
barrelling you down
with every greeting
whimsical at every meeting
you'd have had me be
giddy and gleeful
and sometimes that's true
silly and strumming a ukulele
but sometimes, I'm somber too
and sometimes I'm sad
sometimes serious
sometimes mad
I have many facets
and that's not bad

perspicacious

they marvel and
make of her the mystic
perceive portent
in the content of her speech
they would have of her
to preach and call her prophet
and would profit off her ability
claim she sees into the beyond
but merely perspicacious
she pays attention
and mentions what is true
and so to them
too lazy to look themselves
she is magic
through and through

circumvent

the new guy
in the office
would play
each of us
against each other
like a devious child
pitting parents
in petulance
seeking to
circumvent
their intent

sciental

beyond the
explicative
this tiny particle
of a something
no sciental sense
of how it became
or pending expiration
no classification
to name it
no view
within which
to frame it
except to call it
love

mayhem

wandering the streets
or wondering over
my own decorations
the glorious mayhem
of the holiday season
lights and holly and
smiles and cheer
in the early darkness
at the closing of year
a myriad of strangers
are suddenly friends
a bright shining spot
before the year ends